Dogs had been here. Every garbage can, every streetlight, every fire hydrant told me about them. Big dogs, small dogs. Old ones and puppies. Sick and healthy, male and female, in a hurry or out for a leisurely stroll. They’d left their marks everywhere in this city. I left my own on top of theirs as often as CJ would let me.
That way they’d all know that I was Max, and I was here, and I was important.
CJ led us all to a gate and took us through onto a patch of worn-out grass and clawed-up dirt. I looked around with satisfaction.
There were dogs everywhere. A lot of them were the ones I’d smelled on the sidewalk. Dogs chasing, dogs running, dogs huddled by their owner’s legs or prancing proudly across the ground. A park that was full of dogs, all of them ready to learn that I was Max.
6
CJ reached down to unsnap our leashes from our collars. I leaped forward with delight. This would be like the puppy pen back at the shelter, only bigger!
Jay yipped and tore past me, racing madly to the far corner of the park and then back again. Honey trotted away to touch noses and sniff rears with a few dogs she seemed to know, and then settled down with a sigh in the shade of a tree. Duke wandered along a few feet behind me.
A young brown dog with stiff, wiry fur came bounding up to me. I stood tall and put my ears forward, but she didn’t get the message—she just stuck her nose right in my face. Then she jumped to my rear, shoving her muzzle beneath my tail so hard that I flopped forward onto my chin.
I leaped to my feet and spun around, ready to teach her better manners, but she was already bounding away. Frustrating!
I heard CJ laughing behind me and was glad that she was happy, but that didn’t solve the problem of these dogs and their confusion over who was to be obeyed.
Duke ambled away, and I saw that he’d stuck his enormous muzzle into a big metal bowl of water that was sitting on the ground. A drink sounded good to me, too. It was a warm day and my tongue was already hanging. I hurried over and barked at Duke.
He stepped aside obediently.
The bowl was a little tall for me; I had to strain my neck to get over the rim. But the water was cool and delicious. I was lapping it up eagerly when the same wiry brown dog who had been so rude earlier came bounding up behind me.
I recognized her scent, but I didn’t look around. She’d have to wait until I was done.
She still didn’t seem to know about manners, though. She pushed her nose beneath my tail again, only this time she actually lifted my rear legs off the ground! Tipped off balance, I toppled forward. The entire front half of my body—nose, muzzle, head, and paws—ended up in the water dish.
I staggered back, shaking my head to get the water out of my eyes, jumping around to bark at the young female and teach her to behave, to keep her distance, to understand who I was! I was Max!
But she was already running away. I shook myself all over, sending water flying from my fur, and chased her. I’d show her!
I didn’t get a chance, however, because a green, fuzzy ball bounced past my nose. My whole body snapped into alertness.
I’d seen balls before, at the shelter, but we hadn’t had so much room to play there. The way this ball was bouncing and rolling over so much ground made a thrill of excitement rush through me. I wanted that ball. Now!
The trouble was, I wasn’t the only dog who wanted that ball.
Three other dogs were after it, a sleek white one, a big brown-and-black one with pointy ears, and a yellow ball of fluff. But none of them was as close as me. I leaped after the ball, skidded, braced my feet, darted to the left as the ball hit a bump in the ground and bounced crazily, and got my teeth in it before all the other dogs made it there.
Or at least I tried to get my teeth in it.
That ball was almost the size of my skull! I opened my jaws as wide as I could, but I just couldn’t get them to close around the curved surface. I tried nibbling at it, using just my front teeth, but it rolled away from me. Unfair!
The other three dogs came panting up, and the white one got low and snatched at the ball—at my ball! I jumped forward so that one front paw landed on either side of the ball. I pulled my lips back from my teeth. I felt the hair on my hackles bristling. My growls said that this was my ball. Mine! Mine!
The fluffy yellow dog backed away, but the white one didn’t seem to get the message. He tried to snatch at my ball again, and I was forced to snap at his nose. And the big dog with the pointy ears had his eyes fixed on the ball, too, looking for any gap in my attention to grab it.
It was infuriating! That ball was mine!
I heard a whuff from behind me—not exactly a bark, but just breath rushing out of a dog’s nose. And I caught a familiar scent. Duke was arriving. He’d better not have any ideas about grabbing my ball, either!
I turned back to look at him and saw the giant dog was closer than I’d realized, looming over me. My head barely reached halfway to his belly. He stood and wagged happily, his big face high above me. At least he seemed to have no plans to snatch my ball.
I returned my attention to the other two dogs and found that the white one was running away. The brown-and-black one looked at Duke for a moment and then turned, as if he’d heard his owner call. But I hadn’t heard a thing.
It looked like the dogs in this park were starting to get the message, just like the dogs back at the shelter. I was Max. They’d better respect that. I kept a very careful eye on my ball until CJ came to clip my leash back on my collar. Then I led our pack all the way home.
It was nice to have some time to rest after such a busy morning. CJ made me a comfortable spot on the floor of her room with a soft towel to lie on, and I lay there and took a nap while she sat at a small desk and made scratching noises with a pencil on a big sheet of paper.
When I woke up, she was still doing the same thing. She had a frown on her face and was clutching the pencil tightly.
I got up, stretched, shook myself, and sniffed around the room. CJ didn’t even seem to notice that I was awake. I yawned and then squatted down near a corner of her desk.
CJ dropped her pencil. “Max! No!”
It was nice that she was paying attention to me again. It was less nice when she swept me up in her hands before I’d even gotten started! She rushed me out into the hall and held me as we waited for the elevator. It was a long wait and I was not in the mood! The minute we got outside, she set me down on the ground and I left a big puddle on the sidewalk.
“Good dog, Max. Good dog!” CJ crooned.
It was all very strange, but I loved it when she talked to me in that voice. I loved being a good dog for her.
We went back up to the apartment and CJ settled herself down at her desk again. I put a paw on her leg to remind her that dogs are more important than pieces of paper. Especially since the piece of paper didn’t seem to be making her happy at all.
“I don’t know, Max,” CJ said in a low, frustrated voice. “I just don’t know.”
She bent down to pick me up. That was great. I settled into her lap and she scratched all around my neck.
“Maybe I’m not good enough,” she said quietly into my fur. “The other kids in this art program—they’ve had special lessons and art camps in the summer and all that stuff. One girl, she stopped by my table and looked at what I was doing. It was a picture of Molly. You’d like Molly, Max. She’s the best dog ever. But this girl, she said, ‘Oh, cute.’ Cute! That’s about the worst thing anybody can say.”
I licked at her face. One cheek tasted a little salty, and when another tear slipped out of CJ’s eye, I licked that up, too.
Her sadness and worry settled over us both. It was hard to understand why she was so miserable. I was here now, after all. We were together.
“Good dog, Max,” she said, hugging me close. I snuggled my head into the skin of her neck, which smelled wonderful. But then she sighed and put me down on the floor and picked up her pencil again.
The door to her room opened
.
“CJ? I’m going out for the evening,” Jillian said. She stood in the hallway, wearing bright shoes with high, wobbly heels that made her look unsteady. “You’re fine on your own, right?”
“Sure,” CJ said, not looking up.
“Make yourself a sandwich or something for dinner.”
“Okay.”
Jillian took a step into the room. I watched with interest to see how she’d balance herself on those skinny heels. It looked like one little push would knock her right over.
A second step took Jillian a little too close to me. I pulled back my lip, ready to show my teeth and let her know to keep her distance. CJ looked up from her paper at last and noticed me. Her eyes widened.
“Jillian, what do you think of this?” she said a bit loudly, and made a flapping motion with her hand toward me. I was so surprised that my growl stopped in my throat. What did CJ want me to do?
I didn’t understand, but at least Jillian stepped away from me, toward the desk, so I didn’t have to warn her again.
“What is that even supposed to be?” she asked, peering over CJ’s shoulder. CJ dropped her pencil.
“I don’t know,” she muttered.
“Seems like a lot of money your mom has to pay for an art program so you can draw something you can’t even identify,” Jillian said.
CJ picked up a big gray eraser and began scrubbing hard at her paper. “Gloria didn’t pay. I got a scholarship. I’m walking dogs for my own spending money. Gloria doesn’t have anything to do with this art program.”
“Geez, okay.” Jillian shook her head. “You seem really tense. Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working on that thing all afternoon. Go out and do something. It’s not good for you just to hang around this apartment all the time.”
CJ scrubbed harder at the paper. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Jillian stared. “Are you kidding? You’re in the middle of the greatest city in the world! When I was your age, I was hardly ever home. My friends and I used to take the subway everywhere. Well, suit yourself. I’ll be back around eleven.” She tottered out.
“I don’t have any friends, either,” CJ muttered at her paper. But I didn’t think Jillian could hear.
“No, Sneakers!” we heard Jillian shout from the living room. That sounded interesting, so I trotted out to see what might be happening.
Jillian was halfway through the door, which she’d opened just wide enough for her body. Sneakers was crouched at her feet, trying to find a way to wriggle past.
“No way, Sneakers. You stay in!” Jillian whisked herself all the way through the door and shut it. Sneakers sat in front of it and meowed loudly in frustration.
It seemed like a good time to remind Sneakers who was in charge in the apartment. I stood up straight and headed for her, but she turned around and gave me a bored look.
I stood up taller. I walked toward her more slowly. I let my ears fall back a bit, to show her that I meant it.
Sneakers yawned. Yawned! Then she stood up and began slowly sauntering past me.
That was too much! I made a dash at her, and she jumped up onto the back of the couch, where she sat, licking her paw. I tried to jump up on the couch cushions, but they were too high for me, so I put my front feet up on them and barked loudly to let the cat know I had not forgotten her.
“Oh, Max, don’t!” CJ suddenly scooped me up from behind. “If you’re mean to Sneakers, Jillian might not let me keep you after all. Come on, let’s go out for a bit. I’m not getting anything good done anyway.”
CJ clipped my leash to my collar, dropped a few treats in a bowl for Sneakers, and left while that annoying cat was gobbling them up.
“Sneakers likes to sneak out,” she told me as we walked to the elevator. “That’s how she got her name.”
I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I understood Sneakers’s name. Probably she was telling me that I was a better pet than Sneakers.
I peed again once we got outside, even though I didn’t have much to leave behind, just to hear CJ’s delighted voice and feel her hands stroking me. Then we went for another walk down the sidewalk, me with my nose up high and twitching to take in all the fascinating smells on every side.
When we got to a street, CJ bent down to pick me up. “There’s a lot of traffic, Max,” she muttered. “I’ll carry you.”
She hesitated on the curb as cars whizzed past. When a break in the traffic came, she put a foot down into the street and then drew it back. She took a deep breath and stepped down again, walking out.
A horn blared and a voice yelled angry words. CJ jumped back to the safety of the curb, hugging me close, as a bright yellow car dashed past, so close the wind made my ears flap.
CJ’s heart was beating quickly. I lapped at her chin to remind her that she was safe with me.
“Oh, Max,” she said unhappily, low enough that only I could hear. “Sometimes I wish I could just go home.”
7
CJ waited a long time on the curb, but we got across the street at last. Halfway down the next block, CJ tied my leash to a metal post that stuck up out of the ground and told me to wait for her. She went inside a store.
The post was interesting—lots of other dogs had been there and left their signs behind. It was too bad that my bladder was empty and I couldn’t add my mark on top of theirs, where it belonged.
Feet walked past—some in tennis shoes, some in heavy boots, some in sandals. Most of them seemed in a hurry, although one or two pairs slowed down when they saw me. Once a big hand came down toward my head. I quickly let this stranger know that he was not the right person to pet me.
“Whoa! Mean little dog!” a voice said, and the hand very quickly went away.
It was all very interesting, but I was worried about CJ. Would she be all right inside that store without me to take care of her?
When she came back at last, she was carrying a bag in her hand. It smelled very good, and I tried to get up on my hind legs to get a better sniff.
“Later, Max,” CJ said, untying my leash. “Come on, now. Let’s go home.”
Back at the apartment, she sat down on the floor in the living room and took a can out of the bag. She shook out something from the can into her hand. It had a smell that riveted my attention in two seconds—it smelled just like the treats Gail sometimes used to give me at the shelter.
But CJ closed her fist so I couldn’t get at the treat. That was annoying. I nosed at her fingers and licked to let her know to open them up. Then, frustrated, I sat back and barked at her.
“No, Max,” she said sternly. I was startled. Why was my girl talking to me like that?
“Gentle, Max,” she said firmly. “Gentle.”
I tilted my head to get a better view of her face and gazed at her, baffled.
“Good, Max. Good.” She opened up her hand and let me have a treat. It was delicious! But it went down all too quickly. I wanted more.
She put another treat into her palm and closed her hand again. I barked and even let out a tiny growl of frustration, only to hear, “No, Max!”
What was going on?
“Gentle, Max,” CJ said again. When I looked up at her, she opened up her hand and gave me another treat.
So “Gentle, Max” meant she’d give me something tasty? That was nice, I supposed. But it was still a strange game. Sneakers seemed to think so, too, because she came over to stare.
CJ was shaking another treat out of the can. An extra one fell to the ground, and Sneakers pounced.
That treat was mine! But it was hard to growl because I was still busy chewing the last one. Before I could really object, Sneakers had jumped up to the counter with my treat in her mouth. CJ laughed. I did not see what was funny, but she had more treats in her hand, and that was what was important, after all.
“Hmmmm,” CJ said, looking from me to Sneakers. Then she let me have the treat in her hand and lick her fingers clean before going over to a little table next to the couch.
She picked up a newspaper, which made an intriguing, rustling noise when she shook it. Sneakers and I both looked up.
“Come on, you two,” CJ said, and she opened the door into the hall.
Sneakers’s ears perked up and she leaped off the counter and shot through the door. I followed more slowly. After all, I knew that if CJ was going out into the hall, she’d probably take me with her. I didn’t need to rush like a cat. I was Max, and I had dignity.
The hall stretched a long way in either direction. There might have been ten doors in each wall, with an elevator in the middle. Sneakers ranged up and down, sniffing at the carpet and the walls, her tail high and quivering with excitement. I stayed close to CJ, who sat down on the floor and ripped a long strip off the paper she’d brought with her.
My ears twitched. Sneakers’s did, too, and she turned her head to look.
CJ crumpled up the paper into a ball, and then she took the can of treats out of her pocket. She stuffed one into the very center of the ball. Both Sneakers and I had our eyes riveted on the ball now.
“Get it!” she said, and she threw the ball as hard as she could down the hallway.
Sneakers sprang after the ball. It was not fair! She could jump such a long distance that she made it to the ball almost before I could get my feet moving.
She didn’t seem to know what to do with the toy once she got it, though. Instead of putting it in her mouth, like any dog would, she put out a paw and batted it. The crumpled-up paper stuck to her claws, and she seemed startled and shook her paw as hard as she could, sending the ball flying.
That was my chance! I raced past her and seized the ball in my teeth. It wasn’t like the green ball at the dog park; this one was the right size for my mouth. I shook my head hard, and the paper ripped, letting the treat fall out onto the carpet. I snatched it up before Sneakers could get it.
She didn’t admit that I was in charge, however. Instead, she just turned her back on me, sat down, and started to wash one leg, as if she didn’t even know I was there.
Max's Story Page 4
