A Dog's Purpose Boxed Set

by W. Bruce Cameron

“Well,” Gloria said, “don’t you have anything to say to me?” Gloria was, as usual, very unhappy.

  “I see you got a new Cadillac,” CJ said. “Nice car.”

  “Not that. I’ve been worried sick about you. You never once called to tell me where you were. I could barely sleep.”

  “What do you want, Gloria?”

  There was a motion at the big front window. It was Del, who had pulled aside the drapes and was looking out. As I watched, his mother’s hand appeared, grabbing him and pulling him away.

  “I have just one thing to say to you, and then that’s it, no discussion,” Gloria said.

  “Sounds like a fair debate,” CJ said.

  “I have, at great expense, consulted an attorney who practices family law. She says that I can file a motion of judgment with the court and force you to move home. She also says that I do not have to be held prisoner in my own house to a dog. So I am going to file for that, too. You have no choice and the judge could even give you a curfew. So that’s it. It will cost a lot of money to go to court and you’d lose, so I came to tell you that. There’s no sense spending the expenses for court when we could take a nice trip or something for the same money.”

  It looked like nothing interesting was going to happen for a while, so I lay down with a yawn.

  “Well?” Gloria said.

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed to talk.”

  “You can speak about what I just told you; I’m just not going to stand here and argue with you. You’re a minor and the law is on my side.”

  “Okay,” CJ said.

  Gloria sniffed. “Okay what?”

  “Okay, let’s do what you said.”

  “All right. That’s better. You’ve been very disrespectful and I have no idea what these people think that you’ve been living here with them. I am your mother and I have rights under the Constitution.”

  “No, I meant let’s do what you said and go to court.”

  “What?”

  “I think you’re right,” CJ said. “Let’s let a judge decide. I’ll hire a lawyer. You said there were provisions for withdrawing money from Dad’s trust for my welfare. So I’ll get a lawyer, and we’ll go to court. You’ll fight for custody and I’ll fight to have you declared unfit to be a mother.”

  “Oh, I see. Now I’m the horrible mother. You went to jail, and you got suspended, and you lie and you disobey, and I have devoted my life to you, but I’m the bad one.”

  They were both angry, but Gloria was shouting. I sat up and anxiously put a paw up on CJ’s leg because I wanted to leave. She petted me but didn’t look at me.

  “I hope someday you have a child as awful as you,” Gloria said.

  “Trent said you didn’t feed Molly at all.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “That’s true; we were talking about what a bad child I was. So what do you think? Should I call a lawyer? Or do you recognize that Molly is my dog and that I’m keeping her? I mean, I can keep living here.” CJ gestured toward the house and, as she did so, a shadow backed away from the front window. It looked too tall to be Del.

  “I don’t want you living with other people. It looks terrible,” Gloria said.

  “So what do you want to do?”

  That evening we moved back into our room at CJ’s house. Trent came over with Rocky and I was overjoyed to see my brother, who sniffed me up and down, suspicious of all the new smells. When we went outside, snow was falling and Rocky ran around in it, kicking up his heels and rolling in it until he was all wet. Trent came out and rubbed Rocky all over with a towel and Rocky groaned with pleasure. I wished I had rolled in the snow, too.

  After that, things were back to normal, except that CJ didn’t leave to do school—instead, I got to take a car ride with her most mornings to play with Andi and her dogs!

  The first morning we returned to Andi’s place, she greeted me by throwing her arms wide and kissing me and hugging me. I loved her affections and her wonderful dog smells. Then she stood.

  “I thought maybe you’d given up,” Andi said to CJ.

  “No, I just had … There were family issues I needed to deal with. You didn’t call the court or anything, did you?” CJ replied.

  “No, but I wished you’d called me.”

  “Yeah, I’m … I should have. For some reason I never think to call people.”

  “Well, okay, let’s get to work.”

  The dogs at Andi’s building weren’t allowed to go out into the snow except for walks on leashes, so while CJ cleaned out their kennels my job was to play with the dogs in a fenced area inside the big room in the building. A lot of the dogs didn’t want to play, though. A couple of them were too old to do anything but sniff me and then lie down, and a couple just didn’t know how to play, snarling and snapping at me while I danced out of the way. Those dogs seemed sad and frightened and were put in another inside pen, one at a time, while CJ cleaned their kennels.

  This left me with a lot of time to watch Andi play with Luke, her big brown male, and two females, one yellow and one black. The game was this: Some old people sat in metal chairs sitting far away from each other, and Andi would lead the dogs one at a time up to sniff them. The people didn’t play with the dogs, though—sometimes humans like to just sit, even if there’s a dog right there. Then Andi would put the dogs in their kennels and the people would all stand up and change position, sitting in new seats.

  She told all the dogs they were good dogs, but she really got excited with Luke. Every time Luke was led to a man with no hair, Luke would carefully sniff, then lie down and cross his paws and put his head on his paws. Andi would give him a treat right there on the spot. “Good dog, Luke!” she would praise.

  I wanted a treat, too, but when I dropped down and crossed my front paws Andi didn’t even notice and CJ was unimpressed. That’s how life is—some dogs get treats for doing almost nothing and some dogs are good dogs and get no treats at all.

  At one point CJ came to get me and we went out to the outdoor pen. Several inches of snow were on the ground and I crunched through it to find a good place to squat. CJ put the burning stick in her mouth and exhaled smoke.

  I heard the back door open and ran over to see who it was. A flash of alarm coursed through CJ, so the fur went up on my neck.

  “I thought. You. Might be out here.” It was the bald man in front of whom Luke was always lying down. He made a gasping sound while he talked to CJ. I nosed her hand because she still felt scared to me. “Could. I have. A cigarette?”

  “Sure,” CJ said. She fumbled in her jacket.

  “Would you. Light it. For me? I cannot. Get. Enough. Suction,” the man said. He stroked his bald head.

  CJ lit fire and handed the stick to the man. He lifted it to his throat, not to his mouth like CJ did. There was a weak sucking sound and then smoke came out of a hole in his throat.

  “Ah,” the man said. “So good. I only. Allow. Myself one. A week.”

  “What happened? I mean…”

  “My hole?” The man smiled. “Throat. Cancer.”

  “God, I’m really sorry.”

  “No. My fault. I didn’t. Have to. Smoke.”

  They stood together for a moment. CJ was still upset, but her fear was slowly draining from her and dissipating like the smoke coming from her mouth.

  “Your age,” the man said.

  “Sorry?”

  “Your age. When I. Started. Smoking.” He smiled at her. I decided I didn’t need to stand guard over CJ anymore and went over to sniff his hand and see if maybe he had any treats. He leaned over. “Nice dog,” he said. His breath smelled like smoke, but it also had an odd metallic tang to it that I instantly recognized from when I was Buddy and had a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn’t get rid of. The bald man probably had the same taste in his mouth, because it was on his breath.

  The man went inside and CJ stood in the cold air and stared off into space for a long time. The stick in her hand was still smoldering. She
leaned over and poked it into the snow and then threw it in the trash can and we went inside together.

  Andi was playing with the yellow dog. I was off leash and CJ was distracted, so I trotted over to where the bald man from outside was sitting in a chair. I went to him and bowed down, crossing my front paws as I’d seen Luke do.

  “Look at that,” Andi said. She came up to me. “Hey, Molly, did you learn to do that from Luke?”

  I wagged. However, I did not get a treat. Instead, Andi led me back over to be with CJ.

  I really liked Andi. I loved the way she greeted me with all the hugs and kisses a dog could ever want. But I thought it was unfair of her to give Luke a treat but not me.

  When we got home, Gloria was glad to see CJ but ignored me as usual. I had learned to stay away from Gloria, who never spoke to me or fed me or even looked at me, most of the time.

  “I think we should have a Christmas party this year,” Gloria said. She had a pad of paper in her hand and waved it at CJ. “Something really fancy. Catered. With champagne.”

  “I’m seventeen, Gloria. I’m not supposed to drink champagne.”

  “Oh, well, Christmas. You can invite whoever you want,” Gloria continued. “Are you seeing someone special?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “What about that nice young man, Shane?”

  “And that’s why you’re not my go-to source for deciding who is a nice young man.”

  “I’ll invite Giuseppe,” Gloria said.

  “Who? What happened to Rick?”

  “Oh, Rick? He turned out to be not what I thought.”

  “So now you’re dating Pinocchio’s father?”

  “What? No, Giuseppe. He’s Italian. He’s from St. Louis.”

  “That’s where Italy is? No wonder I do so badly in geography.”

  “What? No, I mean real Italy.”

  ‘“Are you helping him buy a house or something?”

  “Well, well, yes. Of course.”

  I went into the kitchen to check to see if anything edible had fallen on the floor, and that’s when I saw a man standing outside, peering in through the glass doors. I barked the alarm.

  The man immediately turned and ran away. CJ came into the kitchen. “What is it, Molly?” she asked. She went to the door and slid it open and I raced out into the yard. The man’s scent was on the air and I followed it quickly to the closed back gate. I knew that smell, knew who it belonged to.

  Shane.

  CJ called me back into the house. “Come on, Molly; it’s too cold,” she said to me.

  The next time we went to Andi’s, she came over to us as CJ was stomping the snow off her feet. “Hey. I want to try something today.”

  “Sure,” CJ said.

  It was the same game Andi played every day. It did not seem like much fun to me when there were ropes to tug on and balls to chase, but people are like that—their idea of play is usually less fun than a dog’s. People were sitting in chairs spaced wide apart from one end of the big room to the other. Andi had CJ hold my leash and we went to the person at the far end, a woman who had on fur boots that smelled like cats. “Hi, what’s your name?” she said, holding her hand down for me to lick. Her fingers had a tangy taste to them.

  “This is Molly,” Andi said. I wagged at hearing my name.

  We went together to the next person, and the next, at each occasion taking the time for them to pet me and talk to me but not to give me any treats even though I could smell that one man had something with cheese on it in one of his pockets.

  Then we came to a woman whose hands smelled like fish. She leaned over to pet me and I picked up that same scent, the one that was similar to what I couldn’t get off my tongue when I was Buddy, the same scent the bald man who talked to CJ had on his breath.

  “Hello, Molly,” the woman said.

  I felt the slightest bit of tension in Andi as we started to move on, and that’s when I got it: the game, it had to do with this smell. I turned back to the woman and lay down, crossing my paws.

  “That’s it!” Andi said, clapping her hands. “Good dog, Molly, good dog!”

  Andi gave me treats. I decided I loved this game and wagged, ready to play again.

  “So Molly just figured it out?” CJ asked.

  “Well, there’s more to it than that. I think that all dogs can detect the odor, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily connect it to signaling us that they’ve done so. But Molly has been watching Luke—did you see how she crossed her paws, just like he does? I’ve never heard of a dog learning this from watching another one, but there it is; there can’t be any other explanation.” Andi knelt down and kissed me on the nose. I licked her face. “Molly, you are a genius, a true genius dog.”

  “You’re a goodle, Molly,” CJ said. “Part genius, part poodle. A goodle dog.” I wagged, loving the attention.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to involve Molly in the program. You, too, if you’re interested,” Andi said. “It would count toward your community service.”

  “What, and give up shoveling dog poo? I’ll have to think about it.”

  From that day forward, whenever we were with Andi, Molly would lead me to meet people and I would signal whenever I picked up that odd, bad odor. It didn’t happen very often, though. Most of the time, people just smell like people.

  But sometimes, they smell like food! For Happy Thanksgiving CJ and I went to Trent’s house and the air and people’s hands were so redolent with meat and cheese and bread and other wonderful smells that Rocky and I were nearly delirious. People ate all day, tossing us morsels to snatch out of the air.

  Trent had a father and a mother. For the first time, I wondered why CJ didn’t have a father as well. Maybe if Gloria had a mate she wouldn’t be unhappy all the time.

  There was nothing I could do about that, though. I had to content myself with eating Happy Thanksgiving food.

  And I was very content.

  CJ was happy, too. At one point in the day we all gathered against a wall that smelled strongly of smoke and the people all put their arms around each other, full of love. Rocky and I were told to sit and there was a lot of laughter and bright flashes.

  When we were leaving, CJ hugged and kissed Trent’s mother. “This was the most wonderful Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” CJ said.

  “Please come every year. You’re one of the family,” Trent’s mother said.

  I smelled tears on CJ’s face, but she was happy and as we drove away she held my head in her lap, stroking me. As I drifted off to sleep, I was thinking about how much the people in Trent’s house hugged each other. I hoped we’d go back there often, because the hugging seemed good for my girl.

  At Merry Christmas time, CJ and Gloria put a tree in the living room and hung cat toys from it. I could smell that tree from anywhere in the house. And one evening people came over and hung lights and cooked food. CJ put on clothes that swished loudly when she moved, and so did Gloria.

  “What do you think?” Gloria asked, standing in CJ’s doorway. She twirled noisily. It didn’t seem possible, but Gloria was even more fragrant than usual. My nose crinkled involuntarily at the flood of odors drenching the air.

  “Very nice,” CJ said.

  Gloria laughed happily. “Now let me see you.”

  CJ stopped brushing her hair and spun. Then she stopped and stared at Gloria. “What?” she said.

  “Nothing, it’s just … Have you put on some weight? It fits different than when we bought it.”

  “I quit smoking.”

  “Well…”

  “Well what?”

  “I just don’t know why you couldn’t control yourself with the party coming up.”

  “You’re right, I should have kept sucking poison because it would help me fit in my new dress for a party.”

  “I never said that. I don’t know why I bother to try to talk to you,” Gloria said. She was angry and walked away.

  Then friends arrived. Trent came but did no
t bring Rocky, for some reason. Mostly they were people Gloria’s age. I wandered around, smelling warm delicious things, and after a while people started feeding me treats—not for doing any tricks but just for being a dog. They were the best sort of people, in my opinion.

  One woman leaned over and fed me a piece of meat with melted cheese on it. “Oh, you are such a pretty dog!” she said to me.

  I did what I was supposed to do: I lay down on the floor, crossing my front paws.

  “How cute! She’s doing a curtsey!” the woman said.

  CJ came around the couch to see me and I wagged. “Oh my God,” CJ said.

  FOURTEEN

  CJ was anxious and scared. “Sheryl, can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?”

  The woman was still petting me, but I was watching CJ to see what was wrong. “Sure,” the woman said.

  I started to follow them down the hallway, but then CJ turned and said, “Stay, Molly.”

  I knew “Stay,” but it was my least favorite thing to do. I sat for a minute, then got up and went down to sniff under the door where they had gone. They were in there for about ten minutes, and then the door popped open and the woman came out with a hand to her mouth. She was crying. CJ was upset, too, and felt sad.

  The woman got her coat and Gloria came up holding a glass. “What happened?” She looked between CJ and the crying woman. “What did you say to her?”

  CJ shook her head. The woman said, “I’m sorry. I’ll call you,” to Gloria and then was out the door. Gloria was very angry. Trent came up from behind her, looking from Gloria to CJ and then moving past Gloria to stand by CJ. I lifted my nose to touch his hand as he passed.

  “What happened?” Gloria said.

  “Molly signaled the way she’s been trained. For cancer. She signaled Sheryl had cancer.”

  “Oh God,” Trent said.

  Some people had come down the hallway and I heard one of them say, “Cancer? Who has cancer?”

  “And you had to tell her now?” Gloria hissed. She then turned, jerking her head when she saw the people behind her. “It’s nothing,” she said.

  “What happened?” a man asked.

  CJ shook her head. “Just a personal conversation. I’m sorry.”