Saving Maya

by Janetta Harvey

  If all went well today, Patsy and Val would sort out the details, and in a few days time her sister would be here and they’d begin their new life together. Willow itched with excited impatience. But, there was a shadow of worry which flickered from time to time: was it possible that a dog could be too scared to enjoy having a new sister like her? What if Maya’s fears were too much and Willow couldn’t find ways to help her? Or, and this was a dreadful thought, what if Maya didn’t like Willow? No, no, that last worry Willow pushed aside, she was being silly, everyone liked her, it was unimaginable that her new sister wouldn’t. Wasn’t it?

  “Come on, let’s get ready. Breakfast?” Patsy threw back the bed covers and Willow leapt off the bed, landing expertly on the thick bedroom carpet.

  A couple of hours later and Patsy and Willow were speeding through the countryside in the car, to Val’s house, which was in the middle of nowhere. Willow enjoyed car rides, she found the scenes swishing past the windows thrilling, and a car journey nearly always had something good at the end of it. Like a beach walk, or meeting up with friends she hadn’t seen for a while. Or, like today, visiting Val and Maya. There were occasional blips, like the morning Patsy had bundled her into the car and she’d found herself spending the day at the vet with all kinds of weird things going on. Willow remembered the word ‘spay’ being mentioned a few times, but that was a journey and a day that Willow liked to forget, and seeing as Patsy had spoilt her silly for a few days afterwards, she’d quickly forgiven her – and almost forgotten it.

  “OK! We’re here!” Patsy said, as she pulled the car into the gravelled driveway of a small, rose-coloured cottage. As she turned off the car engine, the front door of the cottage opened, and out through the low doorway stepped a smiling Val. With her came three dogs trotting at her feet, one a small, light-brown terrier, barking loudly at the visitors.

  “Don’t mind Wilson,” Val shook her head, pointing at the noisy, barky dog. “He thinks every visitor needs a loud hello from him. For a small dog, he makes quite a racket. He’ll stop yattering in a mo, once he knows we’re all ok here.”

  Patsy smiled over her shoulder at Val as she turned to release Willow from her car harness. “Oh don’t worry, Willow’s exactly the same if the mood grabs her. She loves a good welcome bark.”

  As Willow jumped from the car and together they crunched over the gravel towards Val, the other two dogs, one brown, the other white, trotted over to inspect the strangers while Wilson stayed close to Val’s feet.

  “You’ve a lot to say for yourself, little man,” Patsy smiled down at Wilson, who was almost quietening down, just adding a final, squeaky, half-hearted woof, as he peered closely at the visitors from the safety of Val’s side.

  “He does, always. And he’s totally harmless. He’s been out the puppy farm now a good few years. Sadly he’s losing his eyesight. Not that it seems to bother him much, but, sad all the same,” Val said, bending down and stroking the brown, wiry coated shoulder of a now quiet Wilson.

  “Gosh that is sad. Nothing that can be done?”

  “Nope, nothing at all,” Val said, sadness passing across her normally happy face as she led them through the open front door into the cottage’s small hallway. All the dogs trotted in behind her, Wilson squeezing his slim body through, to be in front.

  “Dreadful,” Patsy said, glancing around, discretely looking for any hint of where Maya might be.

  “Puppy farms, terrible business. But, enough of the sadness. Shall we go and meet Maya?”

  “Oh yes, please, yes… have to say we’re a bit excited aren’t we Willow? Patsy looked back at Willow who was behind her, still by the front door, having a sniff of the white dog’s bottom, but when she heard her name, she looked up and trotted forward.

  “OK, Maya, Maya, darling, it’s only me,” Val softly called, opening the door into a small, primrose-yellow living room with low beams and a fire burning in the grate, “here, meet your new sister, Willow.”

  15

  I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.

  Louise May Alcott, Little Women

  Patsy and Willow followed Val into the snug, warm room. Weak sunlight streamed through a bay window on the front wall, under which on the thick carpet was a dog bed; and there, tucked into the corner of the big squashy tweed cushion, was Maya. She sat alert, closely watching the visitors as they entered the room. When she spotted Willow, Maya straightened herself, lifting her nose with a slight twitch of curiosity; their eyes locked and as Willow toddled over to say hello, Maya stood up in the bed, leaning forwards to greet her visitor. Their black wet noses touched for the first time.

  “Aww, how sweet,” Patsy whispered to Val as they sat down on the sofa to watch the dogs go through their greeting. The ritual, practiced the same by dogs the world over, involved a thorough inspection of each other’s face and a lot of sniffing of ears and eyes before moving round to bottoms. As all dogs are, both Maya and Willow were fascinated by the odours of each other and once a full check had been done, they were happy. Maya moved back into the corner of the bed, farthest from the human visitors as Willow turned back to them, her shining black eyes searching out Patsy’s.

  “So, what do you think?” Patsy asked, Willow’s wagging tail giving all the answer she needed.

  “We’ll let the others in now,” Val stood up, to open the living room door.

  “I can see they’ve done this before!” Patsy said, as Wilson and the other two dogs got up off a small brown bed that was just outside the door, where they’d been waiting patiently.

  “Oh yes, they know the routine with my foster dogs and their visitors, they give them the space they need, we’re all well trained here,” Patsy chuckled. “Silly me, I didn’t introduce you all properly though. That’s what happens when Wilson does his noisy thing, I end up forgetting introductions!” Val picked up the tiny white dog, planting a kiss on her head. “This is Isla. She’s our old lady, must be about twelve or thirteen now, aren’t you sweetie? She’s been with me now for… gosh let me think… yes, must be quite a few years, at least ten. Going a bit deaf, but open the biscuit tin and she soon hears that!” Val put Isla down on the bed beside Maya who had her eyes on Val the whole time.

  “And that’s Wilf, he’s much younger.” As he heard his name, Wilf padded across the soft carpet towards Val. “Didn’t have a great start in life… was kept outside on a chain till he was rescued. He was in a sorry old state when he came here, but, you wouldn’t know it now. Not when you see him running across the fields chasing rabbits,” Val stroked Wilf’s sleek brown head as he gazed up at her with his unusual mustard coloured eyes full of love. “He’s always great with my foster dogs, he helps them settle in here, in no time. There’s a quiet confidence about you Wilf isn’t there, that helps them relax.”

  With that, Wilf ambled across the room to the bed, where Isla shifted herself to make room for him and tucked her small white, elderly body into the corner as he lay himself down, close to, but in front of Isla and Maya. After a couple of seconds, Maya slumped gently down, resting her head across his back, keeping her wary eyes on the rest of the room.. The warmth of the room was making Isla sleepy and with half closed eyes, a gentle snore was soon heard coming from her. Willow took one look at the peaceful scene and moved over to the bed, giving each of the dogs’ noses a quick sniff before turning, and with a sigh she flopped down on the carpet beside the bed. After looking up at Patsy and Val, her eyes moved down to Wilson who was now sat up on Val’s lap enjoying a thoroughly pleasant stroking, no hint remaining of his earlier, noisy agitation at the visitors’ arrival.

  “Well I think we can safely say there’s no problems here!” Val said, a broad smile spreading across her face.

  “They’re so peaceful,” Patsy agreed. “I didn’t think I needed to worry that Willow would get on with Maya, she’s always a friendly girl, but to
see them both here, right now, looking so at home together is lovely. And a relief, I’ll admit, you never quite know do you?”

  “Not at all, you hear all sorts of stories, not all with happy endings,” sighed Val. “It’s always best to check the dogs do get along before committing, but really, it’s so rare any of my foster dogs don’t get on with others… in fact I don’t ever remember one not,” she paused, as Wilson stood up and gave himself a good shaking before settling himself back in the centre of Val’s soft lap, which was now covered with a thin dusting of light-brown dog hairs. “Better?” she smiled, tickling Wilson’s bristly chin.

  “Do you think it’s because they’ve been through such rough times, they can see the good times coming, and are happy to get on with their new friends when they get the chance?” Patsy asked.

  “Quite possibly, yes. Dogs are amazing, we could learn a lot from them and how they move on. Right, fancy a potter round the garden?”

  16

  If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can be together all the time.

  A.A. Milne, Winnie The Pooh

  That night I dreamed I was back in the puppy farm with my babies, my first litter of sweet, innocent puppies. In the dark and dusty barn we huddled together on the cold concrete floor, while in my dream I whispered to them that they would soon be leaving on a big adventure. They would be travelling out of the barn and into a whole new world, where kind humans and nice dogs were waiting for them.

  My first born, a beautiful grey girl, whimpered and cried, full of fears saying she was too scared to be away from me and terrified of what lay ahead. I dreamt I licked her face, assuring her she must be brave, as the world outside the barn was a much kinder place. It was where she was meant to go, to live, to love and be loved; not to stay stuck in the dark, dirt and misery of the puppy farm. As my tongue worked its soothing way over her body, she began to calm and settle, and into her ear I dreamily whispered that she’d soon find herself in a warm safe home, and her life would be full of nice things. There’d be soft beds and plump cushions, scrumptious food and crystal clear water in her bowl at all times. She’d never feel too hot or too cold, or hungry or thirsty, and if she did, the humans she lived with would take care of her and make everything all right. She’d have toys and games, and friends to play with; there would be fun and laughter, and happiness all around. But, if she stayed with me in the barn, there were only dark and cruel days ahead. It was not the place a dog should be.

  I dreamt I was gifted the luxury of time to prepare all my babies for their new lives in this way, as we shared our last night together, their happy young hearts throbbing and thrilled with excitement at the wonders that lay ahead. And then I woke, and my years of misery came crashing back; all the happiness I’d been robbed of, replaced by days of tragic sadness that marked my life. But, as I lay awake in the quiet calm of Val’s cottage, coddled amid the comforting warmth of Isla, Wilson and Wilf, I resolved to put the sadness behind me, and to grasp the happy peace that was almost within reach. The joy that shone from beautiful Willow, inspired me. She would show me the way towards being happy. Although I was scared, and worried about the unknown path ahead, I knew I wanted more than anything in the world to be happy, and loved like Willow.

  17

  The sun was rising behind her now; she could feel the heat on her back, and it gave her courage.

  William Goldman, The Princess Bride

  A few days after collecting Maya from Val’s to start her new life, Patsy sat with Maya in Kettlecroft Park, watching Willow chase the crow with Ollie. The bird, as usual was enjoying himself in his crow-like way tormenting the two determined dogs by landing within feet of them, and cawing loudly before flying off with a feathery flourish, as they raced in closer.

  Alongside Patsy on the wooden bench sat Mrs Baker, keeping an eye on Ollie and his antics as she did every morning, come rain or shine. Patsy’s red hair shone bright in the morning sun.

  “At last it feels like spring’s arrived… did you see the daffodils are out over by the beech trees?” Mrs Baker said, waving her walking stick towards the bright flash of yellow beyond where Willow and Ollie were stalking the black feathered tease.

  “Beautiful aren’t they?” Patsy replied. She always loved springtime with its new beginnings and brighter days. Perfect timing for Maya’s new life to get underway.

  “So, how’s she doing? Have heard a lot about her from everyone,” Mrs Baker said, nodding down at Maya who sat at their feet, unmoving on the grass, her eyes fixed on Ollie and Willow a couple of hundred meters in front of her. Caught in the spring sunshine her grey head appeared flecked with shining strands of polished silver.

  “She’s doing good thanks,” Patsy replied, giving the back of Maya’s neck a gentle stroke, being careful not to startle her. “Really good, considering what she’s been through in her life. Little things like this, just touching her can spook her, she’s so unused to humans, or at least humans being nice to her. We do everything very slowly at the moment.”

  “Not letting her off lead yet?”

  “No, no, too risky just yet, I’ve got to be certain she’s not going to bolt off if something scares her,” Patsy replied, edging along the bench to be a little closer to Maya. “We’re working on basics at home, getting her used to me calling her. She’s very greedy, loves her food, which is making things easy as I can tempt her, and treat her with tasty titbits.”

  “Oooooh, knowing how you like to bake, and all the yummy things you bring out here for us all, I bet she’s loving her new home… must seem like she’s in Paradise compared to the hell she’s come from!” Mrs Baker chuckled.

  Patsy smiled, “Yep, it does seem to be helping her trust me. We’re all happy: me, I have a good reason to bake; Willow, she’s getting all her favourites, and Maya… well… we can only hope Maya’s starting to know what happiness is.”

  “And the two of them are getting along ok?”

  “Oh yes, perfectly… couldn’t have hoped for better, Willow’s a great teacher, and Maya’s brilliant at copying her so that’s helping loads. Willow’s also very happy to have a new friend,” Patsy said, thinking how at ease Willow and Maya were together. From the moment Maya entered the house, Willow embraced the role of big sister, happily showing her the household routines and helping Maya to get through each day. Patsy marvelled at the way Maya looked to her sister for comfort, cautiously following everything that Willow did. Many things frightened Maya, like going up and down the stairs which had taken her a few days to master, but eventually, she had got the hang of it with Willow’s help. Patsy was sure, slowly, day by day, Maya’s fears were fading.

  “Puppy farm dogs get along with other dogs, it’s all they’ve ever known in their lives. It’s humans that scare them, sad they have to get used to us,” Patsy said.

  Wherever Willow was, Patsy knew Maya would be, whether they were pottering side by side in the garden, or hovering in the kitchen waiting for dinner. Patsy knew that Maya was learning far more from her sister, than she ever would from Patsy. The relationship between the dogs was blossoming by the day and it was wonderful to see.

  “Makes my blood boil hearing how cruel these places are,” Mrs Baker said. “How anyone can treat dogs like it’s beyond me, so much for man’s best friend!” she said shaking her head.

  “Agree, it’s really horrible. But, that’s all behind this little one at least,” Patsy smiled, as Maya shifted position to lay her head on her paws, eyes still on her sister and Ollie in the distance.

  “Makes you wonder what she’s thinking, doesn’t it? You wondering what your sister and my daft boy Ollie are doing over there chasing that flippin’ bird? Wonder myself at times!” chuckled Mrs Baker.

  “I know, she could be wanting to join in, to run, to feel the fun of the chase… I wonder. She’s never done it, I know that for sure. Being cooped up in a tiny pen her whole life and
only now being strong enough to get out and about, I wonder if she’s itching to run. Or, she might just be completely bewildered by it all, who knows?” Patsy shrugged, reaching down once more to give Maya a reassuring stroke.

  “Well, I’m sure whatever she’s thinking, you and Willow are doing a grand job. She couldn’t have found herself a better home. Brrrr, there’s still a nip in the air,” Mrs Baker buttoned her coat and tightened her scarf as a gust of wind rustled across the park. “Right! We’d better be off, things to do, see you again,” and with that Mrs Baker was up off the bench and across the grass calling Ollie, who appeared not to hear her as he ran in the opposite direction.

  “That’s a Jack Russell for you,” Patsy smiled, as Mrs Baker turned and pointed her stick, shaking her head with a smile at Ollie. Nothing changed, Ollie did his own thing and Mrs Baker loved him all the same.

  Shortly afterwards, with Willow happily tired from her romping about, Patsy, Maya and Willow made their way home along the footpath. What must Maya have been thinking? Patsy wondered, seeing her sister and Ollie running helter-skelter around the park. Did she have any sense running might be fun? Bizarre that a dog would have to learn to enjoy something so basic, but this was how it was. Were you watching your sister in a state of utter bewilderment? Patsy puzzled. Although it was impossible to know what Maya’s mind was juggling with, as her life had been so far from a normal dog’s, it would be a wonder if she wasn’t bamboozled by every moment in each new day.