Loose the Dogs

by P. D. Workman

  Brenda sighed. “That’s good.” She looked at Darren. “So if there are any problems, we’re not stuck with him. We can change our minds.”

  “Right. That’s helpful.”

  “So shall we get you signed up?” Bill asked.

  Brenda nodded and broke into a grin again. “Yeah, let’s get it done,” she agreed with a big smile. She bent over to rub the dog’s head again. “Let’s get it done and take this baby home.”

  Brenda got the dog settled in the kennel and put the food bowls in the kitchen. She put a dog bed on the couch so there was somewhere he could lie down comfortably without getting his fur all over the furniture. Everything looked good.

  She looked at the clock, waiting for the kids to get home. She was so excited for them to get home. She felt like there should be banners hung up, saying ‘welcome home doggie.’ It felt like Christmas. She would wake up early Christmas morning before the kids were awake and lay there in excited anticipation, waiting for them to wake up so she could watch them. She loved to watch their surprise, their happy faces. For her, that was Christmas.

  She looked at the clock again. Not a minute had passed. She wanted them to be home. Sighing, Brenda went to peek out the front window, just to make sure they weren’t back yet. But there was no car pulling up out front.

  “They’ll be home soon,” Darren told her, noticing her anxiety.

  “I know… I know. I’m just waiting…”

  Finally, Brenda heard the front door open. The kids ran in, calling to her to tell her about their fun day with Grandma. Brenda smiled at her mother at the door.

  “Come in, stay for a few minutes,” she invited.

  Grandma Rose knew what was happening, so she nodded and waited there to watch. Brenda bent down to hug Cassy and Bubba.

  “Hi, guys! Did you have a fun time?”

  “Mama, we had so much fun. We played at the park and we made cookies—”

  “Cool. That sounds fun. Did you have a good time too, Cassy?”

  “Mama…” she wasn’t as verbal as Bubba. Words came with difficulty. Brenda waited patiently for her to get something out. “We play park; we make cookies.”

  “Yes, that’s what Bubba said, isn’t it? That sounds like a fun time.”

  “I play play dough,” Cassy added, looking at her brother to contradict her.

  “She played play dough, I didn’t,” Bubba said, playing the superior older brother.

  “Play dough is good. I have a surprise for you today.”

  “Surprise?” Cassy repeated.

  “What’s the surprise?” Bubba asked, looking around excitedly.

  “Something really great,” Brenda teased.

  Bubba started to pace the room, looking for the surprise. Brenda heard the dog yip in his kennel. Bubba had been looking under the couch and he suddenly stood straight up, listening, alert. He looked at Brenda, meeting her eye.

  “Mama?” he asked tentatively.

  She nodded.

  “No way!” Bubba shouted. He ran out of the room to the back door, where the kennel was located. “Cassy, come here!” he shouted.

  Cassy pattered after him. Brenda and Grandma Rose followed them to the back door and watched as Bubba circled the cage, looking at the dog from all angles. Cassy, staring in amazement at the dog, crouched a few feet away.

  “Mama, it’s a dog!” Bubba exclaimed. “It’s a dog for us?” he demanded.

  “Yes, Bubba,” she agreed.

  “A dog for us!” Bubba yelled at his sister.

  Cassy looked at him, her eyes sparkling.

  “Doggie for us?” she echoed to him, and then she turned and looked at her mother. “Doggie for us?” she repeated.

  “Yes, Cassy,” Brenda assured her.

  Bubba stuck his fingers in through the bars of the kennel. The dog yipped and turned frantic circles inside the cage.

  “Brenda,” Grandma Rose said warningly.

  “No, Bubba,” Brenda corrected. “Don’t put your fingers in. You’re making him upset. We’ve got to keep him calm, and then you’ll be able to pat him and play with him. Okay? We have to give him a chance to get used to a new place and the new people.”

  Bubba pulled back his fingers. Brenda could see he really wanted to put them back in and touch the dog.

  “You’ll get to touch him, Bub. Just not right now. When an animal is in a cage, if you stick your fingers through the bars, you could get bit. Animals bite when you stick your fingers through the bars.”

  “Oooh,” he said, and put his hands in his pockets.

  “Mama,” Cassy tugged on her arm. “Mama, mama!”

  “What is it, Cassy?”

  “Mama. Doggie name?”

  “Oh.” Brenda smiled down at the pudgy little girl. “The doggie doesn’t have a name yet. We have to think of one.”

  “I know a name!” Bubba shouted.

  “What, Bub?”

  “Rover. You could call him Rover. Or Bumblebee.”

  Brenda looked at him, bemused. “Bumblebee?”

  “Yeah!”

  “We’ll have to think about that. We have to find a name that fits him.”

  “Kitty,” Cassy contributed sweetly.

  “What?”

  “Name Kitty.”

  “But he’s a puppy, Cass.”

  Cassy nodded seriously. Brenda shook her head at her silly children. She could see she was going to have to be the one to name the dog. Darren wouldn’t have any interest in it, and the children were going to pick something ridiculous. The dog deserved a proper name, like Stanwick. He’d always been happy with his name; and it was something dignified, good for a Great Dane, nice and solid. It wouldn’t work for the new dog, of course. She needed something a little warmer and friendlier. And the dog was shy. She’d have to take all those things into account in picking out a name.

  “Mama, when are you going to let him out?” Bubba asked.

  “Not for a while. He needs to get used to you and Cassy being around, okay? You can go find something to do now and I’ll call you for supper.”

  “Is he going to eat supper?”

  “He’ll eat his own supper. Dog food, not people food.”

  “He dog,” Cassy contributed, directing this at Bubba.

  “I know he’s a dog,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “Him eat doggie food.”

  “Cassy, go away!” Bubba snapped. “You’re bugging me.”

  Cassy looked at him for a minute, then left the room. Brenda raised a brow at Bubba.

  “You need to be more polite to your sister. You might have hurt her feelings.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Bubba assured her.

  Brenda looked at him for a minute, then shrugged. “You go find something to do too. You’ll get to pat the dog later, okay?”

  He rolled his eyes theatrically, and with a big sigh, headed out of the room. He stopped in the doorway and turned back.

  “Mama?”

  “Bub?”

  “I really like the new dog. Thank you for getting him.”

  Brenda smiled, her face getting warm. “Thank you, Bubba. I’m glad you like him. I think it’s going to be great having a dog around here.”

  “Me too,” he agreed.

  Then he left the room. Brenda looked at Grandma Rose. “Well, what do you think?”

  “We should have videotaped it. That was just so sweet. They’re going to love having a dog.”

  “I know,” Brenda agreed. “And me too. I’ve been waiting so long, living in all these places where we couldn’t have a dog. I’m happy to finally be able to have one.”

  “And how do you think this little fella is going to do? He’s not a puppy.”

  “I didn’t want a puppy. I still have two kids in diapers! I think he’s going to do great. He’s gentle and shy. He won’t be mean to the kids.”

  “Good. And he doesn’t have a name yet? What are you going to call him?”

  “I forgot to ask the Humane Society what his p
revious owners called him. I guess it doesn’t matter; I’ll train him to answer to something else. But it would have been good to know. Might help the transition.”

  “Are you going to let Cassy call him Kitty?” Grandma Rose asked mischievously.

  Brenda laughed. “No, not a chance. You can’t call a dog Kitty; it’ll get an inferiority complex!”

  “Cats think they are superior. Maybe it will give him a superiority complex.”

  Brenda giggled. She turned around to face the counter. “Do you want a coffee?” she asked.

  “I would love one. Then I’d better leave you to supper.”

  Brenda put some coffee grounds in the machine and leaned against the counter while she waited for it to perc.

  “So, how were the kids at your house?”

  “Good, as always. Not much fighting today. Bubba is getting better with Cassy.”

  “And she’s getting to be more and more like a little person. Bubba’s getting rambunctious, I’ll be glad when he’s in kindergarten. He needs more to keep his attention. Somebody else watching him so I don’t have to do it all day.”

  “Don’t wish away your time. Enjoy it while he is still a preschooler and don’t wish he was older all the time. You’ll miss these days when they are all teenagers.”

  “I know. But he’s at a sort of awkward, in-between age. I think he’s ready for school.”

  “Good. Better for him to start when he’s ready than too early. And if Cassy’s in preschool half days, then you’ll be able to spend some quality time with the baby. And the dog!”

  “I’m looking forward to it. I think I might get back into running. It will be good for me, and the dog will keep me going out.”

  Brenda let the dog out of the kennel. She carefully put the leash on the dog, murmuring to him.

  “There, that’s a good boy,” she approved. “You sit nice for me, don’t you? Good boy.”

  The dog whined slightly and lay down on the floor, raising his paws for her to scratch his belly. Brenda smiled and rubbed his stomach.

  “There you go, you wuss.”

  She waited for him to get back up, and then put her hand on his head.

  “Good boy. Stay.”

  She waited until he seemed calm and settled, then called for the kids.

  “Cassy, Bubba, you can come in and see the dog now.”

  The children ran across the house to the kitchen and cooed excitedly over the dog. Brenda patted him to keep him calm.

  “Okay, come over here, and move slow. Show him the back of your hand. Let him smell you.”

  “Like this?” Bubba asked, holding out his hand toward the dog.

  “Yup, that’s right. Just sit there and let him smell you for a minute.”

  Bubba kept still, holding his hand there. The dog sniffed him for a few minutes, and then rubbed against Bubba’s hand. Bubba grinned.

  “He likes me!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes, he does,” Brenda agreed. “You’re doing a good job.”

  “Me?” Cassy asked.

  Brenda nodded. “Just like Bubba,” she agreed, “show him your hand first.”

  “’Kay,” Cassy agreed.

  She squatted close to the dog and held out her hand, trying to move exactly as Bubba had. The dog sniffed at her, and eventually he rubbed against her hand too.

  “Like him,” Cassy cooed.

  “Yes, you like him, and he likes you.”

  Brenda rubbed the dog’s head. “You’re a good dog. Aren’t you doing so well to sit here quietly,” Brenda said.

  The dog rolled his eyes back. Brenda continued to rub his head affectionately.

  Cassy left and came back with a bag of doggie treats in her hand.

  “Him eat?” she asked.

  Brenda laughed. “You’re too smart for your own good, aren’t you?” she accused.

  She took the bag from Cassy. The dog sat up, very interested in the bag of treats. He sniffed and nosed at it and pawed at it with his front paw. He whined, a high-pitched whine.

  “Be patient,” Brenda remonstrated. “You’ll get some.”

  She opened up the bag and pulled a biscuit out. She held it in her hand.

  “Do you want a treat?” she asked.

  The dog strained to get at it. He yelped. Brenda held it still, waiting.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  After a moment of straining for the treat, the dog did. He sat there, watching the treat, his body shivering with anticipation.

  “Good dog. Lie down?”

  The dog didn’t move.

  “Lie down,” Brenda repeated more firmly this time, and she held the treat close to the ground. The dog moved toward it to snatch it away from her.

  “No. Lie down,” Brenda snapped, pulling the treat away. “Come on. Sit.” The dog behaved. “Now lie down.”

  She pressed on his shoulder and reluctantly, he obeyed.

  “Good boy. Now stay.”

  There was a noise in his throat halfway between a whine and a growl, sort of a grumble, and the dog kept his head down between his paws, watching her movements. Brenda waited, watching for any movement. Once satisfied, she held the treat out.

  “Good boy. Here’s your treat.”

  He snatched it from her hand so sharply it made Brenda jump.

  “You are impatient, aren’t you? Well, at least you stayed like you were supposed to. We’ll have to work on that. Grabbing is rude, you know.”

  “Rude,” Cassy echoed.

  “That’s right,” Brenda said.

  “He does good tricks,” Bubba declared. “Doesn’t he, Mama?”

  “He does well. But he needs a bit of polish. I think he might have been spoiled a bit at his last home. We have to make sure he knows there are rules here. That will keep everybody happy.”

  “Daddy doesn’t like him,” Bubba said.

  Brenda frowned. “What? Did Daddy say that?”

  Bubba shook his head. He assumed a different posture. It was obvious he was imitating his father.

  “That dog better stay off of the couch and not jump up on me,” he said in a lofty voice.

  Brenda rolled her eyes. “Well, like I said, we’ll teach him to follow the rules, and then everybody will be happy. Including Daddy. Because the dog won’t get fur all over the couch or jump on Daddy. Will he?” She directed this at the dog, who looked up at her while crunching his biscuit and had no answer for her.

  “But you put his bed on the couch,” Bubba pointed out. “So how can you make him stay off of it?”

  “He can only sleep on his bed. That will keep fur from getting on the rest of the couch. It’s okay if he sleeps on his part of the couch, just not on Daddy’s!”

  “Or mine,” Cassy put in.

  “Okay, or yours,” Brenda agreed. “He’ll stay off everyone’s part of the couch, and he’ll only sleep on his bed.”

  “Okay,” Bubba said uncertainly. “I suppose so…”

  Brenda shook her head at the attitude and mannerisms he picked up from his father even when he wasn’t mimicking him. It was cute.

  “How about Jake?”

  Darren rolled over in bed, trying to pry his eyes open and focus in on Brenda.

  “What?” he asked muzzily.

  “For the dog’s name. I like Jake.”

  Darren wiped his face with both hands. “Yeah. I like Jake just fine,” he agreed.

  “Is it too simple? Too common? I want a good name, but not something everyone else has used.”

  Darren cleared his throat. “No, you’re right,” he agreed.

  “So you think it’s too common of a name?”

  “I think it’s up to you. Do you think it’s too common?”

  He couldn’t figure out why she was bringing this up in the middle of the night when he was half-asleep after a long day’s work. Why would he care what she named the dog? As long as the dog knew its name and responded to it.

  “Oh, you’re no help,” she snapped.

  Darren analyzed h
er tone. Was she playful, or really irritated? Had he screwed up?

  “Sorry,” he said slowly.

  “No, you’re right. It’s my choice. You don’t even like the dog.”

  This time, he was pretty sure she was being sarcastic. Darren had no clue where this was coming from. He thought he had been very supportive of her desire to get a dog. He’d even gone to the pound with her.

  “I like the dog fine,” he said. “Did I tell you I didn’t like it?”

  “You apparently told the kids.”

  “The kids… no, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

  “Bubba thought you did. So you do like him? You’re not mad about me getting him?”

  “No. I wanted you to be happy.”

  “Oh, good. Well, think about Jake, okay? Do you think it’s a good name for him?”

  Darren took a deep breath. He lay there staring at the ceiling, counting the seconds. He wanted her to think he was thinking deeply about this. It was somehow important to her. So he gave it due consideration before coming up with an answer.

  “He looks like a Jake,” he said. “I think that’s a clever name. Do you think it suits him?”

  “Yes, I really do. I look at him, and I think, ‘that’s Jake.’”

  “Well then, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, does it? If that’s the right name for him, who cares how many other Jakes there are out there?”

  Brenda nodded excitedly. “You’re so right! I know a lot of people didn’t like ‘Bubba,’ but that didn’t stop us from naming him Bubba. It was just the right name for him, and if anyone didn’t like it, then too bad. It suits him.”

  “Right,” Darren agreed. He had never admitted it to her, but he was one of those who didn’t like the name Bubba. But over the years, it had grown on him, and now he couldn’t imagine his son named anything else. The name had grown on him, or Bubba had grown into it. Now, Darren was convinced it had been the right choice. And if she needed confirmation the dog’s name was right, he was happy to supply her with that too.

  “Bubba is Bubba,” he said with finality. “And the dog is Jake. Let’s celebrate in the morning.”

  Brenda made a little cheer and cuddled up under his chin, making a purring sound. “You’re the best, Darren. You always know what to say.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, tightened his arms around her to give her a squeeze, and closed his eyes to go back to sleep again.