Be safe
Short story about a dog at the pound.
(Dog owners might get a ride on the feels train.)
A few weeks ago, I wrote this in a few hours in the middle of the night.
Although only partially, it is the first time I have written in first person. Only because I wanted to get closer and perhaps inside the mind and emotions of a dog.
Comments? Feedback? Yes, it's a pleasure! ^u^
I am lying on this very smelly rag. This grey tattered rag is carrying many scents of all kinds of others. I cannot recognize any of the scents. I am sure about that. I never forget a scent. I have smelled many trees, poles, and corners that reeked of others before and never have I forgotten a scent. I never lingered too long smelling familiar scents, but a new scent was always interesting. There could be a new face in the neighborhood after all.
But this grey rag, it's carrying too many scents. It is as if the whole world had slept on it before; young, old, big, small, in heat, or sick, just to name a few. It might probably be true though; the grey dull and tattered rag looks like it has been used too many times. Maybe it used to be a lush black rug. It might be even older than myself.
However, I don't care about the rug. At least it's more comfortable than the cold white tiled floor. Back at home in the kitchen I have somewhat the same white tiled floor. But of course, in the kitchen there is my beloved den. Sure, it has metal grating as its walls, and the bottom is aluminum. But in the den is also my cozy basket with its warm cushion. Besides, it is the perfect place to keep my belongings; I keep duck, pig, rope, chicken, bone, and the tennis ball cousins in there.
Right now however, all my belongings are scattered around in this tiny room. I usually keep them in my den, to prevent them to be stolen. It shows that those belongings are mine. They are in my den. Nobody should ever try stealing my belongings. They should know.
I know that there are some guys and girls very nearby. Maybe they would want to steal my belongings. But it seems like everyone has his own tiny room, and nobody can enter someone else's room. I can smell them and I can hear them, but I can't see them. Through the metal grating of the door, I can only see the white tiled wall of the corridor, which seems to be stretching out to the left and right. Probably, there are many tiny rooms next to me, very much like the one I'm in.
During the first day, I have tried to call some over since it is always nice and well-mannered to meet someone properly (As long as they don't touch my belongings). Besides, there was always a chance they were being spoiled by their family. So now and then I could beg their family for something tasty. But they didn't come. Their family neither. Nobody came.
Every few days, I usually go cycling with dad and visit the park for a meet & greet with other guys and girls. We would play around, steal each other's toys, and chase each other around. Some guys were very smelly and they tried to mount one of the girls. Of course, his parent would scold him. Mounting is bad. I never do bad stuff. I only do good stuff. That is why I get all the tasty food.
But I think I have skipped those meet & greets a few times while staying in this little room by now. I miss those days out. There is nothing to do in this stupid little room. I was frustrated first. I wanted to see my dad and be with him. I didn't want to stay in this tiny room. I wanted to meet the other guys and girls in this building. I wanted to play. I wanted to play with anyone. I wanted to play with dad.
I've cried for dad to come. Every time I called out, I hoped that dad would come. Every time I heard footsteps down the corridor, I hoped that it would be dad. And if dad would appear, he would open the metal grated door, and then I would jump up to him and lick his face. I would jump up and down around him. I would lie down on my back to beg him for belly rubs. But none of the things I wanted, none of it all happened.
After quite a while I realized that I'm alone. Dad was still not coming. With that realization, my world collapsed.
I don't know why dad did not come back home. Every day dad would come home. I greeted him happily enough every time, right? Didn't I show enough happiness for him to come back? I should be happier next time.
I don't know why dad's friends picked me up from home and handed me over to strangers. Why don't they understand that I have to wait at home for dad to come back? I could see they were distressed and they were not feeling well, but that is still not a reason to bring me to those strangers, right? Besides, dad must be worried I'm not home.
I don't know why those strangers keep me here in this tiny boring room. They looked nice enough, but why put me in here then? This is not good. I am a good boy. I don't understand. I am unhappy.
I have given up raising my head every time I hear the door opening. It opened at one end of the corridor echoing through the stale corridor. I could smell the stranger's scent when he entered the corridor. Only when there is someone else with the stranger, I would rise and take a look. Sometimes there would be a guy or girl passing through with the stranger, sometimes they would pass my room and I would greet them quickly by touching their nose before they continued.
Sometimes, there would be visitors. I have seen many people passing by. I have heard them taking someone from other little rooms. The one in the room sounded pretty happy although a bit unsure. It seemed like the one wasn't familiar with those visitors, but joined them nevertheless.
I would never do that however. Maybe someday dad will come. I would never betray him. He is my only dad.
Duck is what reminds me of dad. Dad gave me the duck when I was very small. It made a squeaky noise when I would bite in it. It stopped squeaking when I got older. I'm biting it now, it's not squeaking.
I turn the duck with my paws, and then I hold the duck's head with my right paw against my left paw. This way I can nibble on the largest part of the duck. If I'm lucky, it can still make a soft squeak. I'm unlucky however, it's still not squeaking.
I hear the door opening at the left end of the corridor. Probably the stranger with some visitors is coming by again. I can not smell his scent however. Actually I do not smell any new scent at all.
However, I only hear one set of footsteps. The footsteps don't sound a lot like the heavy working shoes the stranger often wears, the footsteps sound much more familiar...
My heart skips a beat when I see who is standing in front of my room. I freeze. He looks so familiar. But I don't recognize his scent. There is no scent at all.
Then I realize who is standing there. DAD!!!
I jump up against the metal grating. I whine. My tail wags wildly. I'm so happy!
"Hey there you silly!" Dad rejoiced while he enters my room.
I jump up against him and lick his face. I expect to taste his scent, but there is none.
Dad just laughs and pushes me back. "Easy boy!" He laughs.
I jump around him. My tail is wagging so hard, my whole body is wagging along!
"It has been so long! I'm so glad to see you again!" Dad beamed and crouches.
Immediately I drop down on my back, my wagging tail sweeping the floor.
As always, dad crouches and starts giving me belly rubs.
My tongue lolls from the side of my muzzle. I LOVE BELLY RUBS.
On top of that, dad gives me scritches all over my body, paying special attention to scratch behind my ears. He is doing it so feverishly, he almost gets muscle ache from it.
This is the best play time I ever had with dad. I almost can't keep my eyes open from enjoyment. It has been so long since I had belly rubs from dad. It has been too long. But I'm happy now.
After ages of playing, belly rubs, and scritches, dad slows down. I rest my head on his lap while he scratches behind my ear.
While he is still scratching behind my ear, he suddenly turns around. Then he turns back to me. "It's time." He notes.
I look at him quizzically. Dad's not leaving, is he?
"I'm so sorry..." He looks at me with a sad face. "I have to go."
I whine. I hear the door at the end of the corridor opening again. I hear several voices.
Dad turns his head, and then quickly back to me. "I'm sorry... I have to go. Don't be sad."
I still keep whining.
"There are some people coming by right now. Don't be sad. They are good people."
I perk my ears. What does Dad mean?
"You can call her auntie. She is very nice. She will take good care of you." He caresses my back. "Give her those notorious puppy eyes and wag that tail. You'll be fine."
I nervously wag my tail.
"Good boy. Be nice with her, for me." Dad rises to his feet. "Be safe." He winks. Then he turns around and exits, just before the stranger with two visitors arrive at my room.
"... is a lost case actually." The animal shelter warden continued. "This one's been depressed for a long while. I don't know if it ever recovers." He added.
"Well, this one seems alright to me though." The mother noted while keeping an eye on her daughter near the metal grated door. Her daughter's hand was being licked by a very enthusiastic dog. The dog was wagging its tail wildly and appeared to want to play with her daughter very much.
"Mum! I want this one!" The young girl giggled.
The warden turned to the cage in surprise. "Oh, it didn't seem very happy this morning." He shrugged. "I guess it got over its previous owner."
"Its previous owner?" The mother asked.
"Yeah... Quite a sad story though." The warden warned. "The previous owner was a young fellow. He passed away a few weeks."
"Oh." She held her hand in front of her mouth in shock. "What happened?"
"He got involved in a car accident; passed away on the way to the hospital. I heard that according to the police he was speeding." He explained.
"And there was nobody who could take care of the dog after he passed away?"
"Nope." He replied. "It's a real shame though. Most people don't realize what kind of consequences their recklessness might have." He shook his head.
"That's true." She answered, then she turned back to the cage.
"Well, it has been depressed the whole time. But right now it's suddenly really enthusiastic. It really likes your daughter I guess." He looked at the dog. "In any way, just to inform you about this dog in case you're going to pick this one; it has no behavioral record. And so far, besides the depression, it seems to me like a really sweet and playful companion. So your daughter should be alright." The warden stated.
"Hmm." She pondered, observing her daughter and the dog.
The warden let her ponder and turned to the young excited girl. "Sweetheart, would you like to enter the cage?"
"Yes!" She replied without hesitation. After the warden opened the door, the young girl quickly entered the cage and started playing with the dog.