The Loving Little Puppy Dog

She was an adorable little fuzzball, all wriggly and scrappy. She loved truly and fiercely and without limit all that surrounded her: the soft green grass, the scent of flowers on the wind, the taste of chicken bits the small humans fed her when the tall ones weren’t looking, her brothers and sisters, and everything else besides. Mostly, though, she loved the humans.

Some were big and tall. They came to bring food and water, and she ran up to them with a wagging tail and twined herself around their legs. She lived for their warm caressing and the praise they would give as they whispered, “Good girl!” Others were small and fast, like her. They would throw balls and bones, play tug-of-war with the rope, and race with her until they tumbled together down the sloping green hills all loose blades of grass and dirt and love.

As she grew, her love grew also, but she found the world was not always kind. Sometimes the bright blue skies would turn gray and pour cold, driving rain upon her. Then she would huddle under trees or under the awning in the yard hoping to find a small measure of warmth and comfort. Sometimes it did not rain at all, and the world grew hot and inhospitable. She would search and search for water to give a small measure of coolness and relief. Still, life was good and beautiful, and she loved every minute of it.

Her brothers and sisters slowly went away, off to other homes. No longer would they play together. No longer would they eat from the same dish. No longer would they tumble together down the green slopes with the smaller humans after a long day of play.

One day, a new human came, and it was her turn to go to a new home. She loved the tall man already. He smelled of something that was somewhat sweet, and yet spicy at the same time. Of course, it wasn’t hard for her to love him. She loved everyone freely and without fear. Excitedly, she jumped into his car. He dragged her out, spanking her lightly, and then set her in a cage in the back. Undaunted, though smarting, she looked excitedly out the window through the bars of the cage, occasionally giving small whimpers of excitement as the car moved forward.

As soon as the tall man clicked the door of the cage, she burst forth in excitement, sniffing the ground all around him. He quickly grabbed her and buckled a collar around her neck. The leash limited only her physical movements. It could not limit her excitement, and she explored, sniffing everything as far as she could before feeling the tug against her neck.

She was not allowed into the house, though she knew there would be such interesting smells there. She was put in the back and the leash was taken off. She had explored the whole yard in the seconds it took for the shorter one to step outside. She bounded up to him happily, wagging her tail with her tongue lolling out. She loved him the moment she saw him, but he pushed her roughly away when she got near. “Ugh!” he cried in disgust. “What is this?”

“I got you a pet,” the tall man said, “something to cheer you up.”

“You thought this would cheer me up?” the shorter one said. He slapped her away once again, hitting the delicate part of her nose. She flinched, then, unsure what she had done wrong. She approached the shorter one more cautiously, giving her tail a couple of wags. He smelled so interesting! She wanted to be near him. She wanted to play with him. She loved him. He pushed her away again.

Confused, she went to the corner of the yard where the small doghouse was and looked around for… ah, there it was. She picked up the ball and loped back to the shorter one, wagging her tail in delight. This would cheer him up for sure! She knew how this toy worked.

Dropping the ball at his feet, she sat and stared up at him with admiration and joy, waiting for the ball to be thrown and the exciting game of fetch that had always bonded human and canine to begin. Instead, she felt a rough kick in her ribcage. It took her a couple of minutes to catch her breath, to realize what had happened. Why did he do that? What made him so angry?

The loud voices didn’t make her feel any better. The tall one was screaming at the shorter one, and he slammed the door and went inside. The tall one sighed and followed him, leaving her alone in the increasing darkness without caress, without even seeing if she had been seriously injured.

She slunk off to the doghouse to wait for dinner. Perhaps then someone would come and play fetch with her. Perhaps then they would pet her and cuddle her as they had in the place she had left behind her when the tall one came and took her away.

But nobody came, not even to feed her, and to her smarting nose and her aching ribcage was added the pain of hunger.

The tall one came in the morning with food, be he did not caress her. He did not even call her “good girl,” and he did not throw the ball. He just left the food and water and departed. She ate slowly, and though she was confused by the behavior of her new humans, she decided to enjoy her day. She went out and sniffed every blade of grass in the yard, marked the tree as her territory, and made friends with a family of birds that had built a nest right up above her doghouse.

While she was looking at the bird’s nest, she saw a squirrel. This squirrel was halfway down the tree, needing to gather nuts to store for the winter, when he spotted her and froze. She shot across the yard in seconds, barking all the way. Oh, she was so full of joy! A chase! A friend to play with! The squirrel dashed up the tree faster than she could reach it—this decreased her joy not at all, for she had never expected to catch the thing—and she was left to put her front paws against the tree and proclaim her joy with her loudest barking voice. I am here! I am free! I see you! You see me!

She did not expect the blow, so it hurt all the more when it came. A sharp smack against the head. Then a kick in the side again. “No! Shut up! No, no, no! Don’t bark!” Subdued, she turned to find the shorter one back. She looked up at him and gave her tail a single wag. Why was he angry? Did he want to join in the game? Of course she would let him! He didn’t need to hurt her…

“What are you doing? Come inside!” a woman came out behind the shorter one. “Ugh. Why did your father pick that one? It’s so ugly and gray.”

The shorter one grunted and walked back through the sliding glass door. Meanwhile, she tried to approach the woman, wagging her tail slowly, not sure if she was friendly or not. She thought the woman was so beautiful, and she smelled so fresh. “No. Stay!” the woman said, pushing her away. She pushed her tail between her legs and slunk back to her doghouse as the woman walked through the sliding glass door also.

The man came again the next morning, depositing food and water, and again the following morning. Her days began to take on a routine. The man would come, give her food and water, and then he would leave and she would be alone. She was alone all the time, now, except when the man came or if the woman came outside to make her stop barking or tend to her garden. She learned that the woman would shove her away if she ever tried to go near her when she came out to water the plants. She stopped expecting caresses from the man, and if the shorter one ever came outside, she slunk away to her doghouse to hide until he left, for often he would hurt her when he came, and she never really understood why.

The squirrel, having collected all his nuts, was now off somewhere else hibernating for the winter. The robin family that had built its nest above her doghouse had flown off to nicer climes. She knew all of the yard, every blade of grass. There was nothing left to explore, and nothing to look forward to.

One day, the shorter one had friends over. There were two boys, both smelling somewhat of smoke, and a girl who smelled like flowers and intrigue. They came outside to “get away from the parents,” and sat on the deck together and talked.

She knew the shorter one was frightening, but she hadn’t seen anyone except the tall man in so long, and she hoped these other humans might be friendly. Wagging her tail, she loped over to the deck to greet the newcomers.

“What a cute dog!” the girl said. “What’s its name?”

 “Oh, that? I don’t think she has a name,” the shorter one said.

“How could you not name your dog?” the second friend of the shorter one said.

“I didn’t want it; my dad picked it out.”

“I think it’s ugly,” the shorter one’s third friend said. He was the shortest of the four teenagers, and he smelled of smoke and alcohol. “Let’s play with it.”

She got so excited at the word play! Nobody had played with her in such a long time! She let out one joyous bark, loped to her treehouse, and came back with the yellow tennis ball that had always promised joy for her in her youth. The shortest one slapped the ball out of her mouth, grabbed her roughly by the scruff of her neck, and yanked her toward him. Confused and hurting, she whimpered. Something was wrong. She growled as he yanked on her tail, but the shorter one grabbed her by the muzzle and held her mouth closed. Whimpering now, her eyes widened as she felt something tied tightly around her tail and heard the girl cry, “What are you doing?”

“It’ll be fun!” the shortest one said. “C’mon!”

“No, stop! That’s terrible!” the girl shouted, but the shortest one just laughed, and pulled something out of his pocket.

*Click* Oh, that was hot! Then there was pain and popping sounds and she was running, running, running, but unable to escape the pain and the noise and the heat. All the way around the yard she ran and cried and begged for it to stop, stop, STOP.

The popping stopped and the heat stopped, but the pain went on and on and on, and she was alone, now, with the pain, because the shorter one and his friends had gone. The girl, sobbing, had left on her own, but the boys had been told to “Go home!” by the tall man’s gruff voice. He came, then, and brought something to bandage her tail, but she wanted nothing to do with them now. She growled and snapped and licked her wounds by herself, but the pain wouldn’t stop, and the tall man just left her there after a while. It only took three snaps to make him leave.

She was hurt. She was hot. The food wasn’t good anymore. The water made her stomach turn. She tried to keep the wound clean, but it hurt too much. She wanted to go home, back to the kind people with the games and the hills where her brothers and sisters used to play together. But home was gone now, and it could never come back.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the food started tasting good again. The taller man kept bringing it, though he had stopped trying to look at her tail. She waited far away in the back of her doghouse while he left the food and water, then she cautiously approached the dishes, wary, always wary for another attack.

The woman came out once, and she growled and snapped at her. After that, the woman didn’t come out anymore.

She didn’t understand these humans. Why didn’t they love her? She had only wanted to love them, to play with them, to share life with them. Why did they keep hurting her? She had to keep herself safe. She couldn’t allow them to come near her any more. They only brought her pain. Still, something inside of her knew this was wrong, remembered the humans of her past. Surely, surely there was more than this. She was meant to love, not fear.

When the little girl came up to the fence, with a giggle said, “Hi, doggy!” in that kind voice that humans used to use in the olden days, and stuck her hands through the slats while wriggling her fingers in a gesture that said Come here! I want to pet you! the little dog didn’t know what to do. The girl smelled of peppermint and sweetness and love. And yet, humans had only ever been the source of misery and pain for so long. Could she hope for a gentle caress? Or would the girl hurt her as everyone else had?

She sniffed the air and perked up her ears. She could go to the girl and wag her tail and offer herself up to the girl’s waiting hands. She could go to the girl and snap and growl. What should she do? She stood up and stepped out of the dog house…