A Dog's Way Home

At least once a day we would go to the den. There were several houses in a row with no people living in them, but only one had cats. They were walled off by a mesh fence, but Lucas would pull at the wires where they were affixed to a pole and then we would be inside.

The smell of Mother Cat was still strong in the den, though the signs of the kittens were fading from the area. I also knew some of the male cats had returned. Lucas would put food and water down but I wasn’t allowed to eat it. Nor was I allowed to go into the den to see my mother.

“See her? See the kitty? She’s just there, watching us, Bella. You can barely make her out in the shadows,” Lucas would say softly.

I loved hearing my name. I could sense a question in Lucas’s voice but it did not lead to any treats for me. I might not understand what he was saying, but I was with Lucas, so nothing else mattered.

One afternoon I was lying on Lucas’s foot, where I had collapsed after a particularly vicious game of attack-the-shoes. I was not comfortable, lying there, but was too exhausted to move, so my head was much lower than the rest of my body.

I heard a noisy rumble, getting louder, and eventually Lucas shifted in a way that suggested he had heard it, too.

“What’s that, Bella?”

I struggled to my feet. Walk? Treat? Lucas went to the window and looked out.

“Mom!” he shouted in alarm.

Mom came out of her room. “What is it?”

“They’re unloading a backhoe! They’re going to knock down the house, and there are still cats living in there!” He went to a drawer and yanked it open while Mom went to the window. “Okay, look. Here’s the card. Call the rescue. Ask for Audrey, but if she’s not there, just tell them that the developer is going to tear down the house and the cats will be killed!”

I could clearly feel the fear pouring off of Lucas as he went to get the leash. He snapped it onto me. I shook, fully awake.

“I’ll call. What are you going to do?” Mom asked.

“I have to stop them.” He opened the door.

“Lucas!”

“I have to stop them!”

Together, we ran outside.





Three

Lucas ran out the door, pulling me along behind him. We dashed across the street. The fence had been partially taken down. Some men were clustered around the den and there was a large, growly machine. The noise it made was startlingly deep and loud. I squatted to pee and one of the men broke away from the group and came over to us. He had shoes from which wafted fascinating tangs of oils and other sharp fragrances I had never encountered.

“There are still cats living under there,” Lucas told the man as he approached. Lucas was panting and his heart was pounding when he picked me up and held me against his chest.

“What are you talking about?” the man asked, frowning.

“Cats. There are cats living in the crawl space. You can’t tear down the house; it will kill them. You can do the others, but this one has animals.”

The man chewed his lip. He looked back over at his friends, and then at me. “Nice puppy.” His hand was roughly textured when it rubbed my head, and I smelled chemicals and soils, both strong and faint on his skin.

Lucas took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“What is she, a daniff?”

“What?”

“Your puppy. Friend of mine has a daniff, a dane-mastiff. Looked a lot like this when he was just a little guy. I like dogs.”

“That’s great. Maybe, I don’t know what breed she is. Actually, she was rescued from the crawl space under the house you’re getting ready to demolish. There were all kinds of cats, and many of them are still there. That’s what I am trying to explain, that not all the animals were caught. So you can’t legally tear down a house with feral cats living under it.”

From the hole that led to the den I could smell Mother Cat, and knew she had cautiously come closer. I wiggled, wanting to go see her, but Lucas’s hand stopped me. I loved to be held by him but sometimes it frustrated me when it was time to play.

“Legally,” the man repeated thoughtfully. “Yeah, well, I’ve got the demolition permit. It’s posted right there, see? So actually it is legal. I got nothing against cats, except that maybe my girlfriend’s got a couple too many. But I have to do my job. Understand? It’s not personal.”

“It is personal. It’s personal to the cats. It’s personal to me,” Lucas declared. “They are all alone in the world. Abandoned. I’m all they’ve got.”

“Okay, well, I’m not going to debate on this.”

“We called the animal rescue people.”

“Not my concern. We can’t wait for them.”

“No!” Lucas strode over and stood in front of the big machine and I followed, keeping the leash limp between us. “You can’t do this.”

I stared up at the huge thing, not comprehending.

“You’re starting to piss me off here, pal. Get out of the way. You’re trespassing.”

“I’m not moving.” Lucas picked me up and held me to his chest.

The man stepped closer to us, staring at Lucas. They were the same height, eye-to-eye. Lucas and I stared back. I wagged.

“You really want to get into this?” the man asked softly.

“Mind if I set my dog down first?”

The man looked away in disgust. “Momma said there’d be days like this,” he muttered.

“Hey, Dale!” one of the other men yelled. “I just talked to Gunter. He says he’ll be right here.”

“Okay. Good. He can deal with the protester, then.” The man turned and walked back to be with his friends. I wondered if the rest of them would come over to pet me. I would like that.

Soon a big, dark car pulled up and a man stood up out of it. He went over and talked to the other men, who all looked over at me because I was the only dog there. Then the man came over to see me. He was taller than Lucas and bigger around. When he came close I could smell smoke and some meats and something sweet on his clothing and his breath. “So what’s this about?” he asked Lucas.

“There are still some cats living under the house. I know you wouldn’t want to risk hurting them,” Lucas replied.

The man shook his head. “There are no cats. We got all the cats.”

“No, you didn’t. There are still some under there. At least three.”

“Well, you’re wrong and I don’t have time for this. We’re already behind schedule because of the damn cats, and I’m not losing another day on it. I’m got apartments to build.”

“What did you do? With all the cats that were here? Some of them were little kittens!”

“That is not your business. None of this is your business.”

“Yes, it is. I live right across the street. I see the cats come and go.”

“Good for you. What’s your name?”

“Lucas. Lucas Ray.”

“I’m Gunter Beckenbauer.” The man reached out and gripped Lucas’s hand for a moment, but then let go. When Lucas’s hand returned to holding me, there was meat and smoke on his skin. I sniffed carefully.

“You the one been rolling back my fence? I’ve sent guys to fix it three times already.”

Lucas didn’t say anything. Lying in his arms, I was beginning to feel drowsy.

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