Lucy

by Chris Coppel

  Pru and Angel looked around, wondering to whom Lester could be referring. Then, with the beginnings of a smile rising on her muzzle, Lucy moved away from the group and took a step towards the birds. She took another and felt no different inside at all. She looked back to Lester who simply gave her an encouraging nod while the others looked at her with puzzled expressions.

  Lucy realised that if she was going to do it, she was simply going to have to let go. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then charged!

  For the first few moments, she felt nothing special, but then something happened. Maybe it was the wind blowing her coat out behind her. Maybe it was the fresh air washing over her exposed tongue. Whatever it was, Lucy felt a rush of energy surge through her body. A sense of joy and euphoria cascaded over her every nerve and cell. She ran faster, and without any conscious willing, began to bark. Openly and with total abandon, Lucy barked like she had never barked before.

  The pigeons could now see and hear her, as she lunged towards them. They began to lift off into the safety of their own air space, but this didn’t faze Lucy in the least. She was no longer simply chasing after a couple of birds in a park. There was something older and more primeval swirling through her. She could almost sense the urgency and instinctual need to chase and consume that was rising within her muscle memories and reflexes that had been lying genetically dormant in her senses for thousands - maybe even millions of years. Surprisingly, these emotions did not evoke any real blood-lust in Lucy, probably because of the irrepressible docility of her breed. She simply felt more alive as she charged through the rising cloud of birds, than she’d ever felt in her life. Her body tingled. Her senses were ready to explode with delight. As a grand finale to her new sense of freedom, she gave up on the birds, and rolled over, and over, and over on the soft and slightly damp carpet of sweet-smelling grass.

  She glanced over at the others and saw that the males were all beaming at her, fully understanding her experience. Pru and Angel, however, were looking over at her with expressions of utter distaste. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Lucy felt that she’d somehow let down their side. So, what! Maybe for once she had, but she would savour this experience for the rest of her life; of that she was certain.

  She gave them a joyous bark, which the boys immediately acknowledged and returned. Pru and Angel however, turned away, clearly embarrassed, and pretended to be in deep conversation.

  “It’s wonderful to be alive!” she suddenly cried out, much to the delight of the males, and even greater embarrassment of the females.

  She smiled to herself knowing that on that day, she was definitely one up on life.

  CHAPTER 14

  Food. That was still the big issue. By early evening, they were all feeling the exhaustion that comes from an exceptionally long, and arduous, day. Most of all though, they felt hunger. They knew they’d eaten at some point in the day. They could even vaguely recall snippets of images involving exploding wine bottles and the dog food bag breaking open in the tube station, but that was about all. The point was, when were they going to eat next?

  They located a very secluded and cosy spot at one end of the small lake. Just off a biped path, and within earshot of a modern glass structure in which humans had been dining all through the day; they stumbled upon a fenced-in area that encircled a picturesque pond with water cascading into it from a pool above. Behind this waterfall was a cave. Not a real cave mind you, it was more like a carved-out area for storage of some kind. Anyway, it was perfect for the seven of them. They could look out, but no one it seemed, could see in.

  Once settle in their new lair, Rodney crept out so that he could scout local food prospects. As they waited for him to return, they began discussing what they would do next. One thing became very evident, and that was that they all wanted to go home. All except Rex, who of course didn’t have one. The strange thing was that as he’d never had a proper home, the very concept of a cosy family life was utterly foreign to him.

  It became a challenge to see who could think up the best examples of what home life meant, so they could get the point across to the Doberman.

  Pru felt that home was where almost constant grooming took place. It was where one was brushed, teased, powdered, clipped and bathed on an almost continual basis.

  “If you were not in the process of making yourself look beautiful, you were planning how next to tackle the challenge,” she explained.

  Hans felt that home was the feeling of warmth when he was let in after a hard day with the horses and was allowed to stretch out among the family in front of a roaring fire.

  Angel felt that home was the constant struggle of wills between herself and the family’s other dog, the black lab. After some prompting from her, she did admit that there was a certain feeling of security to her life, especially when she took her place at the foot of her mistress’s bed and moulded herself to the warm contours of the young human as she slept beneath the covers.

  Lucy started to relay that, to her, home was where she was allowed into her Man’s room upstairs. There she would lay at his feet as he worked, feeling his gentle hand stoke her coat. Lucy stopped talking when she noticed Rex turn away and bow his head. She stepped over to him and tried to speak so as to offer some kind words, but he simply pushed her aside and ran out into the fresh air, now slightly chilled since the sun’s departure sometime earlier. Lucy followed, and as she approached him, marvelled at the transformation the world undertook as soon as the golden orb descended from view each day. Colours that had been so vibrant and varied, now seemed somehow muted and of a singular hue. Where, during the day, Lucy could clearly see and define each and every blade of grass beneath her feet, they now looked more like part of a dark blanket that stretched out before her.

  Rex was standing alone under the grey silhouette of a large chestnut tree, staring up at a single cloud as it passed across the night sky. Lucy moved to his side and gave his neck a gentle nuzzle of greeting.

  “I’m sorry Goldie. I don’t know what came over me. Those stories you were telling, they hurt me somehow. I felt an ache in my chest and . . . ,” he shook his head as if trying to shake of a bug. “Never mind. I shouldn’t complain. I’ve not had such a bad life really. I’ve been fed well and given shelter and . . . and . . .”

  “Rex, it’s me. Let it out. Maybe I can help.”

  “There’s nothing to let out,” he said, while consciously trying to bury his emotions. “I just got a little sad for a moment back there, but I’m fine now. Honest.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” he replied.

  “Then you won’t mind my finishing the story.”

  Rex simply stared back at her in silence. Lucy couldn’t clearly make out his expression in the darkness, but she knew she had to get through to him while his emotions were near the surface. She had no idea what made her feel a sudden need to help this dog that she’d only known for a matter of days. She only knew that it was essential for her to try.

  “Late at night,” Lucy continued. “when my people were in bed, I’d walk slowly through the house and make certain that all was well. I would check that the doors were securely shut; that the embers in the fireplace were dying out safely within the hearth, and that Cook and my Man were sleeping soundly in their beds. There’s a feeling at such moments, when they are entirely in your care, of pride at the responsibility with which you’ve been entrusted. Maybe it’s similar to how you feel when you stand guard on one of your assignments.”

  Lucy’s timing was obviously spot on. Rex looked up into her eyes, and she could clearly see the tears as they welled up and held the reflection of the starlight from overhead.

  “Oh Goldie, you have no idea what my life has been like. I’ve never felt comfortable anywhere. I don’t feel pride at guarding an empty factory building or a fenced-in yard, filled with junk. There’s no emotion there. I was taught
to attack people, not love them. I always assumed that was normal, and that all dogs were taught the same, until I met you lot. Now I don’t know what to think. I thought I was perfectly content to live alone and to do my job every day and simply . . . simply . . . ”

  “Exist?” Lucy offered.

  “Yes, that’s it! Exist. But now I feel this aching inside. I want to know what it’s like to have a human brush me or hold me out of affection rather than just leading me by my collar to the next assignment.” Rex sighed. “Goldie?”

  “Yes Rex?”

  “What’s it really like? You know…being stroked and petted?”

  She looked into his inquisitive face and couldn’t help but smile. “It’s wonderful Rex. It truly is.”

  “I don’t know why, but I thought it must be,” Rex whispered, dreamily.

  “I’ll tell you one thing that’s for certain,” Lucy said, with conviction.

  “What’s that?”

  “You will know what it’s like before long. I promise you.”

  “How?” he asked. “How’s that ever going to happen to me?

  “I just feel it, that’s all. I think that any dog that’s ready to love, as you are now, will find a way to make it happen.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Dog’s honour!”

  Rex, now deep in thought, looked up at the night sky as Lucy smiled to herself.

  “Yo!” Rodney shouted from the direction of the cave. “They told me you were out here. So, tell me, just how hungry are you?”

  Lucy and Rex glanced apprehensively at each other as Rodney trotted over to them.

  “Why?” Lucy asked suspiciously.

  “Well, it’s like this,” he began timidly. “I’ve located food, lots of it, but there’s a slight drawback.”

  “Such as?” Rex inquired, as he looked down upon their fidgety leader.

  “Such as,” he swallowed deeply. “It’s in the rubbish bins.”

  “No! I won’t even listen.” Pru, who had come out to join them, turned away and pretended to sniff at the base of the tree.

  “It’s not like it sounds. It’s the bins out back of that restaurant place by the lake. For some reason, they dump masses of perfectly good food before going home. I had a good sniff, and it wasn’t half bad.”

  “But Rodney!” Lucy said turning to face him. “Bins?”

  “Look, I know it’s not proper and all that, but I think we’ve all got to bend a little. Hopefully, this little ordeal will be over soon, but in the meantime, I think we’d better settle for just about any food and shelter we find.”

  “He has a point, Goldie,” Rex added.

  She looked at the two shadowy silhouettes, imagining the hopeful expressions that were hidden from her in the darkness.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said with resignation. “Let’s go and have a look at what you’ve found.”

  “I think you’ll be pleased,” Rodney’s voice was filled with pride.

  “We’ll see,” Lucy said, pretending to be coldly critical of the entire event. In fact, even talking about food had made her even more hungry.

  As it turned out, the meal wasn’t bad at all. The seven crept up to the deserted restaurant, then made their way to the back where the bins were kept, well out of sight from the occasional passing human.

  The one initial problem was that the upper part of the bins were filled with quite an astonishing amount of paper bits and cardboard, making scavenging for edibles, overly complicated.

  Rex had the solution. He placed his front paws onto the metal lip of one of them, then backed up. The bin tipped, then fell over, sending its contents cascading onto the hard ground. Rodney then demonstrated his ability to wade right into the pile and separate out the worthwhile parts with astonishing grace and agility. He could locate a sausage, dig it out, and then toss it onto the nearby grass without hardly even bruising it.

  After Rex had tipped a few more bins, and Rodney had scouted out and retrieved the good bits, the seven retired to the grass for dinner.

  The meal consisted of numerous whole or partially eaten sausages. Two intact meat pies, four rashers of bacon, two chicken legs, one entire chicken breast, and an unlimited supply of bread rolls. Alright it wasn’t exactly home cooking, but it certainly beat the alternative of a long, hungry night.

  Satisfied, and suddenly very sleepy, the seven strolled back towards their cave, marvelling at their own shadows that were cast by the tall lamps that bordered the path.

  As they reached the waterfall, Angel stepped behind it and out of sight. Just as Pru was about to follow her, there was a loud hiss, followed by a volley of furious ‘fowl’ language. Angel came out yelping as she ran through the water and into the pond.

  “Back!” Rex commanded authoritatively. “Get back all of you.”

  He waited until they were all a safe distance from the cave, then stormed in. Again, there was a moment’s silence before another hiss, and even greater torrent of livid, avian expletives. Then another noise filled the air. It was deep and guttural. A sound that made the hair on Lucy’s back rise in fear. She knew exactly what it was but could not believe the intense ferocity that it contained.

  Rex was growling. The bird abuse suddenly stopped, and moments later, a very disgruntled goose waddled out of the cave. It gave the group a filthy glare, and an angry honk, then rose into the night sky and was gone.

  Rex stuck his head out and grinned at the others. “We talked. He gave me his opinion. I gave him mine, and we reached an agreement. It’s ours for as long as we need it.”

  Angel stormed passed him, mumbling to herself about how wild birds shouldn’t be allowed out at night, then gave her coat a good shake prior to entering the cave. The others tried to suppress their grins as they followed her inside.

  It turned out to be a very cosy sleeping place. The steady sound of the waterfall became almost hypnotic. Coupled with their recent feeding, plus a very full day’s activities, all seven were fast asleep within moments of lowering themselves to the ground.

  Lucy awoke to a bright shaft of sunlight that seemed to cut through the waterfall and blanket the sleeping forms of her friends. She watched as the light refracted off the water, creating the illusion of thousands of diamonds suspended in the air, dancing excitedly before her sleep-filled eyes.

  She lowered her head back onto her front leg and tried to recall the events of the past few days. She felt that on one paw, she had been away from the cottage for a very long time, but also knew that it had, in fact, only been a matter of days. It was extremely hard for Lucy to keep time in any logical order. Humans always think that dog thoughts closely mirror their own. They do not. Humans become too involved in agonising over little things, while dogs usually only concern themselves with the bigger issues, like food and warmth. There is simply not enough room to keep bad thoughts in their head. It’s hard enough to recall what took place the previous day without lingering on specifics, especially negative ones.

  Lucy could vaguely remember Cook screaming and the sensation of movement as the paper thing was raised in anger. She had a hazy recollection of her cell and the yard. She did, however, have a vivid memory of the Fat Man hitting her, and of the Squat Lady taunting her, but even those recollections had begun to fray like some aged piece of fabric.

  One thing that Lucy found very surprising, was that she no longer felt the fear that had consumed her only days earlier. It was not an emotion she’d been used to or enjoyed in the least.

  She looked around the cave at the others and realised just how important they had become to her. Through their company and camaraderie, she had learned the importance of friendship and how, even when faced with fear or doubt, the burden could be greatly lessened when shared with others. The concept was still foreign to Lucy, as she had been raised relying solely on her own devices to sti
ll any internal disquiet. Certainly, her Man or Cook were there to play with her, or cuddle at times that she felt the need, but they could never help her with the deeper sensations, the ones that were capable of creating stronger, more consuming anxieties. She’d learned that, on those occasions when Cook and her Man tried to help with a rare bout of troubled emotions, they somehow didn’t have what it took to fix her wounded spirit. She would try to explain what it was that was bothering her, but found at those moments, the canine-human gap, mysteriously widened into an insurmountable abyss.

  As she looked to her sleeping friends, she realised for the first time how much she’d been craving the company of others of her kind. There were the neighbourhood dogs of course, but these were mainly local breeds or farm dogs, whose idea of a stimulating afternoon, was to challenge each other to see how many trees they could mark on only one bowl of water.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, honking sound coming from outside the cave. She attempted to ignore its persistent and intrusive tone, but it was then joined by another honking noise, then another. Lucy thought this very odd and eased her sleepy limbs to an upright position, so she could poke her head outside the cave.

  She stared at the sight that greeted her with total disbelief. There, on the grassy knoll at the base of the falls, were well over thirty geese - all honking angrily up at Lucy. At the front of the ranks was the goose that Rex had ousted the previous evening and was clearly the one in charge of the assembled gaggle.

  Lucy didn’t speak much goose at all. Her mallard wasn’t bad, but goose—well, she had simply never had the opportunity to learn. She could only make out every other word or so.

  “ . . .come . . . you . . . my home . . . friends to help. You . . . now . . . or we . . . come . . . get you,” the goose voiced, threateningly. The goose’s anger conveyed the meaning quite clearly even with the missing words.