Secondhand Dogs

by Carolyn Crimi

  When she saw the woman, large and solid as a mountain, standing in front of the quiet house next to the quiet dog who was gnawing quietly on a tennis ball, something inside that three-legged dog shifted and clicked into place. This time, this time, she felt as though she might be running toward something instead of away from it.

  “Hello there,” Miss Lottie said. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

  The three-legged dog let out a long, deep breath.

  “Home,” she said to the quiet dog.

  “Home,” he said to her.

  Decker

  Decker needed to leave the kitchen, where the stupid, spoiled little pug was, before he did something rash.

  It was too soon. He knew that.

  First he had to investigate this new house. No use putting lots of work into a strategy if the house wasn’t right.

  The family room bulged with torn chairs and fur-covered sofas. Worn dog beds were tucked into every nook. A metal water bowl had been set in the corner.

  For some odd reason, he really liked that metal water bowl.

  He could smell dog poop and urine and sweat and socks and hair and lunch meat and soup. All the smells that Decker expected in a house with dogs and an old woman. But there was also a faint smell of something . . . fishy. It was everywhere. In the kitchen. In the family room. He had smelled it before, but he couldn’t remember if he had liked it or not.

  He poked his head into a tiny bathroom and took it in for a moment. Above the toilet was a child’s framed drawing of a dog. Underneath the drawing, the name “Mr. Beans” was written in pencil.

  If that’s what Miss Lottie thought he looked like, she needed glasses. That dog, with his happy pink tongue and smiling eyes, did not look like Decker at all.

  He took a quick sip from the toilet and continued on. A small room on his left caught his attention.

  He paused in front of the door and sniffed.

  Cat. That was the smell he had been wondering about.

  His nose wasn’t as good as it once was, but he was sure there was a cat in there somewhere.

  He hadn’t known many cats in his time. The few he had known had never been a problem. He found, actually, that they could be a good source of information.

  A sewing machine sat in one corner, surrounded by bags of fabric. In the other corner was a bed. He walked over to it. Sniffed.

  “Come out,” he said.

  Silence.

  “I won’t hurt you. I just want to ask some questions.”

  A small white nose poked out from the bottom of the dust ruffle.

  “Tell me about the pack,” Decker said.

  The nose retreated back under the bed.

  An itchy, prickling hotness spread across Decker’s lips and gums. He snapped his mouth open and shut, biting air.

  “I said, tell me about this pack.”

  He licked his paw while he waited for a response.

  “You should answer when a dog talks to you,” he said.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Decker turned. Gus had snuck up on him and was standing in the doorway.

  “Just talking,” Decker said.

  “We have an agreement with Ghost,” Gus said. “A truce. We don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother us.”

  “Interesting.”

  “It’s the way it is,” Gus said. He held his head high, but he was still shorter than Decker.

  “Who made these rules?” Decker asked.

  “We all did.”

  “Huh,” said Decker.

  He strode out of the room without giving Gus another look. He continued down the hall to another bedroom.

  “Nothing for you in Miss Lottie’s room,” Gus called after him. “We all sleep in the living room, except . . .”

  Decker stopped. He cocked his head to one side and waited for Gus to continue.

  “Except what?” Decker asked.

  Gus paused.

  “Moon Pie sleeps with Miss Lottie. The rest of us sleep in the family room. Moon Pie is new and he’s used to sleeping with a human. It’s the way it is.”

  “You keep saying ‘it’s the way it is,’” Decker said. The burning, itching sensation was growing stronger, more insistent. “I wasn’t here when you made these rules.”

  “The rules work,” Gus said.

  “Oh? What kind of rules allow the smallest, weakest, youngest member of the pack to sleep with the human?”

  Gus growled. “I allow Moon Pie to sleep there because he needs humans more than the rest of us. And Miss Lottie has a nightlight so he won’t be scared of the dark. It’s what’s best for him, and what’s best for his happiness is best for the pack’s happiness. We’ve all agreed on this rule.”

  Decker didn’t respond. He just strutted into Miss Lottie’s bedroom, his head high.

  “Suit yourself,” Gus said from down the hall.

  Decker surveyed the messy bedroom. He immediately went to the wall with the outlet. There was indeed a nightlight in the shape of a dog bone. He sighed.

  Good. Very good.

  Pictures of Miss Lottie with various dogs were everywhere. On her bureau, on her nightstand.

  Decker recognized some of the dogs. The largest frame held a picture of Miss Lottie and Gus. Next to that was a smaller picture frame showing Moon Pie wearing a ridiculous pirate hat. He was in an older woman’s lap, and the older woman was looking down at him, laughing. She had one long, white braid that draped across her shoulder and big, round eyeglasses that made her look like a bug.

  The infamous Gertie, of course. He studied her closely, from her braid to her glasses, mentally storing the important details.

  Roo’s picture showed her running across the yard. A picture of Tank highlighted his big belly.

  There was a faded picture of a large dog and a young girl. The girl had frizzy hair, and she was smiling at the dog. He took up her entire lap.

  Decker moved in closer. The picture of Mr. Beans did look a lot like him. Dark fur. Sharp nose. Pale eyes. Decker studied the way Mr. Beans tilted his head. He noted that the tip of his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth.

  Humans were such suckers. All you had to do was tilt your head to one side and stick your tongue out of your mouth and they’d feed you and house you and do whatever you wanted them to.

  He knew the moment he met her that Miss Lottie would be easy. Not like some of the other humans he’d known.

  A shiver shot through him. He shook it off. No, Miss Lottie was different.

  Once she had fallen for his charms, he could begin getting rid of the others. One by one. Starting with the stupid little pug.

  When it was finally just him and Miss Lottie, he could be at peace. There would always be food. He’d never again have to fight for dominance. And with Miss Lottie near him, he would never have to worry about the darkness. If he could just make her love him the most, everything would be perfect.

  He looked at the bed. He was pretty sure he could get there in one leap.

  He heard footsteps in the hall.

  He crouched, ready to spring.

  “There you are!” Miss Lottie said. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “This room is off-limits. If I start letting all you dogs sleep on my bed, I’ll never get a moment’s rest.”

  Decker looked at Miss Lottie and saw her warm smile. It was time to see what kind of human she really was.

  He tilted his head to one side and let the tip of his tongue stick out.

  Miss Lottie clasped her hands to her chest. “Ohh. You’re so sweet!” she said.

  Decker sprang onto the bed.

  Miss Lottie laughed. “Look at you, jumping up there like you own the place.” She wagged a finger at him. “Get down, boy. Not enough room here for you and me and Moonie.”

  He lay down on the bed and stared at her, the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. When she moved in to pet him, he gently licked her hand.

  “What a cutie,” Miss L
ottie said, shaking her head. “You really are so much like my old Mr. Beans.” She laughed and sat down next to him on the bed. “Okay, just for one night. I’m sure Moon Pie won’t mind sleeping in the family room this once.”

  He nestled his head into his forepaws and closed his eyes while she stroked his back.

  “Such a good, sweet boy,” she murmured.

  He had won his first battle with her.

  It was an excellent sign.

  Moon Pie

  Moon Pie did not like sleeping in the family room.

  He did not like it one bit.

  He always slept in Miss Lottie’s bed, and before that he had always slept in Gertie’s bed. This was all wrong.

  “I don’t understand, Gus,” Moon Pie said. He was huddled up on his tiny pillow with the dog bone designs on it. “Why can’t I sleep in Miss Lottie’s bed tonight? Doesn’t she like me anymore?”

  Gus looked at him from across the room and sighed.

  “Moonie, I told you, it has nothing to do with you. Decker is nervous, that’s all. He’s in a new place. Tomorrow everything will be back to the way it was.”

  Moon Pie studied Gus. He didn’t seem like himself.

  Moon Pie was actually not sure he even believed Gus.

  “But why can’t we both be there?” Moon Pie asked. “Why can’t I sleep in the big bed with the new dog and Miss Lottie?”

  “There’s no way you would both fit,” Gus said.

  “Why?”

  Gus growled softly. “Moon Pie, stop. It’s just one night. You wouldn’t all fit. I don’t sleep in Miss Lottie’s bed because Miss Lottie’s bed is too small for the both of us. The one time I slept there she kicked me in her sleep all night long. The new dog will not like sleeping there and Miss Lottie will not like sleeping with such a big dog, I’m sure of it. And that’s that.”

  “Oh,” Moon Pie said. He nestled into his pillow. “Well, I’ll be back with Gertie soon, and when I am, I’ll always sleep on the big bed, and besides, Gertie’s bed is bigger than Miss Lottie’s.”

  He got up and circled once.

  “Can I sleep with you, Tank?”

  “All right,” Tank said gruffly. “But I’m a light sleeper, so don’t move around too much.”

  “I won’t!” Moon Pie said. He trotted over to Tank and hopped up on his back.

  “Oof,” Tank said.

  “Now go to sleep, Moonie!” said Roo.

  The family room was darker and colder than Miss Lottie’s bedroom. And there was a strange ticking noise. Maybe a clock. Or maybe that spooky-scary cat was clicking his teeth while he was sneaking around doing sneaky things. Did spooky-scary cats click their teeth like that? Moon Pie wasn’t sure. He had heard about Ghost, the cat who lived under the bed, but he had never seen him. Seeing Ghost was actually the last thing Moon Pie ever wanted to do.

  Soon Moon Pie heard all the other dogs snoring, and he knew he was the only one awake. That’s when he heard something else.

  Scritch, scritch, scritch.

  Moon Pie’s ears shot straight up.

  Scritch, scritch, scritch.

  It was a mouse!

  Once, when he was a puppy, a sneaky-pete mouse had skittered across his paws. It almost bit him, too, so he had to race over to Gertie, who had scooped him up and told him everything would be fine, just fine. Then she had kissed him on the top of his head.

  Scritch, scritch, scritch.

  Moon Pie trembled. Sometimes he heard that sound during the day. Gus said once that it was the shade rubbing against the window. Moon Pie stared into the darkness, but he could only make out lumpy shapes.

  Scritch, scritch, scritch.

  Moon Pie’s heart thumped wildly. That sneaky-pete mouse was getting closer! Moon Pie got up from Tank’s bed carefully, so as not to disturb him.

  Swoosh! He raced past the lumpy shapes and scampered into the hall.

  Miss Lottie’s door stood open. Hooray! He sped toward her bedroom and stopped when he got to the doorway.

  The familiar sound of Miss Lottie’s snoring made him feel calmer. He took two tiny steps into the room, dimly lit by the nightlight.

  Something stirred on the bed.

  The new dog. Decker. He sat up in the bed and looked down at Moon Pie.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I want up,” Moon Pie said softly. “There’s a spooky-scary cat and a sneaky-pete mouse and I want UP.”

  He sat back on his hind legs and waved one paw at Decker.

  “Well, well, well,” Decker said. “Aren’t you something? You want up.”

  Moon Pie waved the other paw. He made his eyes bigger. He hoped Miss Lottie would wake up and see him.

  “Yes,” Moon Pie said. “I need to be up on the big bed now, please.”

  Decker stared down at him. Moon Pie wasn’t sure why, but something about the new dog’s stare made him more afraid than the sneaky-pete mouse and the spooky-scary cat put together. He wanted to run away, but his need to be up was stronger.

  “Do you always get what you want?” Decker asked.

  Moon Pie wasn’t sure how to answer that. He actually did get whatever he wanted, almost always, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “You can tell me,” Decker said. “It’s okay. Do you always get what you want?”

  It still sounded like a trick question.

  “Sometimes,” Moon Pie said. “But not always.”

  “Ah.”

  “Can you wake Miss Lottie so I can come up now?”

  “Moon Pie, what do you think is the most important thing a dog can learn in a pack?”

  Moon Pie sat. This new dog had such odd questions and comments. He didn’t understand him at all.

  “Ummm, is it ‘the pack comes first’?” Moon Pie asked.

  “No,” Decker said calmly. “That’s not right. Think harder.”

  Moon Pie scrunched his eyebrows together. The new dog was trying to teach him something. Gus did that all the time. He tried hard to think of the right answer. He liked it when Gus quizzed him and he got the right answer.

  “Ummm, is it ‘stay away from skunks’?” he asked.

  “No, Moon Pie, it’s not.”

  “Oh.”

  “Would you like to know what it is, then?”

  Moon Pie wasn’t quite sure. But maybe if he said yes, the new dog would wake up Miss Lottie and he could get up on the big bed.

  “Yes,” Moon Pie said. He put his front paws against the side of the bed.

  “The most important thing about the pack is that you know your place in it. And you, Moon Pie, are the weakest, smallest, silliest member of the pack.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, Moon Pie. You are the lowest member. Lower than the cat.”

  “But . . . but . . . no one else has told me that . . .”

  “Things are changing around here. I am the top dog now. I’m the one who sleeps on the big bed. You do not. You are the lowest of the low.”

  He looked calmly at Moon Pie.

  “Understand?”

  “But, but—”

  “Quiet! What I say goes.”

  Moon Pie started to whimper.

  “You’re not a puppy anymore. Stop sniveling.”

  “I can’t help it!” Moon Pie said. “I don’t like sleeping in the family room! There are mice and cats and—”

  “You’ll soon learn that you can’t get everything you want just because you’re small and cute.”

  The way Decker said “cute” made Moon Pie quiver. His heart was beating too fast. Everything felt very, very wrong.

  The new dog snarled.

  “I said—”

  “MOON PIE! Come here!”

  Moon Pie spun around.

  Tank stood in the doorway with his chest puffed out. He growled.

  Miss Lottie mumbled something in her sleep. Moon Pie hesitated. If he could just get back on the bed, maybe everything would be better—

  “Get over here now, Moonie!” Tank said.


  Moon Pie knew when Tank was mad. He trotted out of the bedroom. As he was leaving, he heard the new dog grumble.

  “Worthless little mutt.”

  Tank

  Tank felt the tips of his ears growing hotter as he stormed away from Miss Lottie’s bedroom with Moon Pie at his heels.

  “What were you doing in there?” Tank asked gruffly.

  Moon Pie scurried to keep up with him. “It was so dark in the family room, and there was a weird scratchy noise, and I thought it might be a sneaky-pete mouse, or a spooky-scary cat, or—”

  Tank stopped walking. Moon Pie, who was slightly out of breath, stopped next to him.

  “Moonie, you know I’ll always protect you, right?”

  Moon Pie paused. “I guess,” he said quietly.

  “You guess? Haven’t I been there for you since the very first day you arrived?”

  Moon Pie tilted his head to one side. “Yeah,” he said. His tail wagged twice. “You have.”

  “All right, then! I’m certainly not going to stop now! You have nothing to worry about, Moonie. I’m here for you.” He nudged Moon Pie’s side with his nose. “Come on. I’m tired and I’m sure you are, too.” He continued into the family room and plopped down on his bed. Soon he felt Moon Pie curling up next to him.

  “Good night, Moonie.”

  “Night, Tank.”

  Seconds later, Tank could hear Moon Pie’s soft snores. Tank turned from side to side, but he couldn’t get comfortable. So many angry thoughts raced through his mind.

  Decker had threatened Moon Pie. His Moon Pie! Tank couldn’t believe anyone could be such a bully to sweet little Moonie. What would make this new dog behave like that?

  Tank had hated bullies ever since he was a puppy. He had been the largest in the litter, and his mother had told him it was his responsibility to take care of his smaller siblings.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” she always said.

  Tank had taken his job seriously. He kept his brothers and sisters safe from the vacuum cleaner. He helped them down slippery stairs. He chased bad neighborhood dogs away from the fence in the yard.