Secondhand Dogs

by Carolyn Crimi

  “He just gets weirder and weirder,” Cole said.

  Cole was the tallest of the bunch. He also hit the hardest. Next to him stood Sam, whose white-blond hair seemed to glow in the streetlight.

  “Jessie, how do you live with him?” Cole asked. “I’d move.”

  Quinn stared at Jessie, waiting for one of his insults.

  “I’m looking for Miss Lottie’s dogs. They got out,” Quinn said. He didn’t look at the others, just Jessie.

  “Awww, you’re missing your doggies,” Cole said.

  “How sweet,” Sam said.

  “I need to find them,” Quinn said. He tried not to whine, but it still crept into his voice somehow. It always did. “Let me go.”

  Sam grabbed the handlebars and wrenched the bike out of Quinn’s hands.

  “‘Let me goooo!’” Sam squealed.

  “He needs to find his doggies,” Cole said.

  A hot flush spread across Quinn’s cheeks. He could hear his heart beating in his chest.

  He needed to get going. His dogs were in danger. Couldn’t Jessie at least understand that? Quinn yanked his bike away from Sam so hard that Sam staggered back for a moment.

  “Hey!” Sam said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Quinn pointed his bike straight at Jessie.

  “I need to get by,” he said.

  Jessie stared back, but didn’t move.

  “I need to get by,” Quinn said, louder. “Now.”

  “So?” Cole said. “What do we care?”

  Quinn didn’t take his eyes off Jessie. “You used to like dogs,” he said. “You used to care about Murph. You loved that dog more than anyone.”

  Jessie’s mouth twitched.

  “I know you’ve never really forgiven me for what happened to Murph, and I’m really sorry, but you’ve got to let me go look for those dogs.”

  Quinn climbed onto the seat and jammed his left foot against the pedal. He took a deep breath.

  “I don’t care what you do to me tomorrow or the next day. Just let me get by so I can help them.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Dad would have wanted me to find them. I just know it. He loved Murph, too.”

  Quinn held his breath, waiting. They didn’t talk about Dad, not ever, but as soon as he mentioned him, Quinn knew that Dad was there with them somehow, in that very moment. A warm breeze gently swirled around them. Quinn felt it. He wondered if Jessie felt it, too.

  Jessie’s face softened. He looked into Quinn’s eyes and seemed to really see him for the first time since Murph died. He nodded once and stepped aside.

  Quinn didn’t hesitate. He rammed his other foot onto the pedal and pumped his legs. His bike zigzagged for a second before he regained his balance.

  “We’re just going to let him go?” Cole asked.

  Quinn sped down the street until he was almost a block away.

  “Yup,” Jessie said, loud enough for Quinn to hear. “Let him be.”

  Gus

  As soon as Pam and Chris left the alley, Gus and Roo raced toward Moon Pie’s howls with Tank lumbering behind them. Roo’s nose guided them to pizza crusts, rat droppings, a rusted swing set, and, finally, a small brick house with a tidy yard.

  Roo ran in crazy circles in the yard.

  “The coyote smell, it’s—”

  She stopped. Her tail drooped. She backed away from something lying on the ground.

  “What is it?” Gus asked. He took three quick leaps and landed next to her.

  “It’s—”

  But Gus saw it before Roo even finished her sentence. A bloody rat lay in a heap in the grass.

  Tank was standing next to him. “No way Moonie did that.”

  They stood there staring at the dead thing.

  “We have to get Moonie home,” Gus said. “Whatever got at that could easily get to him.”

  There was movement in the window of the house. They moved closer to it. A woman with a ponytail was opening a cabinet in the kitchen.

  “He’s in there,” Roo said. “I know it.”

  They stood motionless, staring into the house.

  “You’re right, Roo,” Gus said after a few minutes. “Watch how the woman bends down every so often. She might have her own dog, but I bet it’s Moon Pie.”

  “What do we do?” Roo asked. She bit her tail while doing a quick spin. “What, what, WHAT?”

  Tank lay down on the grass next to Gus. His panting was labored. It had been a long day. Gus knew he needed rest.

  Gus, too, could feel the weariness of the day weighing him down. He hadn’t had his medicine since early that morning, so his eyes felt dry and itchy. His legs ached. The hard, cold pavement in the alley had made his paws sore.

  “We’ll wait,” Gus said. “If he’s in there, and I’m pretty sure he is, he’ll have to come out some time.” He turned to Roo. “How close is the coyote? Is he nearby?”

  Roo didn’t even need to sniff. “No,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t come back.”

  “If he does, I’ll be ready for him,” Gus said. He didn’t feel brave, not at all, but he made his voice sound big and bold. “If you guys want to go back, I understand. Tank, that cut looks bad. And Roo, I know this kind of thing makes you nervous.”

  Tank stood quickly. “Of course we’ll help you,” he said. “Moonie needs us, and we need Moonie. This cut is nothing.”

  “Yeah, Gus, we’ll help, we’ll help,” Roo said. She pushed her nose gently against his ear.

  Gus felt something loosen in his chest. Something that had been stuck. Roo was back on his side. His pack was working together again. Suddenly the aches and pains he had had just moments before melted away. He felt stronger and lighter than he had since Decker showed up.

  “Thanks,” he said. He nuzzled Roo back. “Let’s find somewhere safe to rest.”

  The three of them sniffed around the yard, which was larger than most, until they found a smooth patch of dirt behind some bushes. They curled up into a warm ball of fur to stave off the chilly night air.

  Gus kept staring into the yard, watching and waiting for the coyote. Every so often, he’d glance up at the woman in the kitchen window, hoping she was taking good care of Moonie.

  “You know what your dog gift is?” Tank said.

  Gus didn’t answer. Ever since Decker had arrived, Gus had been worried that whatever his dog gift was, it wouldn’t be enough to keep his pack safe.

  “How much you love your pack,” Tank said. He turned onto his side and heaved a long, weary sigh. “Your dog gift is love.”

  Gus thought about that as he kept watch. Was love the best gift for a pack leader? Wouldn’t it be better for him to have a good nose, like Roo? Or strength and courage, like Tank?

  Love just didn’t seem like enough.

  Ghost

  Ghost awoke with a start. A strange moaning sound had roused him out of his sleep. When he swiveled one ear toward Miss Lottie’s bedroom, he could hear faint snoring. Not a human snore. It was the new dog, Decker.

  Ghost heard another moan.

  “I was so stupid!”

  It was Miss Lottie’s voice, although it sounded different than it usually did. Choked. Strained. He slipped out of his underbed home and padded down the hall to the family room.

  It was unsettling to see the empty dog beds and realize that the dogs were gone now. The small, excitable puppy. The big, beefy one who always smelled like mud. The three-legged one with the loud and irritating bark. And Gus, of course.

  Gone.

  He tried to understand why it felt so wrong. After all, they certainly bothered him with their noise, their messes, their smells. But he was used to that. Now everything felt off, as though someone had moved his bed to a different spot.

  The new dog had stayed, the one that smelled of dirty water. Of all of them, he was the quietest. But he couldn’t be trusted.

  Ghost heard sniffling and the rustle of tissues being torn from a box. He took a few more careful steps unt
il he found Miss Lottie in the kitchen. She sat at the table, her shoulders slumped, her head down. Crumpled balls of tissue were scattered in front of her.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she murmured.

  Ghost was fond of Miss Lottie. She fed him and cleaned his litter box in a timely manner. She let him stay under the bed. But mostly, she never expected him to be one of those mushy, nose-rubby cats who snuggle up with their humans. That was not his style, and she knew it.

  And yet, at times, he sensed that might be what she wanted. She would pat her lap and say, “Here, Ghost! Come on over for a little bit.”

  He never did.

  He wasn’t like that.

  “Oh, hey, Ghostie,” Miss Lottie said, smiling weakly. “Don’t suppose you want to come up?”

  He gave her a slow blink, the equivalent of a cat kiss. He was never sure if she understood that.

  “No, no, I don’t suppose you do. I get it.” She sighed and pulled out a fresh tissue to blow her nose. She made another moaning sound.

  The sound shot right through to Ghost’s heart. He had never seen Miss Lottie this way.

  Cuddling in her lap was out of the question. What if he didn’t like it? What if she didn’t like it? She might stop feeding him and cleaning his litter box.

  Or worse, she might expect it all the time. He couldn’t possibly come out every day for her. That was an awful lot to ask. He had a strict schedule of fur cleaning and napping.

  “Oh, Ghost. What am I going to do?” She sighed and moaned again.

  He took a few steps toward her. He rose up on his hind legs and put one paw on her knee.

  She looked down in surprise. “Oh!” She smiled a little. “You want to come up?”

  He thought of the empty dog beds and the tissues covering the kitchen table and of his old friend Gus out in the world looking for Moon Pie.

  Before he even realized it, he had leaped up into Miss Lottie’s lap and accepted her scratches behind the ears.

  He even nose-rubbed her chin.

  “Thanks, Ghost,” Miss Lottie said. “Thank you very, very much.”

  Moon Pie

  “Wake up, little Moon Pie!”

  Nina was already dressed. She smiled and waved a leash in front of him.

  “I hope this leash is okay,” she said. “It belonged to my old dog, Winnie, but I think it will work for you, too.”

  Moon Pie was used to leashes, but he had never really liked them. He preferred to do his business while wandering around Miss Lottie’s yard. It always made him feel like an adventurer.

  Tank and the others were probably in Miss Lottie’s yard right this very second. Tank would be licking his belly. Roo would be running in circles. Gus would be making sure everyone was okay.

  He missed them so much.

  He hated that they had lied to him, hated it like he hated sneaky-pete mice, but he still thought about them all the time. Snuggling on Tank’s broad back. Sleeping in the big bed. Eating popcorn. He missed it all.

  “Let’s go for a walk, ’kay, Tweedle-Dee-Dum?” Nina asked.

  She took him off the bed, hooked him up to the leash, and walked him to the front door.

  “Out we go!” she said, holding the door open.

  Moon Pie stepped outside and headed to the first tree he saw. As he did his business he sniffed the breeze that sidled by him. He could smell tree bark, Nina’s warm and toasty smells, a little bit of squirrel fur, which made him shudder, and . . . something else . . . something familiar . . .

  TANK!

  Moon Pie barked.

  “TANK! TANK! TANK!”

  “Moon Pie, what is it?” Nina asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Tank, I smell you! Where are you! I miss you!”

  “Something’s bothering you,” Nina said. She reached down and scooped him up. He wriggled, but she held on tight.

  “Is it the leash?” Nina asked, peering into his eyes.

  “TANK!”

  “All right, we’ll go back inside.”

  “But wait—Tank—”

  She brought him into the house, shutting the door with her foot.

  “There, there,” she said. “Calm down.” She gently unhooked the leash.

  “Tank,” Moon Pie whimpered. “I know I smelled him.”

  He had not realized how much he missed his Tank until Tank’s special smell—kibble, grass, roots, mud, and a little bit of Tank poo—drifted by.

  Loyal, trusty Tank. He had comforted Moon Pie after his first bath at Miss Lottie’s. He had calmed him when a squirrel teased him. He had made sure that Moon Pie was always warm and safe. Moon Pie should have known that Tank would find him.

  Moon Pie had also smelled other familiar scents. Roo’s worry had a certain bitterness to it, and Gus took a medicine that made him smell sharp and tangy, like cheese. All those smells had come forward, too.

  They were out there, and they were looking for him!

  But then Moon Pie remembered.

  They had lied.

  All of them.

  Gertie, sweet old Gertie, was searching for him, and they had not told him about it. They had let him believe she was just on vacation and that she’d be picking him up soon. They had kept him from the person he loved most in the world.

  He hung his head and stared at the floor. They could sit out there as long as they wanted to. He was never, ever going to join them!

  “Want some breakfast, pumpkin bunny?” Nina asked. “I’m making bacon.”

  Moon Pie’s head snapped up. Why think of those old dogs when he had bacon to eat? He trotted over to Nina’s feet and planted himself in front of her while she cooked all kinds of delicious things.

  “Here you go,” she said. She bent down with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon. He sniffed hard, concentrating on the wonderful smells.

  “We’re going for a little ride today,” Nina said. She gathered her keys and her purse as she spoke to him. “We need to get those scratches checked out.”

  After she was finished eating, she scooped him up. “I don’t think you liked that leash, so I’ll just carry you.”

  She carried him out the door and into the backyard. Moon Pie smelled Tank, Gus, and Roo even more strongly now. He peered over Nina’s shoulder and saw them crouched behind some bushes.

  He looked right into Tank’s eyes for a long moment. Tank seemed to be pleading with him to come back.

  Moon Pie turned away and gave Nina a lick on the cheek. He hoped they all saw it.

  Tank

  Tank squeezed his eyes shut.

  Moon Pie, his Moon Pie, had known they were there, and yet he had turned away from them. From him.

  Tank felt a paw gently nudge his side.

  “We can find him,” Gus said. “But we should leave now. Get up.”

  Tank didn’t feel like getting up. He didn’t feel like going after Moon Pie. He didn’t feel like doing anything at all. He had failed miserably. He hadn’t been a good guardian to Moon Pie. If he had, Moon Pie wouldn’t have left.

  “I’m staying here,” Tank said. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and burrowed his head into his paws. He felt as heavy as a bag of rocks.

  “Come on, Tank,” Gus said. “We have to see him face to face and explain.”

  Tank sighed, but didn’t budge.

  “Here, eat this. It’ll give you energy.”

  Tank opened his eyes. Gus had dropped an especially ripe-smelling piece of bologna right near his nose. Tank sniffed it, licked it, and sighed. “He saw us and he just looked away.” He put his head on his paws. “He’s mad. He’ll never forgive us.”

  “That’s why we have to tell him what really happened,” Gus said. “We’ll have to tell him that we lied because . . . because . . . we thought it was best for him.”

  “We should have told him the truth,” Tank said. “He has every reason to be mad at us. He risked his life because we didn’t tell him about Gertie.”

  Even though Tank had agreed to lie about Gertie, he kne
w now that his sweet little Moon Pie was tougher than he’d thought.

  Maybe he had been overprotective. Maybe it was okay for others to get hurt every once in a while.

  “We’ll tell him we made a mistake,” Gus said. “We’ll explain why we did it. I don’t think he’ll stay mad. He’s not that kind of dog.” He looked at Tank. “But we have to try, Tank.”

  Gus was right. They had to tell Moon Pie why they’d done it. Moon Pie needed to hear their side of the story.

  Tank stood.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.” He slurped up the bologna in one gulp.

  Roo sniffed the air. “We have to leave SOON,” she said. “If he goes too far in that car, I’ll never be able to pick up his scent!”

  She started running in quick, urgent circles around the yard. “And I smell coyote, Gus! It’s back!”

  “I smell him, too,” Gus said. “He’s probably hunting for food. Let’s go.”

  Tank gave himself a gentle shake. He winced. The gash on his side had spilt open. He reached over and tried to lick it, but he was too big.

  Gus moved closer to him and gently licked the wound.

  “It’s deep,” Gus said. “And I don’t like the way it smells. We need to get you back to Miss Lottie’s so she can take you to the vet.”

  “I’m fine,” Tank said. The scrape stung, but it was bearable. He slowly walked out into the yard. “Come on, Roo, which way do we go?”

  Roo sat. She stayed very still as she pointed her nose to the sky. She looked right, then left.

  “This way,” she said.

  Moon Pie

  Nina opened the window on Moon Pie’s side of the car.

  “Thought you might like a little fresh air and sunshine, snugglebug,” she said.

  Moon Pie stood on the seat so he could stick his head out the window. He loved the way the air pushed against his fur and how all the smells in the world rushed toward him. He sniffed hard as they zoomed down the street, hoping to get a whiff of Gertie. They drove past two women on bikes, a mail carrier, and a girl on a skateboard. When he saw a big shaggy dog being pulled down the sidewalk by his human, he called out to him with the customary dog greeting.