* * *
After that, things changed at home. No longer did Lucas step outside for a moment before running with me to the sidewalk. Now we left together, and Lucas did not mind if I sniffed and dawdled around our front door.
At first, I was confused. A good dog, I had decided, learned from doing things over and over. That’s how I knew No Barks meant to remain silent no matter what the provocation, and Tiny Piece of Cheese meant Lucas loved me and had a very special treat in his fingers. When he told me I was a good dog it was as good as any treat, even chicken, except of course it was always better if there was a treat as well.
But humans can change without warning, and I just accepted this as part of being with my person. So if our pattern of leaving the house was different, I couldn’t begin to guess why.
When Mom took me, we did not walk as far, but sometimes we met people. “She’s my therapy dog,” Mom would say to them. Whatever that meant, I heard the word “dog” and I could feel the approval and affection of the people who would pet me, and knew they understood I was a good dog.
When the air warmed and the leaves waved in the breeze, Olivia took us for car rides to places high up in the hills where the smells were all different. “Let’s go for a hike,” Lucas would say. I always got excited when he went to his closet and brought out a sack with straps looped onto his shoulders—there were always treats in there for me.
“Fox!” Olivia blurted on one such hike. I smelled an animal I had never before encountered, and saw it up ahead on the trail. It ran a little like a cat, low to the ground.
“See the fox, Bella? The fox!” Lucas said excitedly.
A fox was different from another animal—a coyote. We sometimes saw a few of those and I growled deep in my throat at each one. The fox looked fun to chase, but something about the coyotes made them look like small, bad dogs—dogs I instinctively hated.
“Bella wants to chase it,” Olivia remarked on one such occasion. Far up ahead of us, a lone coyote was staring at me as it stood insolently on the path. I growled.
“Right, well, even though they’re small, they’re vicious,” Lucas replied. “And there might be more than one—this one’s out in the open, trying to lure Bella into pursuit, while one or two more are hiding in the bushes.”
“I wasn’t saying you should let her do it, I was just saying she wants to.”
“You’re always telling me I should lighten up. I thought letting my dog chase wildlife might be part of the program.”
“You’re misunderstanding me. What I’m saying is that you should be a better person in general,” she responded lightly.
“I like these long hikes. Gives us time for you to list all my faults,” Lucas observed dryly. “Thank you for that.”
Frustrated, I watched the coyote slink off. Why didn’t we go deal with it?
“How’s your mom?”
I glanced up at Olivia as she mentioned Mom.
“You know, really pretty good. Except for the seizures. Her mood, though, has been really great.”
“Has she always struggled with depression?”
I stopped to smell the deliciously rotten skeleton of a bird until the leash tightened and drew me away.
“I don’t actually know. When she enlisted, I had already gone back to living with my aunt Julie. And then things got really bad when she came back from Afghanistan. You know, drugs and alcohol. Julie got court-ordered custody and Mom just sort of vanished for a couple of years. Then she was committed, got into a program, and asked if I would let her back into my life.”
“Asked you? Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“She sure is proud of you. Talks about your grades all the time, how responsible you are.”
“Well, but you’re teaching me to explore my inner risk-taker.”
Olivia laughed, a short, quick sound. “Yeah, about that,” she said after a moment. “Have you ever said it to anyone else before?” We walked steadily up a high hill, cold air sweeping down from the white-covered mountains. There was snow up there—I wondered if we were going to go roll in it.
“Said what?”
“You know what.”
He kicked a stone that skittered ahead of us like a ball. “No, you’re the first. Why, have you ever said it before to anyone?”
“No.”
“So if next time, you tell me you love me back, it would be history making.”
“You’re going to say it again?” She laughed.
“I love you, Olivia.”
“Men are always telling me that.”
“I’m serious.”
“Of course you’re serious. You’re the most serious person I’ve ever met.”
Lucas stopped and solemnly held my head in his hands. I stared up at him. “Bella, Olivia is terrified to express her emotions.”
I wagged.
Olivia knelt next to me. “Bella, Lucas feels like he has to discuss everything.”
They leaned toward each other over me and kissed. The surge of love between the two of them drew me up on my back legs, reaching up with my forepaws. They were doing love and I wanted to be part of it.
* * *
We were on the sidewalk, returning from the park, when two trucks pulled up near us. The door to one opened and it was the smoky-meat man, Gunter.
The other vehicle smelled amazing. Dogs and cats and other animals, some dead, had painted overlapping odors all over it. I strained on my leash to go to it for a closer examination, but Lucas held me fast.
“Animal control,” Lucas said worriedly. “Come on, Bella.”
“Hey, Lucas!” Gunter called. “Come here a minute.”
A man got out of the front seat of the other vehicle. He smelled like dogs and cats. He was heavy, and he wore a hat. “Kid! Need to talk to you about your dog,” he said.
“Go Home, Bella!” Lucas commanded, but in this variation of the game I stayed attached to the leash and when I ran, he ran with me. This was so much fun I wanted to run and run, but part of Go Home was to go to my spot and lie down. As I did so, Lucas opened the front door and pulled me inside the house.
I could feel that Mom was not home. Lucas was panting, and there was tension on his breath and on his skin. “Good dog, Bella. Good Go Home.”
I wagged.
The bell rang and I did No Barks. Lucas went to it. I could smell that it was the hat-wearing man from the wonderful truck with all the animal odors. Lucas put his eye to the door for a moment, then, sighing, he opened it. “Stay, Bella,” he commanded at the same time.
I had been about to greet the new guest but I knew Stay and promptly sat.
“Animal control,” the hat-man informed Lucas gruffly.
“I know.”
“So I understand you’ve got a pit bull living here.”
“I … we don’t know what breed she is, she was abandoned at birth. We found her in the crawl space where someone from your office says there are no animals living. There are still cats there. More than ever, in fact. You probably know that, though.”
“I’m not sure I care for your tone,” Hat-man stated softly.
“Well, I know I don’t care for your ethics,” Lucas responded.
I heard the rustle of cloth as Hat-man stiffened. “Pit bulls are not legal in Denver, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Bella is special. She’s my mom’s therapy dog. My mom is a vet; she served in Afghanistan.”
“Therapy dog, huh?”
“Would you like to see the letter from her doctor?” Lucas asked politely.
“Can you call your dog over here for a minute?”
“Why?”
“I’m not going to try to take her; I can’t enter a residence to do that.”
“Bella.” Lucas seemed reluctant, but he snapped his fingers. I went instantly to his side. I had the feeling Lucas did not like the hat-man, so I did not approach him to be petted, but remained by Lucas’s leg, catching a strong whiff of all the animals on the man’s clothes.
Hat-man gave an emphatic nod. “Yeah, that’s a pit, all right.”
“Whatever.” Lucas shrugged. “We have the letter.”
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He thumbed it and with a small popping sound a delicious scent filled the air. He threw the treat down on the ground and I lunged for it instantly. Despite what Lucas might think, I found myself liking the hat-man.
“Next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d ask before you feed my dog,” Lucas said coldly.
“Point is, she’s supposed to be able to ignore a treat on the ground. She didn’t, so she doesn’t qualify as a therapy dog.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I catch this animal outside of the apartment, I’m impounding it. It’s an illegal breed.”
“Impounding?”
“You got to pay a fine, and then we chip her and if we ever catch her again, we destroy her.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“That’s the law. I’m just doing my job.”
“The way you did your job certifying there were no cats across the street? Is Gunter paying you to harass us? We’ve done nothing wrong!” Lucas declared hotly. I stirred uneasily.
“That’s where you’re incorrect. You are harboring a banned breed. Pit bulls are fierce, dangerous animals.”
“Does Bella look fierce and dangerous to you?”
“Doesn’t matter. She could be as gentle as a baby lamb, if the law says she’s a vicious animal, she’s a vicious animal. See you, pal. See you soon.”
* * *
The next afternoon, when Lucas came home from Go to Work, Olivia was with him. We went for a car ride! I thrust my nose as far into the wind as I could manage and drank in the amazing mixture of scents coming at me so fast.
Soon we were in a building very similar to the one where Lucas did Go to Work to visit Olivia. We stood in a small room with some strangers in it whom I wanted to visit but was held back by my leash, a room that hummed and made my stomach lurch. This one was much quieter than the one I’d stood in with Ty and Lucas, and every time the room opened, the smells were completely different on the other side, and people would get out, perhaps upset they hadn’t been allowed to play with me. I didn’t understand what we were doing in the small room but I was happy to be there and happy to get out.
We walked down a quiet hallway to a place with a table and where the floor was soft with carpet. A man came in holding papers.
“I’m Mike Powell,” the man greeted. I wagged.
“Thank you for seeing us. I’m Lucas Ray, and this is my…” He gestured to Olivia.
“Careful,” she warned.
“My friend Olivia Phillips.”
“I am his driver.” Olivia held the man’s hand briefly before deciding she didn’t like doing it and letting go. “He treats me inappropriately.”
The man laughed and then bent down to see me. I licked his face. “This must be Bella. What a sweetie.”
They talked and talked while I searched for the softest place in the room. By a narrow table there was a rug on top of the carpet, but it wasn’t quite large enough to get my whole body on it. I lay down, grunting.
I dozed off, but opened my eyes sleepily when I heard the man say my name.
“Bella’s up against the government. I’m afraid the law in Denver is irrational on this subject. Did you know there’s not even such a thing as a specific AKC breed called a pit bull? It’s a whole class of dogs, like ‘retriever.’ Anyway, a couple of years ago a child was killed by what was called a pit bull in the press, so the city council passed the ban. There was lots of testimony that none of these dogs are any more dangerous than any other dogs—in fact, I think that dachshunds bite people more often than any other breed. Pits are very protective of their owners, maybe that’s how this all got started. And did you know that since the ban, pit bulls are more popular than ever in Denver? Got to love Americans. Tell them they can’t have something and they immediately want it so they can stick it to the man.
“Anyway, the problem isn’t that Bella is a pit bull, the problem is that animal control says she is. On one officer’s word alone, she can be picked up. If two more officers agree Bella is a pit, the law says she is a pit. Crazy system, but there it is.”
“But what about the doctor’s letter? It’s not BS, Bella really does give my mom emotional support,” Lucas said.
“I’m afraid the law is pretty harsh on this. Throwing down a dog treat may seem like a crude test, but it’s one of several they can apply—and if she flunks one, that’s it. There’s no appeal.”
“None? Really?” Olivia asked.
“Not in the animal shelter system. We could go to court, of course, but that would be very expensive,” the man replied. “And while we worked through it, Bella would have to stay in the shelter. That could take months.”
“Then what can we do?” Lucas asked desperately. “The guy says if he catches me outside with Bella he’ll take her away.”
The man spread his hands. “Honestly? The way the laws are written in Denver? Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.”
Olivia stirred. For the first time since I had met her, I felt a rising anger in her. “Animal control can come onto Lucas and Terri’s property?”
“No. I didn’t say that. They’d need a court order for that.”
“What about the front porch?”
“Same thing. Or a driveway or a garage. If it is part of your lease, she’ll be okay.”
Lucas bent down to talk to me and I wagged. “That’s it, then, Bella. The bad man comes, you have to Go Home and stay in your spot. Okay? If we do that, we’ll be safe.”
I tensed, not understanding. Go Home?
“I’m really worried, Lucas,” Olivia murmured.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Nine
A few days later Lucas did Go to Work so he could come home smelling like Olivia, but he did not take me. I could feel him out there somewhere, though—I carried his presence with me like a scent. He was my person and we belonged together. Nothing could change that. It was as much a part of me as being a dog.
Mom snapped the leash onto my collar because we were doing Go for a Walk! I danced impatiently as she put on a coat, then took it off with a laugh. “Getting to be too warm for a jacket, Bella,” she told me. I sat at the door, being as good as a dog can be, and finally we went outside. As we passed the den I smelled the cats in there but not Mother Cat.
I was excited to think we might be doing Go to Work ourselves, and that I would soon see Ty and Steve and all my other friends and Olivia and, of course, Lucas, but Mom turned in a different direction. I smelled many wonderful things as we went up a street we had never walked before—animals alive and dead, and delicious foods in plastic bins that sat lined up at the end of people’s driveways. Flowers painted the air with their pollens. A dog barked at me from behind a fence, so I squatted in the green grass in front of him and politely left him notice that I had been here.
Mom rarely took long walks but today she was happy and we kept going, exploring new places. As we did so the truck with all the animal smells passed us—the odors were so intense I wanted to run up to it and sniff. When it stopped I was happy, because of the fragrances it emitted, but Mom slowed up and I sensed her unease.
There was a small dog riding in the back in a wire crate. She was a female who stared at me, but I was a good dog and did No Barks even when the dog took offense at me and yipped sharply.
The man with the hat got out of his truck, hauling up his pants as he did so. Mom halted, and I could tell she was feeling more and more alarmed. I stared at the hat-man, wondering if he was a threat. I would protect Mom because Lucas would want me to.
“I’m impounding the dog,” the man called out as he shut his front door. The way he said “dog” sounded like I was being a bad dog, though I was still doing No Barks.
“No, you’re not,” Mom responded evenly.
“Pu
blic property. It’s my job. You give me any trouble and I’ll call for backup and you’ll be arrested. It’s the law.” The hat-man reached into his truck and pulled out a long stick with a loop of rope at the end of it. I regarded it curiously as he approached. What kind of toy was that?
“You can’t take Bella. She’s a service animal.”
“Not according to the law, she ain’t.” Hat-man paused, and I could sense he was worried, maybe even more worried than Mom. Whatever was happening was causing everyone to be anxious. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Then I suggest you don’t start any.”
“Let me do my job or you’ll go to jail.”
Mom knelt next to me, putting a hand on my face. I licked her palm. I could faintly taste some butter. She unsnapped my collar. “Bella! Go Home!”
I was startled: I only did Go Home with Lucas and did not realize Mom knew the game, too.
“Go Home!” she repeated loudly.
This was as far away from my spot at home as I had ever been, but I knew what to do. I ran.
Behind me I could hear the small dog in the crate barking, and even as the truck faded from my nostrils I was able to track it by her barks and knew it was moving, turning behind me. I dashed across yards, loving the wild feeling of my full-out galloping legs and the utter freedom. Dogs barked at me but I ignored them. I had a job to do.
When I got to the front porch I curled up in my spot by the bushes, panting. I had been a good dog.
I heard a truck pull up and instantly detected the mix of animal odors coupled with that of the one small dog, who had stopped yapping. I heard a door slam and raised my head curiously.
The hat-man stood next to the truck. He patted his pants. “Hey! Bella! Come!”
I was confused—this was not how to play Go Home. But then the man tossed something at his feet and I smelled meat. Yes! I had done Go Home and now I was being rewarded. That was how this worked. I bolted from the porch, gobbling up the treat from the sidewalk.
“Bella!”
It was Mom. She was turning the corner all the way at the end of the street, and was racing toward me. This was also a change; neither Lucas nor Mom ever ran calling when I finished hiding.
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