I wondered if I should run to her and tensed, and just as I did so I felt a collar of rope slip over my neck and then suddenly I was on the worst leash imaginable, stiff and unyielding. I twisted against it. “No, Bella,” the hat-man told me.
“Bella!” Mom cried again, her voice filled with anguish and despair.
The man lifted me up with one arm, holding onto the stiff leash. He shoved me into a crate next to the one containing the little dog, who cowered away from me, no longer willing to challenge me now that I was this close to her. He shut the door of the crate. What were we doing? Mom needed me! I whined. When the truck rumbled and pulled into the street I was frightened and confused. I did not understand.
I was in the crate and knew to do No Barks. The truck drove away and Mom was still running, but as we turned the corner I saw her sink to her knees with her hands to her face.
* * *
Hat-man drove his truck to a building that was powerfully redolent with cats and dogs and other animals. I could faintly hear dogs giving voice to what I felt, which was a devastating fear.
One at a time, Hat-man led the little dog and then me into the building at the end of the stiff leash. When I entered the barking was much louder and the odors much stronger. I could track where the little dog had gone, but I was led into a different room, one with big, sad, barking dogs in crates with high walls. I did not want to be here. I wanted to be with Lucas.
My collar was removed and I was put in a crate myself. It was very big compared to any other I had seen. There was a soft bed for me, and a bowl of water. I drank from it, wanting to do something normal and familiar.
The din from the other dogs was incessant, and I was pulled by it, yearning to join my voice with theirs. But I did not because I knew I needed to do No Barks. I needed to do Sit. I needed to be the very best dog I could possibly be so that Lucas would come get me and let me out.
I wasn’t there long before a younger woman came to get me. She had one of those stiff leashes—I could not understand why they would want such a thing. It prevented a good dog from licking and pawing.
She took me to a room that reeked of chemicals. The hat-man was there, as well as a nice woman who touched me softly, the way the vet often did. The nice woman pressed something up against my chest. “I don’t think you can call her a pit, Chuck.” I wagged my tail a little, hoping when this was over Lucas would come get me.
“Me and Glenn and Alberto all say she’s a pit bull. Signed and sealed,” Hat-man replied.
“Alberto is on vacation,” the nice woman snapped. She seemed irritated.
“I texted him a photo and he faxed in his affidavit.”
“This is BS,” she muttered.
“No, see, I been telling you this is how it works. Every time we bring in a pit bull you want to have the same argument.”
“Because it’s wrong! The three of you certify more dogs as pits than the rest of the ACOs combined.”
“Because we been here long enough to see what happens when some kid gets bit by one!” Hat-man said harshly.
The woman gave a weary sigh. “This dog isn’t going to bite anybody. Look, I can put my hand in her mouth.”
Her fingers tasted of soap and chemicals and dog.
“I’m doing my job. You do yours. Get the chip in her so if we pick her up again in Denver we’ll know she’s a two-strike-you’re-out dog.”
“I know what to do, Chuck,” she responded in clipped tones. “And I’m going to file an objection as soon as we’re done here.”
“Another one? I’m pissing my pants,” Hat-man sneered.
Eventually I was returned to the same crate. I could not remember ever being so miserable. The fear and despair and anxiety coming off the other dogs affected me until I was panting and pacing. All I could think about was Lucas. Lucas would come to get me. Lucas would take me home. I would be a good dog.
Every time the door opened it was someone else, someone not Lucas. Some of the dogs would charge to the door of their crates to be near these people, wagging and pawing at the wire and whining, and some would shy away in fright. I wagged but did not otherwise react. Usually someone left with a dog, or brought in a dog.
What were we all doing here?
Eventually a nice man came to get me, but not to take me to Lucas. Instead, he put a very strange leash on me, one that completely encircled my snout.
“You’re a sweet dog. You’re a good dog,” he told me as he touched me gently. I wagged, thrilled to be leaving the crate. I hoped we were going home to my family!
The nice man led me to a steel door and then outside into a yard. The abrupt change in smells made my nostrils flare. The ground underneath my feet was hard and knotty, with limp grass lying sparsely against the dry earth. Almost every inch of yard was painted with dog smells, evident with every inhalation. “My name is Wayne,” the man told me. “I’m sorry about the muzzle. Supposedly you’re a vicious killer dog who will rip my limbs off.”
His tone was as kind as his hands. He lifted his knuckles to my snout and I licked past the strange collar as best I could. We walked around the yard, staying on a path that ran along a high fence. It was obvious that many, many walks had been taken prior to mine. I gratefully squatted by the fence—I did not want to Do Your Business in the crate, even though it was a large enclosure and other dogs in the room had not been as clean.
The man did not pick up after me the way Mom and Lucas did. “Just another pile for me, don’t worry, Bella. I have to come out in a little while and get everybody’s. It’s the glamor part of my job.”
He was compassionate and he petted me but he did not take me to Lucas. He led me to the same crate, though I sat on the floor and resisted as he pulled my leash.
“Come on, girl,” he murmured to me. “Get in your kennel.”
I so did not want to go in there, but when the man pushed me I slid on the slippery floor and then I was back, curling up mournfully on the dog bed while he fastened the door. I put my nose between my paws and listened to all the bad dogs ignoring No Barks. I was heartbroken. I must have been a very, very bad dog for Lucas to have sent me to this place.
* * *
Was this my new life? I was walked in the yard a few times a day, sometimes by a nice woman named Glynnis and sometimes by the man named Wayne, and always with the uncomfortable collar that held my teeth together. Dogs barked all the time, whether it was dark or light. Sometimes Wayne came in with a hose and sprayed it and at first the smells of dog poop rose on the wet air and then the odors would fade away, which made the room with all the crates even less interesting than before.
I missed Lucas so much. I was a good dog with No Barks, but I did cry sometimes. I thought I could feel his hands on my fur when I slept, but when I awoke he was not there.
I remembered the squirrel we found in the street, the squashed one. How different it was from a living, bouncing squirrel. It was an almost-squirrel, a dead squirrel.
That’s how I felt.
I did not eat. I lay on my dog bed and never moved when my door was opened for Wayne or Glynnis to walk me in the yard with the high fence. I didn’t even care about all the wonderful markings left by male and female dogs out there. I just wanted Lucas.
When a new woman came and put the strange leash on my nose and led me out into a hallway, I struggled to get to my feet, feeling stiff and lethargic. I went willingly but I did not wag. My head was lowered and I registered all the dog and cat scents on the air without excitement.
She led me into a small room. “Here, Bella, let’s put this back on.” With a familiar tug on my neck I was wearing my collar, so that I sounded like myself again. There was a soft pad on the floor, so I went to it, circled, and lay down with a sigh. “I’ll be right back,” she told me. The woman left. I did not know where I was and did not care.
And then the door opened. Lucas! I scrabbled to my feet and leapt into his arms just as he entered the room. “Bella!” he cried, staggering back and sittin
g down.
I was sobbing and panting, trying to lick him through the stupid collar. I rubbed my head on his chest and circled in his lap, putting my paws on his chest. He put his arms around me and a feeling of well-being flooded through me. Lucas had come for me! I was a good dog! Lucas did love me! I never wanted to be apart from him again. I was so happy, so relieved, so grateful. My person was here to take me home!
The new woman was there, too. She had found Lucas for me!
“Can I take off the hockey mask?” Lucas asked.
“We’re not supposed to with pit bulls, but sure, she’s obviously no threat.”
Lucas unsnapped the thing around my nose so I could kiss him properly.
The woman held up some papers. “Okay, I know you signed the forms, but I want to reiterate what they say. If your dog is picked up again for any reason within Denver city limits, she will be held for three days and then destroyed. It’s two strikes with pit bulls. There is no process for appeal other than the courts, and I have to say, the judges pretty much defer to the ACOs. Most of the officers here are amazing human beings who are really concerned with animal welfare but the one who picked up Bella is … Let’s just say Chuck is not my favorite, and he’s got a couple poker buddies and they cover for each other on everything. Do you understand what I am saying? It’s the system; it’s stacked against you.”
Lucas felt sad despite the fact that we were back together. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You have to get her out of Denver.”
“I can’t … there are reasons why I can’t move right now. My mom … it’s complicated.”
“Then good luck. I don’t know what else I can say.”
When we left the room and went outside, Olivia was waiting! I yipped with excitement, so happy I wanted to run around and around. She dropped to her knees and gave me love, hugging me and letting me lick her face.
A man approached—it was Wayne. I wondered if we would all take a walk in that yard now.
“Lucas?” Wayne asked.
“Wayne?” They punched each other’s hands, but it wasn’t a fight. “Uh, Olivia, this is Wayne Getz. He and I went to high school together. Wayne, Olivia is my driver.”
“I’m his girlfriend,” Olivia said.
“Nice,” Wayne said, grinning. “Hey, Bella’s your dog? She’s awesome.”
I wagged.
“Thanks. Yeah, she’s a good dog.”
I wagged.
“So you work here?” Lucas asked.
Wayne shrugged. “I’m doing community service. I got caught shoplifting again.”
“Oh.”
Wayne laughed. “No, it’s okay. I’m giving up walking on the wild side, I promise.”
I was impatient to see Mom. I nuzzled Lucas’s hand.
“So what are you doing now?” Wayne asked Lucas.
“I work at the VA hospital. I am an assistant to a couple of case managers. Olivia works there, too—she yells at people.”
“Only at Lucas,” Olivia said.
“You were always going to go to med school,” Wayne said.
“That’s still the plan.” Lucas nodded. “Everything works out, I will start in the fall.”
Finally—finally—they stopped talking to each other and I got into Olivia’s car. I sat in the backseat and stuck my nose out the window.
I knew that I would never fully understand what had just transpired. I did not understand why I was put in the room with the crates and all the dogs, nor why Lucas waited for so long before finally coming to get me. I just knew that we were a family and that I would never leave home again.
* * *
We were back to getting up before the sun was light, taking a walk, and then going out again after dark. “It’s the only time we can be sure the dog catcher isn’t out,” Lucas told Mom.
“We’ll move out of Denver city limits,” Mom declared.
“Where? Aurora bans pits. Commerce City bans pits. Lone Tree bans pits,” Lucas said bitterly.
“I am sure there is someplace we can go.”
“Someplace we can afford? After we break our lease here? Where do we get the security deposit? How do we move our stuff?” Lucas demanded. “We don’t even have the money to buy a car!”
“Stop it! I won’t have you talking like this. The only time anyone is defeated is when they give up,” Mom said sternly. “Let’s start looking for an apartment now.”
That night when Lucas took me for a late-night walk, I could smell the truck with all the animal odors far behind us. Lucas did not turn around to see it, but I knew it was there.
Ten
The next morning when we went outside, there was wet snow on the ground and the sky was still dark. Lucas made a small chuckle. “Springtime in Denver, Bella.”
The lack of people and cars made for a peaceful, hushed environment. Smells were muted, and my paws were instantly soaking. It was wonderful. The foreboding in Lucas’s manner changed as he stood laughing at me rolling in the delightfully cold blanket. I was snorting and sneezing and wanted to play all day, but once I had done Do Your Business we turned around.
Mom was waiting at the door when we went up the steps to the porch. “Any sign of animal control?”
“No. They’re not going to be out this early,” Lucas told her. “And then tonight I’ll wait until late to take her out again.”
“Poor Bella. That’s such a long time to wait.”
“She’ll be okay. I don’t know what else we can do.”
“I’ll keep searching online for a new place.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Rents have gone up so much.” She sighed.
“Did you talk to your case manager?”
“Yes. It’s not hopeless, just time consuming. I can submit an appeal once we’ve actually located a place.”
“Time is the one thing we don’t have,” Lucas observed gravely.
“Don’t look like that. We’ll be fine.”
Lucas made a frustrated noise. “We’re never going to find a place where Bella’s allowed, that’s on the bus route, that we can afford, and that qualifies for your subsidy.”
“Don’t say never. I promise we will.”
Lucas stroked my head. “You be a good dog, Bella. I have to go to work now.”
Mom and I spent the day together. I was so content just to lie there, to not be in a room with barking dogs, to know that I was home and that Lucas would be back and would smell like Olivia. Outside, sun heated the air and my nose told me the snow had melted.
That night Lucas went outside without me, carrying cat food, and then returned. “No sign of the dog cops,” he told Mom. He hooked my leash and I danced around in excitement. I went to the door, whimpering to get out.
I could smell that my mother was in the den on the other side of the fence, and that Lucas had given her and the other cats some food.
I could smell something else, too. One street away, that truck was back, the one with the crates on the back. My happy mood vanished—was it coming back for me? I did not want to ride the truck and go back to that building. I looked up at Lucas.
“It’s okay, Bella. We’re safe.”
I heard the sound of the truck’s distinctive rumbling as it eased onto our street. The smells became much stronger, but Lucas apparently couldn’t sense them.
Lucas pulled gently on the leash. “Let’s go, Bella.” That truck was moving, coming closer. I did what Lucas wanted, moving ahead of him on the leash, and then suddenly he froze. The truck roared loudly and pulled in front of us and stopped. Hat-man jumped out.
“By the authority of the city of Denver I am seizing that animal,” he declared.
Lucas knelt by my side, fumbling with my collar. I tensed—time to do Go Home?
Hat-man raised a hand. “If you release that dog and I catch him off leash I will dart him.”
Lucas was afraid and angry. “No, you will not.” He took a step toward home.
“Don’t make this diffi
cult, kid,” the hat-man said softly. “I called for backup as soon as I saw you step out on the curb. Anything you try now will just make it worse.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I am enforcing the law.”
“We’re moving. Isn’t that what you want? What Gunter wants? We’ll move away and won’t be able to see him tear down the house where you said there were no cats. We just need time to find a place. Okay? You guys win. Just let us have a few days.”
“Can’t do it. You don’t think everyone says this? If we gave everybody with a pit bull extra days, we’d never pick any of them up. Place would be overrun.”
“Please.”
A car pulled up behind us. There were bright, flashing lights on its roof. Two people got out. They had dark suits and metal tools on their belts. Both were women. One was much taller than the other. Police.
“This is a pit bull. It’s been picked up before. The owner is resisting,” Hat-man greeted. “I need you to arrest him for failing to comply with a legal order.”
“That’s a pit bull? You sure?” one of the women, the tall one, asked.
Hat-man nodded. “Been certified by three ACOs.”
“Maybe,” the woman replied doubtfully.
“We don’t get involved in that decision,” the other woman said.
“It just doesn’t look like a pit bull to me,” the taller woman said.
“What you think doesn’t matter,” Hat-man said angrily.
Both women regarded him without expression. Then the taller one turned to Lucas. “What’s your name?”
“Lucas Ray.”
“Well Lucas, you do need to surrender the dog to animal control,” she told him kindly.
“But they want to kill her! It’s not fair. She just got out of the dog pound yesterday. That was one day ago,” Lucas replied. “We’re going to move out of Denver, we just need time.”
I yawned anxiously, feeling Lucas’s distress, Hat-man’s rage, and the tension in the two women.
“You couldn’t give him a few days to relocate?” the taller woman asked. “Seems like a reasonable request.”
“No. I am doing my job here. You need to arrest the kid for refusing to surrender the animal.”
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