Taking care of cats was something Lucas and I just did.
When I turned back the box was now floating on its side. Panicking, two more kittens had plunged out into the water. One of them was swimming strongly but the other had gone completely under. I powered forward and ducked my face, my mouth open, grabbing the tiny cat and hauling her to the surface. I swam to the side of the pool, the kitten hanging limply from my mouth, but she came alive when I placed her next to her mother. The little kitty mewed plaintively and Chloe carried her off to safety.
The tiniest member of the litter was barely able to keep her nose up, struggling feebly to survive. I grabbed her and took her to her mother, and then went after another one.
The box was now empty, but two little wet balls of fur had made it to the side of the pool and were anxiously bobbing along the edge, making barely audible peeping sounds, unable to climb out on their own. They fled from me as best they could when I went after them, but I tenderly snagged each in turn and lifted them up onto the cement, and they ran squalling to Chloe.
That was the last one. The kitties were wet, but safe. Chloe was tending to them. Dutch had gone back to looking glum.
I swam to the side of the pool, hooked my front paws on the cement, and struggled to lift myself. As I rose, my back arched, and my rear legs cycled uselessly beneath me, finding no purchase. Trembling, I held myself there for a moment, straining with all my might, water dripping down, and then I fell back.
I coursed back and forth, trying to get out, but it was no use—the side of the pool was too high. I made another effort, but simply could not haul my body out of the water. I was like the kittens, swimming around the edge of the pool, unable to save myself.
Time passed and I was getting tired, but I could not stop swimming because when I slowed, I could feel my body settling tail-first deeper into the water. Dutch was watching me, panting a little. I wondered if he could feel that I was becoming afraid. I swam and swam, back and forth, back and forth. I did not know what to do.
I swam to the box and tried to climb on top of it, but it just collapsed under me.
Chloe was under a tree, licking her kittens. Dutch lay by the side of the pool and let out an anxious, barely audible whine as he watched me. I swam and swam. My legs were aching. Water filled my nose and I sneezed.
If my Lucas was there he would come in and get me. He would put his arms around me and lift me out. He would take care of me. But Lucas wasn’t here. I had failed to Go Home and now I was having trouble keeping my face above the surface. My muscles were so, so weak now.
I felt like a bad dog.
Twenty-one
I was barely moving, water in my ears and flooding my nose, when I heard the sliding glass door open. “Dutch! What did you do?” Sylvia scolded. She came out and stood looking at Dutch with her hands on her hips, and he hung his head. She came down to where I was swimming.
“Bella? Why are you in the pool? Come out of there!”
I heard the word “come” so I tried one more time to climb out, my forelegs on the cement, but I quickly fell back, utterly exhausted. I looked up apologetically at Sylvia.
“Oh, sweetie, no, not there. Come here, come here,” Sylvia called, clapping her hands as she walked to the other end of the pool. I used what little strength I had to paddle in this new direction. She kicked off her shoes and stepped into the pool, sinking only to her ankles. “The steps are over here, Bella. You have to use the steps.”
I heard my name and wondered what it meant. My back end was sinking, pulling me down. Then my rear legs struck ground, my front paws following a moment later. I no longer had to swim to keep my head above water! “Okay, good girl, good dog.”
I was a good dog but my legs were shaking and I could not manage to climb any higher. My coat was heavy, raining a steady stream of water into the pool. I was barely strong enough to stay upright on what seemed to be underwater steps.
“What’s the matter, Bella? Are you sick?” Sylvia leaned down and looked at me and I beat the water with my tail a little. “Come on, now.”
I just wanted to stand there and recover, but Sylvia slapped her thighs and I obeyed. Forcing my reluctant legs into action, I heaved myself out of the water, shook, and lay down right there in the sun, feeling warmth from the cement. Sylvia went to untangle Dutch.
I knew that I would be asleep within moments, but before I could do so I felt a tiny touch, and then another. I lazily opened my eyes and there were the kittens, sniffing at me, their small noses bumping against my side. I was too fatigued to even wag my tail.
* * *
When the kittens were a little older, they left, departing one at a time. Sylvia would come into the yard and scoop up a kitty and we would never see it again. I could not tell how Chloe felt about the slow reduction in her family, though I did notice that with every parting she seemed more attentive to those offspring remaining.
I thought about Big Kitten, who probably did not know I was living with Sylvia and Dutch and Chloe’s cat family. What would she think of such small kitties? I wondered if Big Kitten missed me, which made me miss her.
Dutch seemed resolved to the same conclusion I had come to, which was that Gavin and Taylor were never coming back. I was fond of both men, but for me, their absences just made me ache for Lucas all the more—until I was able to do Go Home, the people in my life would keep changing, moving in and out as people do. For Dutch, though, his sadness left him without energy. When all the kittens were gone and it was just Chloe, traipsing past the dog within leash distance, Dutch’s eyes flickered but he didn’t even bother to get to his feet. He just wanted to lie still, day after day, under the table in the searing heat and then, as the air cooled, he would sprawl in a patch of sunlight a short distance away.
Other than the cats and the weather there were no changes. Sylvia never let us out of the gate, never threw a ball, but she fed us and talked to us and let us sleep wherever we wanted in the house at night. For whatever reason, Dutch did not want Sylvia to be his person, though he would wag when she had us do Sit for treats.
I was surprised when Dutch suddenly lurched to his feet, showing more energy than he had in many, many days. I watched him curiously as he went to the gate and sat; he had not done that in a long time.
I yawned and stood up, shaking myself off. His sudden change from drowsy dog to being so completely alert puzzled me.
Dutch whined. I went over to sniff him curiously, but he didn’t react to me; he was focused on the gate.
I sat and scratched my ear. That morning there had been steam rising from the pool, but otherwise, I could think of nothing different. Chloe spent most of her time sleeping under her chair in the living room and was there now.
Dutch started wagging his tail. I heard a car stop, a door open, and then came a voice at the same time I smelled the person. “Dutch! Bella!”
Gavin. Gavin had come back.
Gavin pushed open the gate and Dutch tackled him, whimpering, jumping up and licking him. “Whoa! Good boy! Down! I missed you, too!”
In that moment I understood that Gavin was Dutch’s person, just as Lucas was mine.
“Hey, Bella!”
I went to Gavin, wagging, and he stroked my fur, kissing me on the nose. “Oh, I missed you so, so much.” He straightened. “Hi, Mom.”
I was less surprised to hear Gavin mention Mom than I had been the first time. Sylvia had come out. She was smoking and had one of her sharp-smelling drinks in her hand. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Husband. Taylor’s my husband, Mom.”
“Sure.”
“Are you … what’s wrong?” Gavin went to kiss her and then stepped back. “Wow, Mom, it’s not even noon.”
“Don’t start. You have no idea what’s been going on. Mike stole my checkbook again and now I’m in trouble for NSF, like that’s reasonable.”
“Mike’s back?”
“God no, I told him I would get a restraining order again. I don’t
know how he got his hands on the checks. He might have taken them from my car because when I lost my keys I decided not to lock it anymore.”
“Okay.”
Dutch was sitting patiently at Gavin’s feet, ready for a car ride or a walk or a nap. I sniffed the air, smelling Taylor faintly, but I knew he wasn’t close by.
“You guys ready to go home?” Gavin asked us.
I whipped my head up and stared at Gavin. Go Home?
“First thing tomorrow,” Gavin said.
Sylvia went to sit down in a chair and it nearly toppled over. Gavin grabbed her arm.
“I’m okay!” she snapped.
“Yes, I know, sorry. Just trying to help,” Gavin said apologetically. There was a little sadness in his voice.
Sylvia sipped her drink. “You have to leave tomorrow?”
“Well, there’s just so much to do. We thought we had everything organized before we left—you know Taylor, he plans everything—but there’s a lot of stuff we need to tend to. How were the dogs?”
“It was nice to have them around. Scared Mike off,” Sylvia replied.
“Maybe you should get a dog,” Gavin observed.
Dutch and I glanced at each other at the word “dog.”
“I actually would prefer Bella. She doesn’t bark. Dutch keeps harassing Chloe.”
There was a long silence. “Mom? I’m not sure … you mean you would want to keep Bella?”
“Of the two, yes.”
“Oh. Huh. That never occurred to me,” Gavin replied.
* * *
That night Dutch and I slept with Gavin down the hallway from Sylvia’s room. Dutch kept nosing Gavin’s hand, wanting more strokes, while I curled up at his feet and drowsily listened to him talk to us with his phone pressed to his face.
“I hate it, too, but we do owe her,” he said. “And I would feel safer, knowing she had Bella here to protect her.”
I glanced up at my name. Gavin listened for a moment. “No,” he chuckled, “this isn’t a ploy, though it might give you something to look forward to when we do visit.” I put my head down. “I think they’ll both be okay, I really do. Bella is Bella—always content no matter where she is.”
I closed my eyes, ignoring the repetition of my name. Go Home. That’s all I could think of. I was tired of being here and just wanted to finally do Go Home. It was a pain, a hunger, and I took Gavin’s return as a sign I would soon be on my way to Lucas.
* * *
The next morning Gavin put things in his car and Dutch followed on his heels, sitting expectantly at the front door whenever he went outside. “Don’t worry, Dutch, you’re going home with me,” Gavin said soothingly, petting Dutch on the head.
Sylvia came out of her room, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “Snowing up in the mountains yet?”
“Not yet. Roads will be clear the whole way. Mom, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the dogs while we were gone. I really, really appreciate it.”
Sylvia looked at him for a long moment. “I’m not a great mother.”
“Oh, Mom…”
“I mean, I knew I wouldn’t be, and I never intended to have kids, I just kept getting pregnant. But I’m trying to, to do better. To be better at it. I regret … things.”
Gavin went over and gave Sylvia a hug. While he embraced her she lifted her cigarette to her mouth over his shoulder.
“I should have gone to your wedding, Gavin. I know I had to show up for the subpoena and blah blah but that was really just an excuse to get out of it. That was a mistake. We’re family, you and me and Taylor and sometimes your sister.”
“I know it was hard for you, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I didn’t understand about the gay thing but I’ve been watching television and realize what I was taught growing up isn’t right. You are my son and I’m proud of you.”
They hugged each other some more. She sucked on the cigarette and it flared and dumped more smoke into the air.
“So.” Gavin took in a deep breath. “What you said about Bella. I talked to Taylor, and he agrees it’s a good idea.”
“What is?”
“Bella.”
“Bella?”
I heard my name and wondered what it meant.
“She can stay here.”
“Stay here,” Sylvia repeated.
“Right. We hate to separate them, and we’ll miss her, but like I told you, Dutch and Bella just sort of showed up at the same moment—they were never together before that. They’re not a dog family.”
“What are you saying?” she asked blankly.
“Sorry?”
“You want Bella to stay here?”
I heard “Bella” and “stay” so I sat.
“Right. That’s what you want, right?”
“No. Of course not.” Sylvia blew smoke.
“Mom, you asked me yesterday if you could keep Bella.”
“I said no such thing. I said she was a good dog. Plays with Chloe. I have been stuck here for half a year because of these dogs. I’d like to travel, maybe go to Bloomfield.”
“Okay.”
“If you don’t want Bella you’re going to have to find a different home than mine.”
“No, we love Bella. I just … never mind. It’s okay.”
* * *
We did a car ride for a long time, but the best part was when we crested a hill and the smell came to me: home, the place where Lucas and I lived. Drifting on the air was the unique mix of scents that meant home, and now I had my bearings. I knew where I needed to go.
Taylor was happy to see us, and we were put on leashes and taken for the first walk in a long, long time. Dutch was ecstatic, marking everything in sight. “They both got so fat,” Taylor said disgustedly.
“We’ll put them on a diet soon, but let’s give them a chance to readjust. They probably are confused and miss Sylvia,” Gavin said.
“It’s hard to argue with something so completely deranged as that statement.” Taylor chuckled. “So, cabin this weekend? I’d love to get some hiking in before the snow hits.”
The next time we took a car ride my nose told me where we were going before we got there: the cabin. Dutch lifted his leg all along the dead plants in the backyard, insulted that his scents had faded, while I held my nose aloft and searched for Big Kitten. I could smell many animals, but not her.
“Want to go for a hike?” Taylor asked the next morning. I recognized the words but did not understand their meaning without Lucas. “Come on, Dutch.”
The men snapped leashes onto our collars and led us outdoors. For a time the path was familiar, but soon we turned uphill and were headed into an area where I had never been before. Dutch marked as often as they would let him—they usually tugged on his leash when he tried to stop to lift his leg.
“Are we okay here, do you think?” Gavin asked.
“Sure. I mean, if we run into a forest ranger we’ll have to pay a fine if they are off leash.”
“Have you ever seen a forest ranger? Except in your fantasies, I mean.”
“Funny.” Taylor knelt down and unsnapped my leash, stuffing it into the sack on his back. Gavin did the same with Dutch.
For a time, the sensation of going for a walk without a leash was so strange I stayed close to the two men, who were laughing and talking. Eventually, though, Dutch loped ahead, struck by a scent I didn’t detect. I trotted to keep up with him.
“Don’t go far!” Gavin called.
Free and running together, energy coursed through us and Dutch and I took off, galloping down the trail. I smelled a rabbit and wondered if Dutch had ever seen one. I remembered Big Kitten bringing rabbit meat. I remembered being on a long hilly trail like this one. I remembered Go Home.
I remembered Lucas.
Spurred on by each other’s energy, we raced ahead on the path, but we both halted abruptly when we heard Taylor.
“Dutch! Bella!” he yelled.
Dutch and I nosed each other, panting from our
sprint. He looked back toward where we could smell the two men, and then at me. I understood that he sensed something in me, a change in my intention, but he could not comprehend what.
I wagged my tail. I liked Dutch. He had been a member of my pack. He loved Gavin and Taylor and they loved him. But their home was not mine, and now it was time for me to move on.
When Taylor called again, Dutch took a long, lingering look at me and turned back the way we’d come. After a few steps, he stopped and gazed at me expectantly. I didn’t move. We both heard our names, this time in Gavin’s voice, and Dutch seemed to get it then. He stared, perhaps not believing I would forgo a wonderful life with the two men, or perhaps just realizing we might never see each other again.
But he couldn’t ignore Gavin. Regret and confusion in his eyes, he left me and went back to be with his family.
I continued on in the other direction.
Twenty-two
For a long time, I was aware of Dutch, his scent pursuing me as I followed the trail. I knew he would be happy with Gavin and Taylor—especially with Gavin, who was Dutch’s Lucas. If not for Dutch, I might not have been able to leave the two men, but I felt good, knowing they had a dog.
I had not been for such an extended walk since before we stayed with Sylvia, but this was all familiar—trekking down a path beaten into the ground by people and animals, covering the terrain as it rose and fell and went from rocky to wooded to grassy to dusty.
Much sooner than I would have expected, I was tired and thirsty, my leg muscles demanding rest. I found a protected place to lie down, yawning, feeling exhausted. Sleep didn’t come easily—I had forgotten all the animal smells that arrived on the night air, and a fox’s scream jolted me alert a few times. I wanted to think about Lucas, but my memory took me to Dutch and Gavin and Taylor, and Big Kitten and Chloe, and I missed all of them. I felt alone—very, very alone.
The weather was dry and crisp. The trail was doing me the favor of pointing directly at the scent of home, but I knew I needed water, and reluctantly veered away from the path and headed toward where my nose told me I would find a stream.
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