Gilbert’s father, Lorenzo, had objected at first. Mutt had listened as he complained to Silvia that he wanted his son with them at the table, not outside with a dog. Silvia’s answer came fast and in Spanish. Gilbert had smiled as he translated for Mutt.
“She says she’s glad I have a friend,” he told the dog. “She says it’s her fault that we have to come here to this farm that doesn’t have any children, because she couldn’t stand to have the family apart every summer with my father working here in Pennsylvania and my mother and me staying in Florida. She says she knows it’s lonely for me on the farm, being the only kid.”
Mutt understood. Feeling lonely was something else that she and Gilbert had in common.
The boy and dog peered inside the house as the talking continued that evening. When Silvia fell silent, they could see Lorenzo gazing out at them. A minute later he joined them on the grass, holding a plate in his hand.
“I brought you your dinner,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he gave the plate to Gilbert and tossed a slice of apple toward Mutt.
Gilbert put the plate down and threw his arms around Lorenzo, while Mutt jumped on both of them. Lorenzo laughed and wrapped his arms around both boy and dog.
After that, Mutt had no doubt that she was accepted as part of the family.
They even invited her inside their tiny house. It was more like a cabin, two rooms with the shower outside. But they had added cozy touches. Silvia covered the kitchen table with brightly patterned cloths, and the walls were decorated with family photographs.
One hot day Gilbert whispered to Mutt, “I’m going to show you my secret cave.” Mutt felt excited as she watched him look around to make sure no one was watching. Gilbert pressed his fingers to his lips, shushing Mutt as he led her to the back of the house. She watched him drop to all fours and crawl through the opening created by the gap between the house and the earth. Mutt followed his scent as her eyes tried to adjust to the dim light in this cool, shadowy place. The house didn’t have a basement, just a dirt foundation. Mutt instantly felt safe and happy there.
At first, Mutt only went to the secret cave with Gilbert. She loved to lie on the damp, soft earth while he told her stories. The temperature was always pleasant, no matter how hot it was outside.
As the summer wore on, she was drawn to the secret cave more often, whether Gilbert came along or not. For the first time in her life, the heat was making her feel sluggish. In fact, she was tired all the time. Yet she never missed a day of work, no matter how exhausted she felt.
Mutt didn’t like to complain, but one day she couldn’t help herself. She and Gilbert were hanging out together in their cave when she interrupted one of his stories with a loud groan.
Gilbert was alarmed. She had never made a noise like that before.
“What’s wrong, girl?” he asked.
Mutt tried to explain the mysterious weight she felt inside, how her belly always felt full even though she could barely eat some days. But all she could do was groan again, even louder than before.
“Wait here,” Gilbert said. “I’m going to get my father. He knows a lot about animals.”
The worry in Gilbert’s voice set off a ripple of fear in Mutt. But she had no choice but to wait while the boy scrambled out of their secret cave and then went inside the house above her. She heard his urgent voice overhead, floating down through the floor.
“Papa,” he said, “I think something’s wrong with Mutt. Her belly’s all swollen and she’s making funny noises. Is she sick?”
Hearing the word “sick” made Mutt even more afraid. What was happening to her?
Mutt listened to footsteps again, and then knees cracking as Lorenzo lowered himself onto all fours and began to make his way through the shadows. Gilbert followed right behind him.
“Whew,” said Lorenzo, wiping sweat from his forehead, when he reached Mutt.
She tried to lift her paw but she was too weak to be polite.
Lorenzo cleared his throat and patted her on the head.
“I see why you like it down here,” he said.
Mutt moaned in discomfort as she felt Lorenzo’s gentle hand on her stomach, pressing here and there.
She was surprised to hear him give a little laugh.
“Gilbert,” he said, “I think your friend is going to have puppies.”
Mutt’s surprise turned to shock. Was Lorenzo referring to her? What other friend could he be talking about?
Instead of feeling relieved that she wasn’t sick, Mutt was alarmed. Proud and strong as she was, Mutt thought of herself as a youngster, still learning the ways of the world. Now Lorenzo was saying that she, Mutt, was going to become a mother! There were puppies inside her who would expect her to explain things to them the way her mother had explained things to her. How could that be?
Her mind filled with images of her life before she came to Mr. Thomas’s farm, as she tried to determine how this moment had arrived. She saw the little girl she had loved as a puppy, and remembered how safe she felt, before she learned the world could be a dangerous place. She sighed, thinking about the father of the puppies. He was a brave dog, too, but he had to follow a different path, determined by the humans he lived with.
She groaned again, not from pain this time but from worry.
“I just won’t do it,” she said to herself. “I don’t know how to do it.” She closed her eyes and wished her mother were with her.
Gilbert interrupted her thoughts. “That’s amazing!” he said with delight as he hugged her.
Gilbert’s mother called from the opening to the outside.
“Lorenzo! Come on, now. We have to go to town.”
Lorenzo patted Mutt’s belly and put his hand on Gilbert’s shoulder.
“Vámonos,” he said. “You can see Mutt tonight.”
Gilbert looked worried. “Will she be okay?” he asked.
Lorenzo smiled. “You told me she’s a hero,” he said. “She’ll be okay.”
Mutt wished she could be as sure as he seemed to be.
chapter four
MUTT’S PUPPIES
After Lorenzo and Gilbert left, Mutt lay in the dark trying to comprehend Lorenzo’s words. She knew what puppies were and that apparently she was going to have some. But she had no idea what it would mean to be a mother.
Mutt couldn’t remember exactly what or how her mother had taught her; they were separated when Mutt was young. But often when she felt lost or uncertain, she heard a voice in her head that was strong and sure, yet tender—her mother’s voice. Now Mutt wondered: Would she be able to protect her puppies? Who would show her the way?
These thoughts drifted through her mind over the next few weeks, as her body got heavier and her movements got slower. No matter how awful she felt, she kept her word to Mr. Thomas. Every day, no matter how much she wanted to lie still in Gilbert’s secret cave, she patrolled the farm.
One morning, however, she went directly to the crawl space beneath the house. For hours she lay there in the dark, whimpering in pain. She didn’t bark, as she usually did, when she heard Gilbert’s voice at the end of the day, calling, “Where is Mutt?”
She heard her friend as he ran around the house, repeating her name over and over, but she didn’t have the strength to respond. Her entire being was focused on the powerful movements she felt inside of her.
By the time Gilbert scrambled beneath the house to her, Mutt’s breathing was coming in short, fast spurts as she paced back and forth, trying to relieve the pressure in her belly. Gilbert reached out his hand to pet her, but Mutt growled at him, the only way she could think of to make him understand that she needed to be alone, that she couldn’t focus on anything but the agony she was in.
Mutt lay in the dirt and listened to Gilbert’s voice shaking as he made his way back outside and called, “Mama! Papa!”
She heard Silvia ask, “What’s going on?” And she heard Gilbert describe what he’d seen and heard and then blurt out, “I think Mutt is dying!”
Mutt hurt so badly she almost wished it were true. Then she heard Lorenzo speak.
“Mutt isn’t dying,” he said to Gilbert. “I think those puppies are ready to come out.”
Mutt shuddered in pain as Gilbert cried out, “Can’t we do anything to help?!” Mutt strained to listen to what Silvia had to say. She was female like Mutt, and had given birth.
“Mutt is strong,” Silvia said. “She’s probably scared, but she’s in a nice dark place where she can feel safe. Her body knows what to do. Now we just have to wait.”
While the humans waited, Mutt directed her courage and determination to the bewildering task of pushing the puppies out of her. It was a noisy and painful business, but finally a tiny being emerged, wet and helpless. Without thinking, Mutt bit the cord connecting her to the puppy and began to lick the wriggling creature clean.
That’s when it hit her. She was a mother and this was her baby.
There was no time for sentimentality, however. Her belly was still full of puppies. For the next several hours, she waited until it was time to push another one out. Somehow she knew what she had to do. One by one, these strange little creatures emerged until there were four of them, three females and one male. One by one, Mutt greeted them by biting the cord that connected them and licking them clean. Only then did she rest, her new family nestled against her.
Shortly after dawn, she was wakened by weird high-pitched noises. Could there be bats in their cave, even though it wasn’t really a cave? Had the fisher cat returned? Tired as she was, Mutt’s body came alive, ready to strike back if someone attacked.
Then she realized the sounds were coming from the puppies. Her puppies. She relaxed and gave them each an affectionate lick. To the outsider, they might seem like shivering, screaming blobs of fur, aliens huddling together for warmth, not yet able to see or hear. But to their mother, they were miniature Mutts in the making,
Mutt glanced at the tiny bodies next to her, satisfied with her night’s work. Then she sighed and fell back to sleep, already unable to remember what it was like when the puppies weren’t there.
chapter five
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
While human babies could take a year or more to learn how to stand, Mutt’s puppies were up on their wobbly little legs before a month had gone by. Soon they were running around, crashing into one another gleefully, and then getting up to run some more.
They thought Gilbert was one of them. With their new teeth, they grabbed the scraps of cloth he brought them, wrestling one another for control of the tiniest piece. When the boy sang his song about the moon eating olives, the puppies joined in with their high-pitched yaps while Mutt watched.
One evening Gilbert tried a new game with the puppies. He threw himself on the ground and rolled down the small hill by his house, while the puppies raced to keep up. The boy tumbled faster and faster—until he was stopped by a large work boot. It was attached to Mr. Thomas.
The puppies kept on playing—all except for one, the smallest of the bunch, one of the females.
This puppy was a worrier. She watched intently as Gilbert sat on the ground, wiping blades of grass off his shirt.
“Hello, Mr. Thomas,” Gilbert muttered.
Mr. Thomas reached out his hand to help Gilbert to his feet.
“I hear you’ve been a big help to Mutt with her pups,” the man said. Though the man was much bigger than Gilbert, his voice was soft.
Gilbert simply nodded.
The curious little puppy kept listening.
“How old are they now?” Mr. Thomas asked.
Gilbert finally spoke. “About six weeks,” he said. Adding: “Sir.”
“How many are there?” Mr. Thomas asked.
Looking down at his sneakers, Gilbert responded. “Four,” he said.
He added, “It’s a small litter for a big dog, but that’s not strange for the first time.”
Mr. Thomas smiled. “How do you know so much?” he asked.
Gilbert looked up. “My father told me.”
Then Mr. Thomas asked a question that made the puppy’s ears perk up.
“You named them yet?” he asked.
Gilbert was flustered. “Yes, no, sort of,” he stammered.
Mr. Thomas grunted. “Well, which is it, yes, no, or maybe?”
Gilbert shrugged.
“I wanted to tell you I’ve noticed what a good friend you’ve been to Mutt,” the farmer said in a quiet voice. “And to her puppies,” he added.
Gilbert’s face brightened. “Thanks,” he said.
Mr. Thomas nodded and then stretched his arms behind his back. “Whew,” he said, “I’m creaking a little.”
Gilbert said politely, “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Thomas stared down at the boy with a wistful smile. “How old are you now?” he asked.
Gilbert looked startled. “Ten,” he said.
“You in school?” Mr. Thomas asked, as though they were meeting for the first time.
Gilbert nodded.
“That’s good,” Mr. Thomas said. “Very good. Your father is a good man.”
He and Gilbert stood in uncomfortable silence.
“Do you want to talk to my parents?” Gilbert asked.
Mr. Thomas pulled his cap off and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the one I wanted to talk to. To say thank you. That’s done now.”
Then the man smiled and waved awkwardly as he walked away.
When he left, Gilbert knelt next to the puppy, who hadn’t moved.
“Until today, Mr. Thomas hasn’t said more than three words to me,” the boy said. “Weird, huh?”
The puppy agreed and let Gilbert know by butting his hand with her head. The other puppies took this as a signal to tumble. Soon they were all bouncing off Gilbert as if the boy were a trampoline. When they were tired out, they collapsed next to him.
They listened as he began to talk.
“I think it’s time for you to have names,” he said in a formal voice. “My name in Spanish means ‘bright promise.’ Every year on my birthday my mother tells me how I got my name. She says, ‘Your father and I thought we would never have a child. We tried and tried but nothing happened . . . until you. You are our child of destiny.’”
The littlest puppy sighed. “That’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Her brother, the biggest of the bunch, teased her. “Is that what you think you are?” he asked. “A child of destiny?”
Before she could reply, Gilbert picked up the male puppy and stared at him.
“Let’s see,” he said. “What is unique about you?”
Gilbert looked very serious as he held the chubby brown puppy up in the air.
“The others always follow you, big fellow,” he said. “I’m going to call you Jefe, Chief, because I can see you are going to be very strong.”
When Gilbert placed Chief gently on the ground, his little sister saw the pride in his eyes. She was excited, wondering what Gilbert would say about her.
But she would have to wait. One of her bigger sisters ran up to Gilbert and nuzzled his foot.
She was beige with dark fur around her eyes and was always ready to play.
Gilbert didn’t hesitate.
“You are definitely Alegre,” he said. “That’s Spanish for ‘happy.’”
The little puppy started to walk toward the boy and was knocked aside by her other sister, who looked just like Alegre. Annoyed, the little puppy watched this sister nuzzle Gilbert’s other foot.
She was even more annoyed when the boy laughed!
“Okay,” he said. “I’m just going to call you
Happy. That way, if I mix the two of you up, it won’t matter. Your names mean the same thing!”
Only the littlest puppy was left. Her heart skipped when he finally turned to her.
Gilbert knelt next to her and said something that surprised her, but made her happy.
“You look the most like Mutt,” the boy said in a gentle voice. “I’ve watched you, little one, always right next to your mama. I think you aren’t just the smallest, you are the shyest.”
The puppy’s ears perked up. He understood her!
She tried to tell him how glad she was, but he didn’t seem to understand what she was saying.
“Are you singing?” Gilbert asked.
He pulled her to his chest and rubbed his finger on her tiny head.
“Look!” he said. “You have the same mark as Mutt!
“Of course,” said Gilbert softly, holding the puppy close to him. “You are Luna, the child of the moon.”
He began to sing the song about the moon and the olives.
Luna wiggled in his hands.
Gilbert laughed.
“You must love that song,” he said. “You are dancing to the music.”
Luna giggled. She wasn’t dancing, exactly. She had to pee—and she did, all over Gilbert’s hands.
“Luna!” he exclaimed. “That’s why you were wiggling? Gross! Is that how you thank me for giving you such a beautiful name?”
Luna scampered over to her mother, who had been there all the time, watching. Mutt bent her head to nuzzle her little one.
Gilbert leaned down and rubbed his hands in the grass. When they were dry, he knelt by Mutt and scratched her head.
Then he lifted Luna again and began to move her back and forth through the air. The puppy waved her paws in excitement as the air swept across her fur. She felt free and unafraid, as if she could do anything, go anywhere.
When he put her back on the ground, Luna kept moving, one paw after the other.
“Hey Luna,” Gilbert said. “Look at you, dancing on your own! You can dance all the way to the moon.”
Mutt's Promise Page 2