Someone to Look Up To

by Jean Gill

  ‘Both of us.’

  ‘It can only be one name on the paperwork, I’m afraid. As I always say to couples, but then that’s married couples, so it’s not the same is it... ah, here they are.’ As if the New Females hadn’t noticed five puppies the size of small bears gambolling around them.

  This was the first time I had seen a Human really wanting to know what the other Human thought and wanted. It was quite an eye-opener. Until then, I’d thought that inter-Human speech was mostly about saying what you wanted, or hiding what you thought while still getting someone else to do what you wanted, which came down to much the same thing by different methods. I now had to consider the possibility that Humans might be capable of generosity and unselfishness. It didn’t seem likely.

  We were all awake and as cute as can be that day, even Stratos, so we didn’t make it easy, and there the Humans were, second-guessing each other with little testing comments. ‘He has lovely eyes, don’t you think?’

  ‘But look at that patch of brown round his eyes and the freckles, on that one...’

  ‘Blaireau,’ our Human gave the technical term for badger-coloured patches on us patous. ‘And red patches are ‘arrouye’, rusty, but I haven’t got any arrouyes this time. You don’t see so many nowadays, more’s the pity.’

  ‘I always thought they were all pure white?’

  ‘No, in fact if you try to breed pure white only you’ll get into problems with pink noses and, even worse, deaf dogs. There’s a genetic link between deafness and lack of pigmentation. And when you know the breed, you get to like the markings as much as the pure white... I don’t know why, it just seems to happen.’

  ‘It’s different, isn’t it, all that ... blaireau patching round the eyes, like a mask...’

  ‘Like Zorro,’ the other said, ‘and I like the idea of being different.’ They shared a look and our Human looked pointedly in another direction. And so Sancho became Zorro, flying off to his family in another pair of Human arms. ‘May the wolves fear your door,’ I woofed. ‘Good hunting, little brother.’

  Our Human’s announcement, ‘Stella’s flying tomorrow,’ gave us a whole day to persecute Stella and boy, did we make the most of it. She had clean tendencies, did Stella so it was pretty straightforward to wind her up; any combination of water and muck usually did the trick and Stratos and I were experts. So when the next batch of New Humans showed up, our Human was not best pleased to find her pure white girl lightly caked in dubious brown substance and if the Humans had any sense of smell at all, they’d have worked out what it was quickly enough.

  A sharp intake of breath, followed by, ‘I’ve never known her get as filthy as the last day. I swear I’ve cleaned her up four times and look at you again!’ There was a slight hiatus in the usual look, choose, cuddle proceedings while our Human sponged down Stella, dried her and sprayed her with some revolting scent that Mother said was one of our Human’s show techniques. ‘There, that’s more like it.’ Stella shook her whole body from her ears downwards, fluffing her coat out prettily, knowing full well that the choosing had already been done (although I’d pointed out to her that people sometimes changed their minds – Uncle Diego had told me – and she’d whined with her head in her paws for ages before telling me she didn’t believe me and batting me with a paw).

  ‘And you’re going straight to the airport?’

  ‘Fraid so. We’ve had a few days in Paris – couldn’t hop over to France without doing the Champs-Elysées,’ New Human looked at his Female – ‘but a few days is probably all that my credit card can cope with.’ Everyone smiled.

  ‘Don’t you listen to him,’ the Female put a hand on his arm. ‘He’s just a sweetie and I can’t stop him buying me presents.’ Ah. The sweetie word again. But this time it seemed at home on the lips it came from and I suppose you get used to it. Working out what it all actually means is the hard bit.

  ‘Toulouse to Charles de Gaulles, then on home to Miami. But don’t you worry about our little girl, she’ll be just fine, and you know what? For the long haul from Paris to the States, you’re going to go first class, up front with us, honey, where you can look through the little window and see the clouds from on top.’ Stella was just lapping up every word, so absorbed she didn’t notice Stratos sicking up the remains of a large beetle. In fact, you would only have known it had been a beetle, if you’d noticed Stratos chewing on it earlier. And if you’d known that one of Stratos’ talents was to throw up whenever he felt like it. So with the prospect of Stella’s new family coming, a bright puppy might have watched Stratos chewing on a beetle and put two and two together. Stella might not have taken any notice but Stratos made the usual noises suggesting imminent death from choking, followed by some colourful output, and certainly attracted attention from the Humans.

  ‘No, no, don’t you worry about him,’ our Human’s voice had gone up yet another octave. ‘It’s just a bit of chewed grass he’s brought up.’ Nobody, not even a Human, could look at what Stratos had produced and believe it to be a bit of chewed grass. Stratos was disgusted. What a waste of his artistry. They’d hardly looked at it. And he’d been hoping to provoke at least a moment’s worry about Deadly Dog Diseases. But no. Our Human was rattling off again. ‘Yes, checked by the vet yesterday and all perfect.’ No justice in this world. Stratos was already turning away, losing interest, when the New Female reached into her pocket. ‘I brought this specially for you, honey. Would I go shopping and forget our little girl?’ If you had seen Stella’s face as it was surrounded by a broad red ribbon, tied in the biggest bow you’ve ever seen! Actually, none of us, including our Human (to judge by her expression) had ever before seen a patou wrapped up like a box of chocolates. And Stella’s face was a real picture, not the kind that you’d find on that same box, either!

  ‘That should scare off the wolves, Stell,’ Stratos barked at her.

  ‘Scares the hell out of me,’ I added.

  As I told you, Stella was all bitch and what she answered back put the ‘- Off ‘ in ‘Wo-off!’

  But she was our sister all the same and whatever flying meant, it certainly included going far away, so when I saw the last glimpse of twin brown pools of hate (aimed at the red ribbon, I prefer to think), I woofed, ‘Wow them Stella, good hunting little sister.’ And then there were two because you couldn’t count Snow. She was Staying.

  You couldn’t think about Choosing and adventures all the time so I gave my professional attention to Stratos’ pile of sick before we both ate it. Waste not, want not.

  High-sun to high-sun is a long long time to a puppy and we weren’t thinking of anything other than playing swat and pounce when our Human turned up with four visitors. She was red and blotchy round her neck and her mouth was pursed tight.

  ‘This is really not the way I like to do things but I suppose, seeing as you’re all here together...’

  Younger Female spoke. ‘I’m sorry. We were so keen, we got here a bit earlier than we arranged... we didn’t mean to put you out.’

  The tight little mouth relaxed a fraction. ‘Well, as long as you understand that Monsieur and Madame Larime must be allowed to choose first... it’s really not at all ideal... I should have made you wait...’

  ‘That will be fine,’ younger Male contributed, looking me straight in the eyes and then switching to Stratos. ‘I wouldn’t be able to choose anyway – they both look superb.’

  Our Human preened and bridled. ‘In a good litter, there’s no runt you know – and this litter isn’t just good, it’s exceptional. Hardly surprising of course, given the parents...’

  ‘Oh Marc, just look at them,’ said his Female, taking his arm, her eyes shining. ‘They’re gorgeous.’ I like to remember that she said that, ‘Gorgeous,’ and that her eyes were shining. Some memories keep you warm even when you’re frozen inside.

  The Female with the glittery collar was already stroking Stratos, who’d gone into the full ‘cute puppy routine’, waggling his tail and back end so hard it looked as if it ha
d come apart from the front. Then it was my turn but I still felt unsure. Perhaps I’d just wait and see. But if cuddles were on offer, I wasn’t missing out so I took my share of ‘What a cutie-pie’ comments with good grace, despite getting a nip inside my thigh from Stratos, who promptly covered up with a neat flick of tongue.

  ‘Oh look! His brother’s washing him. How sweet! Isn’t he lively!’

  ‘Yes,’ said our Human, ‘Stratos is certainly lively. He’ll need a firm hand, that one, an iron fist in a velvet glove’

  Older Male, who was also wearing a collar, some kind of fabric, and stiff clothes that made him sweat in the sun, lifted Stratos high in the air. He looked funny and helpless pedalling his four fat little legs in the air and he cuffed me when he was back on the ground, just to make sure I didn’t comment. ‘Don’t you worry about that.’ No boomer, this one. A low, calm voice, used to being taken seriously. ‘We’re used to dogs, never any problems at all. The important thing is that they know who’s boss and believe me, we don’t have a problem with that.’ He stroked Stratos gently under his chin and that was that. The minute it was clear that Stratos had been Chosen, MY Humans rushed to me and it was clear my waiting and thinking was over, so I just went with the flow and licked every single pore of Human skin I was allowed close to, while Marc encouraged me and his Female giggled because I was tickling her.

  Then Stratos and I were both flying in Human arms, with Snow’s goodbye wuff in our ears, and we entered The House for the Completion of Paperwork, two sets. Perhaps it’s because of what came later but one bit of the very boring conversation does stay in my mind.

  ‘I might as well say this to all of you at the same time,’ our Human began, ‘but only one person can be named as the legal owner of the dog, and if you split up as a couple, then it’s the person whose name is on this document who owns the dog. Of course it’s not going to happen to you,’ she laughed and looked at both couples, and everyone laughed with her at the very idea of divorce, ‘but it’s better that I make it clear.’ There was some light-hearted banter between the two in each couple before finally the Male Humans signed the forms. I hardly had time to wuff, ‘Good hunting, little brother’ before I was sitting on a fleecy blanket, on Christine’s lap, with the car’s engine reverberating up into my tummy, and a warm human body lulling me.

  Marc was my in-writing master and I had a new family. Mother, Snow, Stratos and the others were unimaginable running and time beyond thought away from me. The mountain peaks flashed past and made me dizzy so I shut my eyes. Goodbye my mountains. What was it all going to mean? I would have to think about it later, when I woke up...

  Chapter 4.

  ‘This is your new home, Sirius!’ It was Marc who carried me inside and put me down gently on a tiled floor where I performed a sleepy pup’s waking duty.

  ‘Marc,’ shrieked Christine, ‘Take him outside quickly! Oh no! It’s too late...’ I ran under a chair to hide from the noise.

  ‘See,’ said Marc, with a smile in his voice, ‘he knows he’s done wrong. I bet it won’t take long at all before he’s house-trained.’

  ‘I’ll clean up – you keep an eye on him.’ Once I was coaxed out from under the chair, I followed Marc everywhere. New Home was complicated, a vast nose- overload and it wasn’t long before I was asleep again, curled up in the warmth of Christine’s lap.

  ‘He is cute,’ she murmured over my head, in a tone I much preferred to the earlier shrieking.

  ‘Yes,’ Marc was sitting right up against Christine on the sofa, where he could reach out and stroke my ear or her hand. ‘Just remember what his Breeder said though. He might be twelve kilogrammes now but in ten months time he’ll be about fifty, so don’t start off habits that will make life difficult.’

  ‘Hmmm, just for a bit though...’ I snuggled up firmly while she carried on musing. ‘What was all that stuff about iron fists in velvet gloves?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps we’ll get a book about dogs.’

  ‘Mmmm, or go to dog training classes. When would he be old enough for that?’

  ‘Not till at least six months, I was told, Older, for a big dog like ours. But I’m sure we can do little things ourselves before then...’

  ‘Like ‘Give me a paw!’ That would be so cute...’

  Just remembering that first evening, the three of us a real family, warm as a puppy-pile on the sofa, gives me the same feeling I get with a full stomach or in deep snow. I didn’t even miss the pack, my mother and the other pups, because I had a pack of my own, for keeps, and it was in writing. I had quite settled down for the night, was probably snoring, when I was rudely woken with the words, ‘Time for bed, little one’. Bed?

  Then I was flown through the air and landed, gently, on a big cushion, beside a cuddly rabbit, in a huge empty space swept by a draught direct from the frozen north. And, horror of horrors, even though I waddled to get back to my pack, a door was shut on me, separating me from warmth, from family, from love. You can imagine how attractive I found a cuddly rabbit, of whatever colour. I tried to be a brave boy like Mother had told me, I really did. I sang Béarnaise folk songs for a while but they reminded me of twilight singing with Mother and made me sad so the songs kept turning into laments. I sang louder and was cheered up by My Humans shouting from their sleeping quarters. At least it was clear what they wanted! So they want me to sing louder, I thought, and I did. And they shouted louder and it was much more companionable than silence alone with a cuddly rabbit. But then they stopped shouting and I got bored singing on my own.

  I loved My Humans. I wanted to be with them. They were probably missing me and wondering why I wasn’t with them. This thought bothered me so much that I couldn’t get comfortable anywhere. Anywhere I tried to sleep seemed so exposed, impossible to defend, and as empty as a barn with one puppy in it. Obviously, I wasn’t stupid enough to sleep in a draught but I thought the cushion might be useful all the same. I needed something to chew and that would do for starters. Once I’d sucked a corner really really moist, I sank my teeth in and did double-time chewing, the sort that had really ended a fine relationship with our mother’s teats. Within seconds, I’d got into the real meat of the cushion, soft yellow honeycombed stuff that was bouncy against your teeth and just melted in your mouth if you chewed and swallowed a bit. The greatest pleasure was in just ripping the stuffing to shreds and it was so soft, I could use my claws as well as my teeth. I’d soon decorated my sleeping-room with shreds of yellow foam. And then I was bored and lonely.

  I loved My Humans. I wanted to be with them. They were probably missing me and wondering why I wasn’t with them. A Soum de Gaia is resourceful. I would tell them that I was shut away from them and needed help to join them. I had communicated with them already by singing but they hadn’t quite got the message. I needed to try something else. The only thing that stood between me and the warmth of Christine’s lap was the door. So I would try to get through the door and make lots of noise so they would know I needed help to succeed. If I managed to get through the door on my own, so much the better and they would be so proud of me. Teeth were no use on the door as they couldn’t get a purchase on the smooth surface and I couldn’t reach the handle. So claws it was.

  I stood on my hind legs and scrabbled like mad at the door, scraping my claws down it to see if I could get it to open. I whined to tell My Humans I needed help. After what seemed to be a very long time, they shouted some encouragement to me and I doubled my efforts on both the whining and the scrabbling. Eventually, just when I was about to give up, my little paws aching from such hard work, I heard Human movement and I only just stepped back before the door opened. It had worked! Marc was there! He wasn’t very pleased. Perhaps he’d expected me to open the door without his help but I was only eight weeks old. I would just try harder another time and see if I could please him.

  ‘Oh God, no,’ Marc said, surveying my sleeping room. ‘I’ll sort it in the morning.’ He was clearly realising that this was not the
right place for me to spend the night. He had understood me. And even better, he flew me through the air again right onto the carpet beside the bed he shared with Christine. ‘Just for tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Well I can’t take any more tonight, that’s for sure, and as for what the neighbours think!’

  ‘Night, night, Izzie. Go to sleep, for God’s sake!’ Marc’s hand dropped down beside the bed onto my head and caressed me. I curled up on a slipper close to the deep dark of under-bed and chewed myself to sleep.

  And so began my attempt to understand and communicate with My Humans. I had some successes. I’d been told I was too big to get on the couch. They were mistaken and I showed them that in fact I could get onto the couch more and more easily. They pushed me off. I got back on. They pushed me off and said ‘No.’ I got back on. And so I taught them how to play ‘push and jump’. They pushed me off the couch and I jumped back on. This was pretty good as games go and made me realise that Humans could be taught. You just needed a bit of determination. And if they got it right even once, then you knew that perseverance would get you there.

  An example of this was when I taught them to open the door for me. After my success with one door, I tried others. I’d be outside in the garden when they were in the house and I’d want to come in, perhaps because I needed a pee for instance. So I’d scratch at the door and whine. At first Marc didn’t get it. He said, ‘I don’t want him scratching and whining to come in so just leave him there.’ I just persevered, knowing one of them would get it eventually. It was Christine who let me in the first time. And from then on, I knew that if I kept it up, someone would let me in. Sometimes, I had to keep trying for ages. Marc said, ‘This is getting worse. We’ve got to stop letting him in when he does that.’ And I had to really treble my efforts to get through to them. I was even left outside a few times until they decided I could come in! No way was I having that and I just put in the extra work needed until Christine was smart enough to let me in, and then it just got easier and easier. ‘If we’re going to let him in anyway, we might as well do it before he destroys the whole door,’ she told Marc.