He was not my boss. I ignored him.
Other cages held animals whose scent I recognized—cats. I used to see and smell cats when I was living in the world with Splotch, and of course I remembered the one who had come to the place of plastic bags. There were tiny cats in some of the cages who looked at me with wide eyes and pretended they were ferocious by showing me their little teeth. They reminded me of the puppy I used to be, and I realized that they were young. Kittens.
Megan would walk with me to a yard where I could see the sky. And if that sky rained at me, I had somewhere to go where it couldn’t make me wet! That idea made me so happy, I barked at the sky to show it who was boss. Me!
Then I’d run and sniff hard at the bits of grass and packed-down dirt. Many other dogs used this yard, too, which meant I was busy smelling all the marks they’d left behind.
Megan watched me and laughed. “Oh, Shelby,” she said.
Megan said that word a lot. “Shelby, come here,” she’d say, and show me treats in her hand. I’d run to her. “Here’s your food, Shelby,” she’d tell me when she opened up the door to my pen. “Want a walk, Shelby?” she’d ask, and then she’d take me outside to the yard.
I got to like that word. It seemed to mean that something nice was about to happen.
Sometimes a man came along and talked to Megan. He said “Shelby” a lot, too. “Shelby’s looking so much better now that you’ve gotten her cleaned up,” he’d say to Megan. Or, “I bet Shelby won’t be here long. She’s a sweetheart. We’ll put a picture of her up on the website, and she’ll get adopted in no time. You know, we’ve never—”
“Put down an adoptable animal! Not once since you took charge of the county shelter!” Megan answered him, laughing. “I know, TJ! You know I know!”
They were standing together in the yard while they talked. There were some other dogs in the yard that day, too. Sometimes that happened. We’d sniff each other, and if everybody smelled friendly, there would be the same kind of games I’d had with my littermates—Chase-Me and It’s-My-Stick and Wrestle-With-Me-But-Don’t-Bite.
Today I was surprised to see that two of the dogs had wheels where their back legs should be! Dogs with wheels? I’d thought wheels were dangerous for dogs. I sniffed these new dogs all over so that I could understand.
They smelled like ordinary dogs—one male, one female, both older than I was—but they also smelled of metal and rubber. I realized that their back legs were actually sitting in little carts while their front legs touched the ground. It made me think of the truck ride I’d taken with Megan. It was like these dogs could take their own truck rides whenever they wanted to!
They could go pretty fast, too. We played Chase-Me a bit. But the dogs with wheels would take breaks from the game now and then to go over to TJ. They’d nuzzle his hands and look longingly up into his face until he crouched down to pet them.
I watched with interest. Then I tried it myself. I trotted over to Megan and looked up into her face.
Megan laughed and bent over to rub my ears with her fingers. Hah! It worked!
“I can’t believe how affectionate Shelby is, after she’d been a stray. Pretty healthy, too, considering,” Megan said to TJ. “All she really needed was feeding up.”
“How long do you think she’d been scavenging at that landfill?” TJ asked.
“Months? A year? Hard to know.”
Megan took me back to my pen. I noticed that the dogs with wheels did not go to a pen. They stayed with TJ.
I wondered why.
People who were not Megan or TJ came to my new home sometimes. I would lean up against the door of my pen to watch them.
The people would walk along the rows of pens until they came to a particular one, and then they’d open that pen. The dog inside would come out to greet them.
Some of the dogs came shyly, slowly. Some barreled out with tails wagging. There was always a lot of talking and laughing and barking, and I could tell that the dogs were getting happier by the minute.
Once a dog had greeted people like that, it no longer barked in that sad and lonely way. That dog was happy. I could see it and hear it and smell it. The dog would leave with the people, and I could see happiness in the dog’s wagging tail and the head held high.
Even the quiet black dog who lived next to me got to greet someone that way. One day, a man and a woman came to the door of his pen. Their hair was white, just as the dog’s muzzle was white. They seemed quiet, too. But when the black dog got up and shook himself and came sedately out of his pen to sniff their hands, his tail began to wag slowly.
They petted him and stroked him. They started to smile.
His tail wagged faster.
They all walked away down the row of pens. Nobody walked fast. But everyone was happy.
Greeting dogs made people happy. Greeting people made dogs happy.
I could understand that, a little. I was always happy when Megan brought me my food in the bowls.
But these new people did not bring any food with them at all—not that I could see. And the dogs seemed even happier to greet them than I was to greet Megan!
It was a puzzle, especially since the dogs always left and never came back. Why would they want to leave this wonderful place, where there was food and water and a place to stay dry and warm during the rain? Why would they want to be with any people but Megan?
I began to figure out the answer the day Megan came to my pen and took me out to the yard. TJ was there, but the dogs with wheels were not. In fact, I was the only dog getting outside time.
Some other people were talking with TJ. Two women. One man.
When they saw me, the man started talking very loudly.
“Wow. Wow. Amazing. Can you believe it, Cathryn? Look at her! What’s her name? Shelby?”
My ears perked up. When I heard “Shelby,” something nice usually happened next. Treat?
But nothing particular happened this time. Maybe this man didn’t know the rules. He just kept talking. “You were right. She looks exactly like the dog on the cover of the book. I mean, it could be a picture of her!”
The woman standing close to him, who had light-colored hair and kind eyes, laughed a little, too. “You’re right. What breed was the dog in the cover photo of A Dog’s Way Home, Bruce? Did you ever find out?”
“Part pit, part rottweiler, part nobody knows,” the man said. I figured out that his name was Bruce. “What’s Shelby’s breed? Do you guys know?”
TJ shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. Pit, we think. Megan says German shepherd, too. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some rottweiler in there, though.”
The man named Bruce crouched down and held out his hand to me. “Hey, girl. Hey, Shelby. Come here.”
I hesitated and looked up at Megan to check out whether this was okay. I was starting to believe that people were not as frightening as I’d once thought. And Bruce didn’t have a stick. Still, he was new to me.
“It’s okay, girl,” Megan told me. “Here, come with me.”
She walked me over to Bruce, and I sniffed his hand.
He smelled interesting, like other dogs and coffee and cream cheese. Megan sometimes smelled like cream cheese in the morning. It was a smell that I liked very much. I licked Bruce’s fingers.
The two women came over to meet me and pet me as well. The one called Cathryn said, “Shelby,” too, and she stroked my head. The second woman—her name was Teresa—watched closely. Then she put out her hand for me to sniff.
She smelled of other dogs and of dust and wind and sweat and time spent outdoors. I sniffed harder. There was a flowery lotion on her skin, too, and a whiff of something with sugar and cinnamon.
Next I checked out Teresa’s boots. They smelled strongly of other dogs, too, just not any I’d personally met. She was very, very interesting.
“Can she do it? What do you think?” Bruce asked Teresa as I sniffed the cuffs of her pants. He reached out to stroke my back while Teresa gently scratche
d behind my ears. “She looks perfect, but she’s never had any training, right?”
I had learned, since meeting Megan, that petting was excellent. But three new people petting me and talking over my head felt like a little too much, even if they did smell of cream cheese and cinnamon and other dogs. I retreated to Megan, who bent down to hug me and talk to me softly. I didn’t understand her words, but I leaned into her, content. I knew that her voice was telling me everything would be all right.
I believed her. But I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening. Had these three people—Bruce, Cathryn, and Teresa—come for me? Just as I’d seen people come for other dogs? I was happy to see them, but was I supposed to be very happy? Was I supposed to be wagging my tail and dancing with excitement?
I looked up at Megan, wishing she could tell me.
Teresa was studying me very carefully. I felt as if she wanted me to do something, but I didn’t know what.
“What do you think? Can she do it?” Bruce asked again.
Teresa put her hands in the pockets of her jacket. She nodded.
“Look at her,” she said, nodding at me and Megan. “There’s your answer right there. If Shelby can trust, if Shelby can love, then she can be trained.”
She put out her hand. “Shelby, come,” she said.
I knew that word—“Shelby.” It often had a treat connected with it. But I did not see a treat in Teresa’s hand.
I looked up at Megan for guidance. She smiled down at me.
“It’s okay, girl. Go on,” she told me. She nodded at Teresa.
I didn’t always understand the words that people used. But I could tell that Megan wanted me to know something about Teresa.
I thought I understood what it was. She was telling me that Teresa was a nice person. Like Megan herself. That Teresa was someone I could trust.
Some people are nice. Once I had not believed this, but I had learned. Not all people yell and wave sticks and try to hurt dogs. Some of them like dogs. Some even have treats in their pockets.
Bruce and Cathryn and especially Teresa were like that, I decided. They didn’t have sticks and they didn’t yell. They didn’t seem to have treats, either, but maybe that would change. People had ways I did not understand to fill up their pockets with treats. It was probably the best part of being a human person.
Teresa still had her hand out. She was waiting patiently. I walked over to her and sniffed at the hand. Then I sat down at her feet.
Everybody seemed very happy about this. Megan clapped her hands. “That’s a girl!” Bruce exclaimed.
Teresa smiled down at me. “This is going to work,” she said. “So, Shelby, are you ready to be a movie star?”
6
After that there was some talking. People really do like to talk, much more than dogs do. I’ve noticed that. Dogs only bark when they have something important to say, like, “Leave my stick alone!” or, “There’s a new person at the door!”
But people are different. Sometimes they say important things—like, “Treat!” or, “Walk!” or, “Shelby!,” but a lot of the time they just make noises that don’t mean anything at all.
Dogs just have to be patient with them.
Finally, Megan took me out of the yard and showed me a small pen that was in the back of a car. What an odd place for a pen! There was a soft blanket on the floor of the pen and Megan offered me a big treat shaped like a bone if I went in, so I did. She shut the door and I looked up at her sadly. I did not really mind being in a pen—big or small—but it was more fun to be where the people were than in here by myself, even with a treat.
“Oh, sweetie, I’ll miss you,” Megan said. She reached in through the bars of the pen and scratched my ears.
She sounded sad. When I was done with my treat, I’d have to get out of this pen and comfort her.
Then Megan shut the heavy door of the car. That surprised me. It surprised me even more when Teresa slid into the car, too, way up in a seat in front. Bruce and Cathryn and Megan looked in at me through the windows and waved their hands in the air, which made no sense at all.
The car made a growling noise and started moving.
Was this like the truck ride I had taken with Megan on the day I’d first met her? That truck had taken me to my new home, with the pens and all the other dogs and the roof to keep the rain away.
Where would this car take me?
* * *
At first the car did not seem to want to take me anywhere. We drove and drove and drove! Teresa stopped every now and then to take me out and let me pee in the grass by the roadside. She’d talk to me and scratch my ears and say, “Shelby,” a lot.
Then she’d put me back in the small pen and we’d drive some more.
But at last the car stopped, and Teresa took me out, and not just to pee. She left the car near lots of other cars and I followed her to a small room. There was carpet on the floor, and in its fibers I could smell that a lot of other people had been here before us. Some of them had dogs with them. I looked around with interest. New friends? But nobody was here now except Teresa and me.
There was a bed in the middle of the room. I ran to jump on it, and it bounced and wobbled under my feet. I looked over at Teresa and let out a single happy bark, trying to tell her I was glad to be here. I was glad to be out of the car. This place had a roof to keep off the rain and I’d be happy to stay here with her.
“Glad you like the hotel, Shelby,” Teresa said, smiling.
I liked the room even better when Teresa put down bowls of food and water for me. Bowls! I loved bowls. It was amazing how people could always find bowls and fill them up with food. It was one of the things I liked best about them.
Teresa and I spent that night on the bed. Teresa slept under the blankets and I slept on top of them. It was very nice. I hadn’t gotten to sleep next to someone since the day my sister was taken away.
Everything seemed fine. I could not understand it when, in the morning, Teresa took me back out to the car and put me in the small pen again.
What was going on? Wouldn’t it have been nicer to stay in the room with the bed? The car growled and started moving and I paced as well as I could in my pen. I sat. I stood up. I lay down. Nothing felt right.
Why on earth were we doing this? Why didn’t we just stay where we’d been? Or go back to the place with the pens and all the other dogs? Maybe the dogs with wheels would be there. If Teresa saw them, she might understand that dogs didn’t need cars to have rides.
I stood up and lay down again. I sighed. I even whimpered a few times.
“Oh, Shelby, not much longer now!” Teresa called back to me. “Don’t worry, sweetie; just two more days!”
I didn’t know what Teresa was trying to tell me, and I did not like the idea that this car might be my new home. I sighed again.
As it turned out, we stayed another night in a room with a bed. It was wonderful! But the next morning we left, so home was not that room. We were back in the car.
But soon I would find out that my new home was very different from the car, and from the rooms with the beds, and from the place with all the dogs. It was amazing how many different homes there were in the world!
At last, after much too long, the car stopped and Teresa got out, stretching. She opened up the back of the car and let me out, too.
I peed. Then I sat down gloomily and waited for Teresa to put me back in the pen.
But she didn’t. Instead, she clapped her hands to get my attention and led me to a gate in a tall, wooden fence.
“Some new friends back here for you to meet,” she said, and opened it up.
Whatever “new friends” were, I could already hear and smell them. They were barking excitedly and jumping up against the gate. Once Teresa opened the gate, I could see them.
“Bode! Luke!” Teresa called out. Two big dogs, muscular and strong, with brown faces and black bodies, hurried to jump up on Teresa. “No, Off,” she said firmly, pushing them back to the ground. “Thi
s is Shelby, boys. Say hi.”
I stood still, right at Teresa’s side, waving my tail gently, but not too much, lowering my head a bit because I could smell that these dogs lived here. I was in their territory. I wanted to show that I knew that.
The dogs whose names were not “new friends” but were Luke and Bode rushed over to touch noses with me and sniff under my tail. Then they raced away to run circles in the grass and ran back to do it all over again. My tail began to wag harder and harder. Bode’s tail, which swept in a circle up over his head, did just the same.
I’d met a lot of dogs in my old home, with Megan, and I’d learned that they were not all friendly. Luke and Bode were. They would not snarl or show teeth. They were happy to see me. They wanted to play!
There was a giant pool of sparkling blue water set into the ground with a long wooden table beside it. A third dog who’d been standing in the shallow end barked loudly. He was brown and black like Luke and Bode and me, but his fur was longer and his ears stood up in stiff triangles on his head. All three of us dashed over to say hello. Luke and Bode were as excited as if they were meeting this new dog for the first time, just as I was—though from the scents painted all over them I knew they had spent many, many days wrestling.
The pool dog leaped out and shook his fur so that water sprayed in all directions. I jumped back and danced in the sudden shower.
“Good boy, Hercules!” called Teresa, laughing. She shut the gate to the yard and came over to another door, a glass one that led into a house. “And now for the last member of the family. Here’s Angel!”
She opened the door and a tiny dog shot out, barking at the top of her very small lungs.
I had never seen a dog so small! At first I thought she might actually be one of the rats I used to meet in the place of the trucks and plastic bags, the ones with the skinny, naked tails. But that could not be. She smelled like dog—a female dog, like me.
She could not even reach up to sniff under my tail! When I bent down to sniff under hers, I accidently pushed too hard and knocked her nose-first onto the grass.
Shelby's Story Page 4