by Mark Tufo
“You must, Dog, the scent will throw the dead ones away from here and from them.” She motioned with her head.
“They are scent-driven? How do you know this? The humans can’t smell anything with that little nose.”
“Be that as it may,” Patches started, “but those things out there are not human and I’ve watched them sniff the wind to find a scent.”
“I do not know if I believe you, but even if I did and I thought I would not get into trouble by relieving myself here, I cannot. Pack leader took me out earlier and I took care of business then. Why don’t you do it?” I asked her. She looked at me like I had asked her to mate with a chipmunk.
“Me?” she fairly spat. “I go in the same bathroom as the pack leaders!” she huffed.
“Please!” I answered. “You go in a dirt box and then try to cover it up, thinking no one else will know. Let me tell you, your pee burns my nose.”
“It does no such thing!” she said peevishly.
“Patches, Riley, be quiet,” Jessie whispered, looking through the window. “They’re coming.”
“Now or never, oh dainty one,” I told Patches. I nudged Jessie to get away from the outside viewer, or window, that was what the two-leggers called it. I wasn’t sure if the cat was completely right about the scent thing or not, but standing in front of the glass was still not a good idea. Jessie slowly backed up to the big-wheeled machine.
She seemed to get an idea as she opened the door to what the humans called a Hummer. All I knew was I loved to be inside of it. The wind as it blew past my face was exhilarating, so many scents so quickly it was impossible to define them all, but yet I tried. Happy times, I smiled as I thought to myself. I watched as Jessie strapped the cub into his special seat, he had fallen back asleep after the fire stick battle and had stayed that way. Lucky for him, the dog gods were looking out for all of us.
“Shit, keys,” Jessie said softly.
“The janglers!” I barked softly. Pack leader would always shake them in front of me when it was my turn to go for a ride.
The acidic smell of cat piss hit me just as Patches rounded the front of the large riding machine, her tail swishing triumphantly high in the air.
“You did that on purpose,” I told her.
“Of course I did,” she answered, not trying to hide anything.
“It’s awful, it’s burning my throat.”
Patches made sure her tail rubbed up against my nose as she passed by. I sneezed loudly.
“Riley, be quiet!” Jessie said sternly. Patches openly laughed. “I need to think. Dad told me once he had hidden keys for this thing. But he never let me drive it so I didn’t bother to try to remember.”
“What’s she talking about, Riley?” Patches asked.
“The janglers, Cat. Don’t you know anything?” But how would she? As far as I knew Patches never got to go for rides and now I felt something I’d never felt for the cat: guilt. “It’s the things that make the machine come to life,” I told her. “Kind of like giving you catnip.”
Patches got a faraway look in her eyes, remembering the mind-altering spice.
“Cats,” I said contemptuously, walking away. I was pretty sure I knew where Alpha kept an extra jangler. He was always leaving the big bunch of them inside the car, why he didn’t just open the door and get them I’ll never know. We were at the dog park once and had to wait for a very long time while another human came and had to open the door for my pack leader. Alpha was pretty mad about it. I was pretty happy, I got to run around the park with the other dogs for a lot longer than I usually got to. After that, though, he had put a single jangler on the outside of the wheeled machine.
“Where’d he put it?” I thought out loud, but softly. I walked around the machine. Pack leader’s scent was strong where the door opened and by where the liquid went that smelled worse than Patches’ pee, but those weren’t the right spots. I came around to the back of the wheeler and got another strong scent of him by the door handle and again by the piece about level with my nose. I whined softly until Jessie came over to see what the matter was. I pawed the location where the lone jangler was hidden. Jessie just stared at me.
“They’re coming,” Patches said as her tail jigged and jagged back and forth rapidly. I always wanted to bite that thing and this was no exception.
I banged my paw on the bumper this time harder, but Jessie was looking toward the front of the machine house. We all heard it; I definitely smelled it and so did the cat as she walked back around the way she had come. I batted Jessie’s leg with my paw; she reached a hand down to brush me away. Alright, so much for subtle, I thought grimly. As her hand came down again I clamped a hold. She cried out in surprise. It wasn’t even close to being enough pressure to break skin, but I wasn’t letting go. I dragged her hand over to the bumper; her eyes glistened with fear.
“What, Riley! That really hurts,” she yelled as loudly as she could without getting past a whisper.
I made sure her hand touched the bumper before I let go. She immediately pulled her hand up and rubbed it. I noticed where my large teeth had put indents into her hand. Maybe I had bit down a little harder than intended. I was scared too. Jessie kept rubbing her hand, but her eyes were at least on me, so I put my paw back up on the back of the machine.
“The bumper, Riley? What about… oh shit, that’s where he put the key!” she said happily. “How did you know, good girl?” she said as she patted my head.
“Because I’m smart!” I yipped quietly.
“Yeah, regular genius,” Patches’ voice came faintly from the other side of the garage.
“When this is over, Cat, I will catch you. We have a score to settle.”
“Please,” Patches said, now magically sitting by the front wheel licking her paw. “You couldn’t catch your own tail.”
“You know that’s not fair, Cat, I don’t have much of a tail,” I growled.
“Like I said,” she finished as she licked the rest of her paw.
“I’m not really sure what that means but it doesn’t sound good,” I told her.
“Hah, got it!” Jessie said triumphantly. “Come on, Riley girl, let’s go for a ride!” she said excitedly.
I looked over to Patches; she looked like she had swallowed a lemon. “What’s the matter? Got your own tongue?” I laughed.
“Yeah, never heard that one,” she answered nervously.
“Come on, Jessie is driving the wheeled ride. As much as it pains me to say this, you need to get in,” I told her.
“I’m not getting in the car,” she hissed. “Every time I do, some strange guy tells me how cute I am right before he stings me with a metal stick.”
“That thing is called a what? And the animal doctor? You’re afraid of the animal doctor? But they always give treats,” I tried to assure her.
“You’re just too dog-id to realize, Riley. That’s where they brought George when he was sick and he never came back. I wish he were here now,” she cried.
“George? Why? I mean I wish he were here too.”
“Are you really that stupid?” she asked with that look of contempt only a cat can pull off with an air of indifference.
I took a step toward her. “I can only suffer your attitude for so long, Cat, no matter the dangers lurking outside.”
“Fine,” she fairly purred, the edge of her muzzle pulling up in a supercilious smile. “George and I were the best of friends.”
“You lie!” I barked in her face. I noticed with satisfaction she flinched when my spittle sprayed her face.
“Riley! Shut up, they’re going to hear us,” Jessie cried in alarm.
“Oh, it’s true,” Patches replied, rubbing her paw on her face to wipe away the majority of the offending liquid. “I knew George for eight seasons before the humans made the mistake of bringing you home.”
Eight? I don’t know how many eight is. I didn’t know what else to do, I was in shock so I did the best thing I could think of, I growled at her.
“We were almost as close as litter mates.”
I think my jaw dropped.
“I can’t be expected to remember that far back. Has to be ten winter seasons ago and I was very young. I can’t say for sure which one of us was here first, but I remember the heat of him as we slept curled together.”
Ten! Dammit, another number I did not know, but it sounded like it must be more than seven. “He told me how he hated cats, Cat!” I said triumphantly.
“That may be the case,” she answered back coolly. “But did he ever mention me specifically?”
“Well… well, not specifically, but it was implied!” I told her, believing I had for certain won this skirmish. “I watched him chase you,” I added, believing this to be the knock out paw to the side of the head.
“It was merely for the amusement of the two-leggers.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“The humans thought it funny, plus they would give him a cookie if he stopped. Part of which he always shared with me.”
“The secret stash? He shared his secret stash with you? He wouldn’t even let me sniff anywhere near it.”
“Well, that should tell you something,” Patches said arrogantly.
I growled deeply.
“Are they getting closer, Riley?” Jessie asked. “Get in the car.” She leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“Cat, if you don’t get in this machine I will have to eat you now and since I still have the taste of the dead ones in my mouth I would not be able to enjoy it as much. So get in the car,” I rumbled menacingly.
Patches looked toward my drool-dripping maw, to the garage door where something banged up against it, and to the open door where Jessie was encouraging her to enter with hand motions and gently cooing. She took the less threatening alternative and jumped onto the seat and then into Jessie’s lap.
“Shut the door, shut the door,” Patches meowed to Jessie.
“Be quiet, Patches,” Jessie murmured.
“You’re about as trustworthy as a French poodle,” I growled to the cat as I raced around the Hummer and hopped up onto the seat next to Jessie’s.
“Take it back,” Patches hissed, showing her claws.
“I’d rather mate with a snake,” I told her, which was pretty low as far as dog swears went.
“You will regret this,” she told me, her green eyes narrowing with animosity.
“Already do,” I said as Jessie stretched her arm across me to shut my door.
“I will urinate where—”
“Shut up!” I snapped. I paused for a second. Everything was quiet. “Did you hear that?” I asked her.
“How could I? I don’t have those big Dumbo ears.”
I didn’t know what ‘Dumbo’ meant but it came from the cat so it couldn’t be good. “There it is again.”
Patches tilted her head.
“Oh, no!’ we said in unison.
“It’s Ben-Ben,” I finished.
“This night couldn’t get any worse,” Patches sighed.
It could get worse for you, I thought. Ben-Ben had climbed my respect ladder tonight but he was still a pain in my rear quarters.
“Rileeeeyy,” came Ben-Ben’s yipping. “Where are you, Rileeeeeyyy?”
“Dog couldn’t find his own scat if he stepped in it,” Patches offered.
“That’s pretty funny, Cat,” I told Patches. She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “But he stood his ground with me when all, including yourself, took flight.”
Patches looked at me defiantly. “Who do you think showed the two-leggers the window to get out?”
“You? The humans could not think of it on their own?” I begged to differ.
“You were not in there, Riley. The panic pheromones flooding off them were horrible. They were hiding in the water collector; I jumped up onto the ledge and beat my paw against the glass. It was then your Alpha and my Care-Giver thought to open it and look around to see if the dead ones were out there. I jumped down first to make sure the coast was clear and meowed back up to him that everything was okay. He lowered Jessie down first, then dropped Zachary into her arms. The fat one that always pulled my tail did not fit.”
“You did all that?” I asked. How could I have been so wrong about Ben-Ben and now Patches? I wondered. “I still do not know if I will ever like you, Cat, but I thank you for saving these two cubs.”
“And I thank you for giving me the time to do it,” she replied.
“This is going to take some time to get used to,” I told her.
“Agreed,” she said. “But can’t we leave Ben-Ben behind while we figure it all out?”
“Damn, Ben-Ben. I had almost forgotten about him.”
“Reason twenty-two why cats are better than dogs.”
“I hate numbers, Cat.”
“I know,” she purred smugly.
I barked once at Jessie who had turned to check on Zachary. “Shhh, girl, what’s the matter?” she asked softly.
Certainly she could hear Ben-Ben now even with those useless little round things the two-leggers called ears. How do they have every other species on the planet afraid of them? They are slow, they cannot smell or hear well. Their teeth are small and not very intimidating, and they don’t see particularly well in the dark. As dogs we were smart enough to realize why we should ally ourselves with them but we could not figure out their secret of domination.
Jessie took in a great gulp of air. “Is that Ben-Ben? If Ben-Ben survived, did the rest of my family?” she asked me. “Oh, Riley,” she cried and grabbed both sides of my head, weeping.
Nobody else from her pack survived, I had seen the damage done. Jessie leaned away from me to open her door. I jumped over her as her door came completely open. I landed awkwardly on the ground but hurt nothing. I turned to Jessie and barked once, telling her to stay. She looked at me with a funny expression and then shut her door. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
“Hey, Brainiac,” the cat yelled. “How you going to get out of the garage?”
I did not know ‘brainiac’ or ‘garage’, but I pieced together the getting out part and considering the speaker, figured it was some sort of insult.
“I’m not as dumb as you look, Cat,” I told her.
“We’ll see,” she said aloofly, looking out the window.
I gripped the metal door handle tightly with my jaws, which were still sore from earlier, and twisted. At first my teeth just slid uncomfortably along the cold fixture. I could hear the cat chuckling but I tried to ignore it. I twisted the other way, my teeth were still slipping but this time the handle was turning. I bit down harder, my jaw muscles ached. The door was loose! I backed up and the door swung inwards. “Hah!” I barked in triumph a little too loudly.
“Who else you going to let know?” Patches asked with a sneer.
I ignored her as I listened for Ben-Ben’s telltale yipping. He was on the far side of the house away from the ‘garage’. I could smell the dead ones and they were close, even the cat’s piss could do little to disguise it.
“Rileeeey, they’re chasing me!” Ben-Ben yipped fearfully.
He was running the other way, away from Jessie, Zach, the other, and me. I ran to the corner of the house to see which way he was going. Ben-Ben was looking over his shoulder as maybe twenty-two dead ones were chasing him. I couldn’t exactly tell because twenty-two is a very large number. If the cat knows the number then so do I, I thought.
“Ben-Ben!” I barked as loud as I could. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Stupid dog! Keep running or they will eat you. Run around the two-legger’s house next to us as fast as you can and then come to the wheeler house,” I barked, my throat raw from the effort.
“Rileeeyyy!” Ben-Ben squealed in happiness as he abruptly turned and started running directly toward me, his tongue lolling, eyes wide with fear, gore and gristle probably from twenty of the two-leggers dripping from him.
“Oh, Cat crap,” I moaned. The zombies were trying
to get a hold of Ben-Ben as he dodged in and out of outstretched hands, but what was worse were the ones he got past were now starting to follow.
“Ben-Ben, I’m going back to the wheeler house, when you get there jump in to the wheeler!” I turned to start to run.
“Can’t, Riley,” he panted. I felt bad; the little guy was starting to tucker out. “Too high,” he got out hastily.
“Just get there and be quick.”
“I love you, Rileeeey,” he yipped excitedly.
“Fine, just keep running.” But I smiled all the same.
Jessie was out of the car; at least that’s what I think the cat called it.
“Oh, Riley, you’re back,” Jessie said happily. “I was so worried. We need to go, girl.”
Figured that part out on my own, I wanted to tell her. She reached over and pressed a button, a large sound overhead caused the big ‘car’ door to open. “Come on, girl,” Jessie said as she ran over to the car and patted the seat for me to get in. She got upset when I didn’t immediately follow her command. “Please, Riley, we need to go.” I could tell she was close to tears. Just then I watched as her head swiveled up to the sound of Ben-Ben’s yammering. “Ben-Ben?” she fairly cried. “He looks like a zombie.”
I turned to see the approaching Yorkie. I could see her point. He had more life fluid on the outside of him than he probably contained on the inside.
“They’re close, Rileeey,” Ben-Ben needlessly told me.
He darted past me and up to the first step of the car, where Jessie was looking down at him in disbelief. Humans are so funny with their fear of what they consider gross stuff, but yet they defecate in the same place they live, so who’s gross now? I ran over to the car, grabbed Ben-Ben by the scruff of his fur and launched him inside. He did a quick shake all over the seat Alpha used. Someone was going to get dirty, I thought as I hopped in. “Backseat, mutt,” I barked at him. He didn’t so much as register a complaint he was so happy to be ‘safe’. I had to admit I was happy to see him too.
“Disgusting!” Jessie said looking at her seat. She was hesitant to get in until I started barking past her and at the figures in the doorway. Gross seat was WAY better than Dead Ones. Apparently, Jessie thought the same thing as she hastily hopped in and shut her door.