Cubby - My first Best Friend

This is the story about a girl [Jessie, illustrator of The Hound Who Saw, coming out near Easter 2026] who meets her furever first best friend. This is the story about Cubby. He was a burnise mountain dog, border collie mix. He was rescued at three years old, when his first furever family, fell apart. Mom and Dad of that family got divorced, and Dad took Cubby with him. From what we were told, where the man lived, he wasn't allowed to have the dog inside, so, he left him outside all the time. At one point the man stopped feeding him, and he became rather thin. We think when we got him, he was almost 35 pounds soaking wet [he was a little over a hundred pounds when he passed]. He was just shy of ten years old when he crossed the rainbow bridge. This goes out to all the first amazing pets anyone could ever have...

Message from the Illustrator: Cubby, if you are here and you are reading... Remember, I love you and miss you so much. Please keep watching over me and my family. You showed me what true friendship looked like, at such a harsh time in my life. Hang in there a little while, kay buddy? Show that punky Husky nephew of yours how it's really done!!

A Dog:

When I woke, I was in an unfamiliar place. I was in a stall, and there was food, water, and a bed. And, I could hear other dogs. A constant, uneven sound of barking that rings through your head and ears - especially for a canine of my stature. I could smell the life story of hundreds of others like me. No matter how many times you use that nasty cleaning stuff, we can always smell it underneath.

Older dogs, younger, the sick. And even the smell of death somewhere from the back. The floor of my small cage was so, very, very cold. People came and went. They pointed and stared. They gawked and awed. Sometimes they’d open the door and pet me a little bit. I heard them talking about going ‘home.’ I didn’t have a home. That’s why I was here… Homeless. Familyless. Dropped off. Abandoned. This was the place where those of us who were unlovable were taken.

Finally, I tried to make a break for it. I was tired of being walked by humans who rejected me. I wanted out of the cage. I wanted the sky. I wanted to run, jump, and play. I wanted freedom. And I almost had it! But the staff were so quick. They quickly took me back inside with the lady who’d been walking me, and she was looking at me as if I were the most disappointing creature on earth.

A Girl:

After Sabby’s death, everyone was a wreck. However, I wasn’t. I felt bad, but I didn’t know that animal very well. It felt like it was way too soon when we went to the pound to look for another family member to fill the hole that Sabby left. The pound smelled of old urine, new urine, and feces. The smell rushed into my nose, and I almost choked. I covered my nose and went to the area where the dogs were being held.

When I reached the dog section, I looked at the dogs in the stall, reading their adoption papers. I saw a lady with a black, white, and brown dog. He was gorgeous. I caught his eye as they put him back into the kennel. I went up to the stall once the way was clear, some ways away from my family. It was cold back there, and I could tell he was unhappy. But he was sitting next to the door, looking a little bit.

Hi! My Name is Cubby.

“Hi, Cubby. I bet you’re a good boy.” I whispered. His ears picked up, but only a little. His eyes looked at me for a moment before they filled with sadness, before his head was down and he was closing his eyes, acting as if I didn’t exist. I heard my mom calling for me. They hadn’t made a decision, so we went home empty-handed that day. And all through the night, all I could think about were those dogs sad, hopeless eyes.

A Dog:

The next morning I was thinking about that little girl. She had said I was a good boy. And her eyes were so big when she looked at me. I almost felt bad for pretending like I didn’t hear it. I wanted to be wanted. But I already know what happens to dogs like me. One day, they will take me to the back, where they take dogs who will never be loved again. And I won’t ever be coming back to my stall then.

But that little girl. She had seen me. She looked into my eyes. I didn’t want to feel hope. A handler came and got me to take me for a walk. Or at least I thought. When I woke up from my drugged state, I was in pain, and I felt wrong. What the hell did these humans do to me?

I remembered the girl from yesterday, and a small secret part of me wished she were there. And the next thing I know, she’s walking in again. I thought I was dreaming when she hurried away, but then she came back. I remember trying to lift my head and wag my tail, but then I fell asleep again. And when I woke up, she was gone.

A Girl:

I got out of the car the next day with my family at the pound again. We hadn’t had any success yesterday, so we were going to try again. When we got back to the dog section, and I broke away again as they began to try and make a decision. I stopped outside Cubby’s stall and peered in on him. He was curled up in a ball and slightly shivering.

“Hey there. You okay, sweetie?” I asked. He lifted his head slightly, tipping his ears to me as he opened his eyes sleepily, before his head dropped low. Worried, I made my way over to a volunteer, pointing. “Hey, something’s wrong with that dog!” She frowned and followed me to Cubby’s stall, and she smiled.

“Oh! He’s okay. He just got fixed today, so he’s a little sleepy from the medicine he got for the pain.” I was so glad that he was okay, I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath. When she smiled and said he was okay, I let out a sigh and breathed again. This day ended much the same. We left with no dog or cat to call our own.

When we went back the very next day, I finally spoke up. My family hadn’t noticed Cubby yet, but I knew he’d be a perfect fit for us. Or at least me. I could just tell, this good boy was as lonely as I was. And I couldn’t leave him in this place again, for the third time. I would beg if I had to. I would get a job and pay for him myself.

This time, Cubby would not be left behind.

A Dog:

The girl came back. Again. This time, when they entered the shelter, she came straight over and pointed at me.

“How about this one?” She said, and the family looked at each other and shrugged. The worker who fed me my breakfast came over and smiled at me.

“Hey, little man! This family wants to meet you. Is that okay?”

Yes. It was okay. I looked at the girl who was looking at me and wagged my tail, so the humans would know that I’d like to meet them too. I was put on a leash and led to one of the rooms where they take us so we can meet the humans safely, but also where I can’t run away. Once we were in the room, I took a few minutes to smell each human. But as I suspected, the girl smelled the best. And her pets were perfect.

“He likes you, Jess. That’s good,” the human named Mom answered. I could only wag my tail in response, looking up to see that my chosen human, Jess, was smiling at me. I could smell the shift. I knew she was happy.

The Breakfast Human let us go for a walk. She warned that I would pull, and I promised I would try not to. But I was excited! This time, I wasn’t trying to get away from Jess. I was pulling her toward adventure on the pathway. It had been weeks since I had gotten to sniff around and see who came through. I made sure to wag my tail at every spot that smelled interesting, looking up at the human Jess to make sure she knew that it was a good spot to investigate.

Jess was laughing as she tried to keep up with me, and by the time I made her tired, the humans named Mom and Dad had agreed: They would take me home. As we waited for my microchip and papers, My Human, Jess, was petting me, promising me that she would always take good care of me. When she took me out the front door of that place, I never looked back once.

Soon our pack grew. A small toy of a dog named Misty, otherwise fondly known as Kitty to the humans. joined us. She was tiny, and I was afraid to hurt her. So I would pretend to submit to her. The funniest part is, she always runs to the humans, convinced she won. So proud of herself.

My human, Jess, thrived after I joined her. She was helping her parents work. They would paint their faces in what I thought was terrifying paint, and they would wear ridiculously big shoes. I didn’t understand what they did, but as long as My Human, Jess, was happy, then so was I. Of course, it also took me a long time to get used to this place. These people were so nice, it still took years for me to shake the fear that had me jump at every loud sound.

I hadn’t ever known that there was a Santa Paws who would leave us a bone during the Pretty Tree and Cold Outside Holiday. In a big soft sock. Misty and I always made the Good Pupper List.

Three years later, Jess:

My aunt R brought a new dog for my mom. The dog is great. But having to deal with R for the day when she brought Zoe to us was dreadful. I felt bad for Misty and Cubby. To my nose, she smelled like old cat poop and pee. I could only imagine what she smelled like to the dogs. And her voice! All day long, commanding us around, demanding we leave Zoey alone.

Still, Zoey joined the family, and once R was gone, it was much, the dogs quickly got used to each other.

I was worried, though. Cubby had slipped on the ice. And now he was limping. Everyone just assumed he hurt himself when he fell. But something was off. He was sleeping more. Not eating as much. Not as waggly and energetic. I knew my best friend, and deep down, I could feel it.

I convinced my mom to take him to the vet. And supposedly, they tested for everything. But Cubby wasn’t acting right. The day we got home from the vet with the ‘good news’ that nothing was wrong, I couldn’t help that feeling, nagging away at the back of my stomach and heart. I just knew something was wrong.

“They should have listened to me. I hope I’m wrong, Cubs. But I have such a bad feeling.”

Four years later, Cubby:

She had always known when the pain got worse. No matter how much I tried to hide the limp. Pain had been the one constant in my leg after that fall that winter. But I lived my life to the absolute fullest.

And My human, Jess, was beside me for all of it. But day after day, it got harder to get up. It got harder to run. And I was tired. My human, Jess, had finally prevailed in getting me into the vet again. Her phone rang one day while we were hanging out. It was Mom Human, and I could feel My Human, Jess, stiffen beside me. When she hung up, she wrapped her arms around me and began to cry. I knew it was about me. The vet finally told my human what I had been hiding. I let her cry into my fur, and I did all I could to comfort her.

Humans' lives are so much longer than ours. She didn’t understand that she was still a pup, but I had grown old. And my life was so happy. I had a little pack that revolved me wholeheartedly. And the Human Pack had treated me with so much love and had given me so many snacks. And even forgave me when I accidentally piddled on the floor when I got scared, and even gored myself on food when I first arrived. And my girl. My best friend. I had her, too. That was the best part of my whole life. My Human.

When Mom Human got home, she explained my disease was spreading very quickly, and that I was suffering. I had given them the clue that it was time. I had stopped feeling hungry and thirsty. And all I could do was sleep. I understood what Mom Human said. Tomorrow, they would take me to a room where Dogs Do Not Come Back From.

My Human, Jess, cried all night. Mom and Dad wanted to spend one more night with me, so they could say their goodbye. But I could hear My Girl crying. It was my only regret. Being unable to get Mom and Dad to understand me when I tried to explain that my Human, Jess, needed me.

Honestly, they cried for a really long time with me between them, too. They were trying to be quiet. They didn’t want Our Kid Humans to know they were crying. And in the morning, I hurried to My Girl, My Human. Jess. She had to go to school. She cried when she had to go, but the minute she was home, she spent the last few precious hours together.

I sat beside her in the backseat for my last Bye-Bye ride. She took the tags off my collar, and she cried and cried all the way to the vet's office. I licked her tears away. She didn’t understand that it was okay. I was old. And I was sick. And even if they didn’t take me today, Death would come for me soon. And I was glad when she didn’t go into the room with us.

When she sat down in the big room to wait, and Mom and Dad led us to another room, I knew I would not come back. This was the door in which Dogs Do Not Return. I turned to look at My Girl, Jess, My Human. I wanted to see her one more time before I was gone. Our eyes locked, one last time. I could see the pain. So I wagged my tail for her and let out a big smile. My Human, Jess. She was the Goodest Human Girl a dog could ever have. She saw it. I know she did, because she tried to smile back. But I could feel the piece of her I was taking with me. I could only hope she would know that I would always be there.

Mom and Dad held me tight while I fell asleep. Death waited until I was asleep, and she lifted me up and over the rainbow so gently that I didn’t even have time to be scared. And when I woke up, Mom, Dad, and even My Girl, Jess, couldn’t see me anymore. I am on the other side of a rainbow. But I am just one of several dogs who wait patiently for the day our pack reunites. I will make sure to be at Death’s feet when it was My Human, Jess’s time to join us. But that won’t be for a long, long, long time from now. And that’s okay. A good dog will wait as long as they have to. As long as My Girl, Jess, has a long, happy life... My mission... It was complete...

20 Years Later - Jess:

To this day, I can feel Cubby next to me, under the computer chair, lying next to me, smiling at me. When he had gone into the room, he gave a last glance at me, smiling at me. I knew then that he was happy and that he had no regrets. I am forever grateful to that last smile. It helped me get over the guilt that you get when you feel as if you have let your best friend down. The nights after, when the dark whispers to you how you let them die.

Time doesn’t change how much I miss him. And Cubby could never be replaced. Though I have loved and lost several dogs since him, Cubby remains my first best friend. In the words of James Hurst, he was my

“Scarlet Ibis, in a heresy of rain.”

Author: Willowmeana

Illustrator: Jessie Lynn Nelson