The Hapless One

The Hapless One

By

Christopher “Bully the Kid” Bennett

The ground was hard, frozen from the below freezing temperatures of the previous night. His breath cascading across the concrete as he looked at the traffic below the under pass in which he rested. A small cardinal perched atop the chain link safety fence, ruffling its feathers against the cold. He watched the bird for a moment, before stretching his long limbs and shaking his coat as if the motion would bring some form of warmth to his bones. The shake was a preamble to the moment of movement that would start his day.

Mornings were always rough, the cars speeding by as their drivers were impatiently weaving in out of traffic. School buses screeching as small children hustled on board the yellow boxes to the warm buildings of education. He had a practiced route that he utilized to get to the back of the Checkers burger place. It wasn’t much, but the dumpsters were old and the employees lazy. They often missed the dumpster when tossing out trash, resulting in burgers, buns and fries being strewn behind the weak enclosure. He squeezed through a hole and gobbled down a bun that had fallen out of the plastic trash bag. His teeth ripped the bag further and he ate his fill of greasy fast food debris.

A sound startled him… a tiger striped tabby looked down at him from the top of the dumpster. The cat hissed, revealing its fangs, its green eyes shooting daggers at him. For a moment he thought of standing his ground, but feral cats were not easy wins, and the haggard looking feline appeared to have the experience of fighting dogs over moldy fries… he’d pass and leave the spot to his orangish counterpart. He slowly backed away, grabbing a half eaten burger from the opened bag, and then trotted across the street. He ran up the concrete ramp, back under the bridge. Something was wrong….

The man…. his man was gone. The tent empty, he dropped the burger, and sniffed the makeshift bed of old clothes and soiled newspapers. The bedding cold, as if the warm body had left long ago. He looked across the concrete shelter that others now occupied. Familiar faces, but none the one he sought. He trotted from one makeshift space to another, yet no sign of the familiar scent that belonged to his. An elderly woman spoke softly to him as he passed her space. She shivered in the cold, and for a moment he stopped and allowed her to wrap her boney arms against his fur. She shook as she held him, mumbling words that were unrecognizable. He wanted to help her, but it was important he found the man, he pulled away and continued his search.

The road was slick as the ice waited for the sun to melt its cold exterior and provide water for the wildlife of the city. He plodded to an intersection, but the spot was occupied by a family, a small child stood with his parents and a cardboard sign. The suburban commuters drove by, and averted their eyes while they prayed for the light to turn green before their guilt caused them to give change to the small family. He had stood on the corner his entire life with the man, until the mans cough made it too difficult to collect money in the harsh elements. The corner was no longer theirs.. so he moved on.

Familiar spots that they had occupied were either taken, or empty. The mans scent missing from the dirty scents of the city, rain mixed with gasoline, the aroma of debris and car smoke. He ran to the doorway of an abandoned hotel, a paper cup lay on the street. A couple coins glaring at him from the ground.. when he smelled the all too familiar aroma of blood. The cup having splatters of blood against the rim. He licked the cup tasting the metallic taste of the red fluid. A sense of panic ran across his mind. He lifted his nose to the wind… catching a scent.. it was his man! He ran towards the scent! It was coming from across the street. He rounded the corner and saw a crumbled body against a wall. He ran harder, stretching his legs out in full strides to get to what was his… one bound followed by another. His ears back as he was almost flying to the man…. He didn’t see the van, he didn’t hear the screech of tires, or smell the rubber being ripped against the road….

The van slammed into his body throwing it across the street, his body bouncing across the asphalt. His head hitting a light pole, his ribs breaking on impact with the unforgiving road. He laid there.. stunned and broken, his eyes went back to the body against the wall. He yelped as he drug himself to the man… every inch an effort, blood flowing from his mouth. Every foot sending sharp spasms of pain through his body… he was so close… his man was right there. His scent was all over, he could smell him, but could not hear him. There was no raspy breath, no haggard cough, only his scent and silence. The dogs body was on fire, burning from the incessant pain…

A shock of warmth hit his side… it was a hand. A woman was pressing her hand against his side.. her voice was soothing, her touch soft, he looked into her eyes, they were the bluish green of water. He was tired and hurting, but his man was right here, but he couldn’t move.. he couldn’t get to him. He watched as a man placed a coat over his mans body. He could hear a siren, loudly blaring as if on top of him. The woman whispered in his ear…

“It’s okay boy… it’s okay.”

He watched his man until his vision was blurry… his world disappearing behind a cloud of darkness… the hand still pressed against his side…

The bed was soft… the smells unfamiliar around him. The brightness of clean was overbearing, cold metal surrounded him… he was trapped! The metallic bars in front of him felt as if they were closing in around him. He pushed himself against the back of the cage. The fluffy bed feeling unnatural beneath his paws. He stayed quiet trying to assess the situation he found himself in. Through the bars he could see other cages, other dogs that were just as trapped as him, yet oddly calm and reserved to their fate. He remembered the man… lifeless, and covered by the coat. He stood up and a sharp pain shot through his ribs, he yelped loudly at the suddenness of pain. A familiar face appeared through the bars…. It was the woman from the street… the one with the soft hands….. her words.

“It’s okay boy… it’s okay.”

The days to come were shorter, the cold replaced by warmth. The lady was kind, she was patient as he struggled to walk. She calmed him when the newness of kindness replaced the memories of harshness. Her high pitched laugh when he tipped over the trash can, or spilled his bowl to eat his kibble from the floor. She was soft where the man had been gruff. The differences were vast, but there were similarities. When she looked at him, or when she rubbed that special spot behind his ears….. memories would flood his mind and remind him of his man. Love was not cookie cutter in shape, it was an amoeba of sorts that was whatever it could be in that moment. He loved the love, but bucked against the removal of freedom. The crate, the collars, the leash were not easily accepted, despite the shiny, sanitized bowls and luxuriously soft beds.

Yet… he found happiness in pleasing her, just as he had in the man. He would do for her, as she had done for him. He would accept her control because it provided him a freedom that was only found in love. Her space was large, doorways that only had their scent, concrete that was only walked on by the two of them. The van which struck him, became another piece of his territory. His life changed and as the days, became months, and the months became years he forgot his days under the underpass. Until one day a cardinal landed on the wooden privacy fence of his yard. It fluffed its feathers against the breeze, winter was coming and in that moment he remembered the man…

The moments which had become memories, but moments that had shown him love, and in return he had shown loyalty through love. A familiar scent wafted to his nose and he looked at the woman open the kitchen window overlooking the yard. He looked back at the bird, who returned his gaze before cocking its head to the side, and then flying off with the breeze. He rose from the grass and trotted to his home… to his woman.