LatinosUSA

I came from a horrible place where I, and many like me, were kept in cages in a barn with a dirt floor and artificial sunlight. Long, thin things slithered through now and then, and excited the two-legged giants. Friends would disappear, and I wondered where they’d gone until I was taken to another place and put in a glass-fronted cage. I supposed it was the place my friends had come to, but I didn’t see anyone I knew. There were two others, a guy and a gal in the next cage, and it’s possible I’d seen them in the barn, but I wasn’t sure. They looked sad, and although I tried to make contact, they seemed to want only each other’s company.  

There were other animals. A pathetic furry thing in the cage on the other side hissed at me and made strange noises. There were two others in the same cage, but they just cuddled themselves and slept most of the time.

Food times were special. A giant who brought the food was kind. She held me gently and made friendly noises. She fed the furry objects, too, and they became temporarily servile, curling their tails around the giant’s back legs and looking at her with false adoration. She washed me when I arrived, and although I was a bit scared, she was very gentle and made sure I didn’t drown or anything. She blew warm air on me to dry my golden coat. That was fun.

Others, like the one who fed us, came by all the time. They were strange giants, with too much hair on their heads and not enough on their faces and paws. They walked on their back legs, which must be tiring, and they covered their bodies and legs with stuff that must surely make it difficult to walk and run. I wondered how they peed and pooed. The female giants smelled terrible. A friend later told me they do it on purpose, but it made me want to sneeze. The males weren’t as bad, but I learned that they’re not averse to putting the smelly stuff on now and then. Younger giants smell wonderful.

The one who fed us had head hair so long that it resembled a tail. How strange to have a tail on one’s head. The cages were cleaner, but had hot, bright lights. The trouble was that unknown giants wanted to pick me up and rub my coat. They touched my nose and held me against their chests. They made funny faces and expected me to react in some way. They talked to me in a strange language and, judging by the expressions in their eyes, thought I understood them. When they raised the pitch of their voices and made ridiculous sounds, I lost all respect for them. Then they’d put me down, shake their heads, and walk away. Why?  Why didn’t they just let me be? The first few times I was picked up and handed around, I got scared, and I peed on a smelly giant’s arm. She got very annoyed and dropped me as if I were poisonous. Thankfully, I landed on my feet.

~~

After a few days, the giants who now share my living space brought me here. The smelly giant put me in a basket with an old blanket that had the odours of others on it. I got used to the odours without difficulty, but I wondered if I was going to stay only a short time before being moved again.

Unfortunately, there’s a furry thing here, too. It’s white and black and brown, and thinks it’s in charge. I went to check out its food, and it hissed and bopped me on my head a few times. The young giants laughed and moved me to a different bowl with tastier food. The furry thing gave me the evil eye. There was another bowl next to what I assumed was mine, and when I sniffed the food there, an older dog appeared and growled in his throat. I got the message. The older dog seemed aloof, and so I named him Snooty. I would make the grade one day, he said, but until then, I’d better do whatever he says. We’ll see, I thought. He told me the furry thing has a nervous disposition, and I should let her be. Apparently, she’d calm down as she got used to me. To add to his lofty attitude, Snooty told me he’d come from a farm where he had been the first choice of a litter, whereas I’d come from a dog factory.

“Do you even know who your parents were?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “Why does that make a difference?”

“Social status, young friend.”

“What’s social status?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “When you come from the bottom of the pile, there’s not much you can do about it.”

“Screw you, you old fleabag,” I said.

He used his teeth to pick me up by the scruff of my neck, and tossed me against the wall. It didn’t hurt too much. The giant who makes the deep noise seemed amused, while Smelly Giant and the young giants made concerned sounds. Furry Thing looked overjoyed. I felt humiliated and went to my basket.

Snooty came over and licked my head. “Got it now?”

“Sorry,” I said.

“I’m sorry too,” he said. “My pain made me lose control for a moment.”

“What pain?” I asked.

“Something in my head. I figure if I die, this lot,” he nodded at the giants, “won’t have to kill me to save me from the pain. It’s not bad enough for me to let go yet, but it’ll happen sooner, rather than later. That’s why you’re here; you’re my replacement for when I go to the great boneyard in the sky.”

“What’re you called?”

“This lot call me Ben, but others call me Get Lost, Go Away, Come Here, Cutie, and others I can’t remember.”

“I call you Snooty,” I risked, “because you’re the top dog. Is that okay?”

He smiled indulgently. “As you put it like that, Young ‘un, I’ll put up with it.”

“What are the others called?”

“The ones you call Giants are, I believe, known as humans. They don’t understand a word we say, so you can call them whatever you want. Giants is as good as anything. The nervous Nellie is what’s known as a cat. The giants call it Tiddles.”

I laughed. “It must have done something bad to have such a terrible name! I won’t insult it by calling it Tiddles, so I’ll keep calling it Furry Thing. What about me?  Do the giants have a name for me?”

“They do, Young ‘un. You’re known as Bentwo. I guess once I’m dead, it’ll get shortened to plain old Ben. To me, you’re Young ‘un. Oh, by the way, we’re known collectively as dogs, except for Tiddles, who, as I said, is a cat.” 

~~

Thinking of what Snooty had said about his health and how he was going to leave me with Furry Thing, I figured I’d better mark out my patch. I started the following morning, and Snooty got very agitated. “No, no, no, don’t do that!  The giants’ll get really bent out of shape. It’s taken me years to train them, and you could screw it all up overnight the way you’re going.”

Smelly Giant must have heard Snooty’s noise, and she came hurrying into the room. When she saw the line of my pee on the shaggy floor, she shrieked and made a lot of noises. She grabbed my head and rubbed my nose in my own pee. It seemed a strange thing to do, and it made my nose a bit sore. She picked me up, carried me to the door, and dropped me onto the flagstones outside.

Snooty joined me. “I hope you’ve learned not to do that again,” he said. “You can only ever relieve yourself outdoors. There’ll be times when you’ll need to go, but you have to wait until they let you out. Cross your legs, curl into a ball, bark at the door, or bark at the bigger giants (the smaller ones sometimes don’t know what’s going on). Once they get the message, they’ll let you out. They’ll do so anyway after you eat, so make sure you take care of business at that time. Once they sleep, you have to wait until after dawn before they let you out again. Make sure you drink only when you know you’ll be going outside soon. Water’s always available, but the food only stays edible for a while. Make sure you keep the bowl clean, as it can get disgusting if the young giants forget to rinse it. Mind, when they wash it, they leave a trace of chemicals on it.”

“You know a lot of stuff,” I said.

“It’s called experience. Years of experience. When I arrived, there was no one to tell me what to do, so consider yourself lucky. Talking of which, I meet guys in the park who tell me they learned the meaning of some of the giant’s noises, like going for a ride in the car, a walk to the store, and other sounds. Being the wimps they are (you’ll see them soon enough, fancy coloured coats and such), they try to please their giants by anticipating their moves. Don’t ever, and I mean ever, do that. If the idiots think we understand one or two sounds, they expect us to understand everything. It’s a slippery slope, believe me. You don’t know jack as far as they’re concerned. Having said that, you will need to learn three noises they make. I’ll help you there. They want us to sit at their invitation and remain in place until they call us to join them. I’ve no idea why. No matter, it’ll be easy enough with me around. You’ve just got to differentiate between the three noises. There’s a fourth noise the humans are keen on. They want you to take things to them, a round thing, or a twig. Never succumb to their bribes!  If you do, they’ll have you picking up and carrying all sorts of things for them. They ever try to put anything but food in your mouth, you develop a slack jaw. Got it?”

Smelly Giant took me for my first walk in the park. I looked for the wimps but didn’t see any. I was overjoyed to smell all the cousins who’d been there before me. (I suppose some of them could have been the wimps.) They left their smells on gate posts, fence posts, tree trunks, and lamp posts. Some of the smells were different, excitingly different. I asked Snooty about them. “Wait ‘til we get home and find a quiet corner,” he said, “and I’ll tell you all about the birds and the bees.”

“I know about birds and bees,” I said. “I want to know about these strange smells.”

“You will,” he said with a smile.

After a while, I needed to void myself, and I assumed the position. I hesitated, waiting to hear if Smelly would scream and shout, but she just stared into the distance, so I relaxed and took care of business. Done, I straightened myself and prepared to move off when Smelly stooped and scooped up my deposit.

I was amazed. “Snooty, Snooty, did you see that?  Smelly collected my stuff!  That must surely make me a top dog, right?”

“Cool your pits,” he said. “The giants do it for all of us. As far as I can figure, it’s their way of demonstrating the respect and admiration they have for us. Thankfully, they don’t expect us to do it for them. Imagine! They have special places for that, a bit like Furry Thing’s box.  They’re giants, Young ‘un. Who knows what goes on in their heads?”   

“You’re so smart, Snooty.”

“You got that right, Young ‘un, just make sure you remember it.”

~~

Learning the three noises started the next day. Deep Noise made a sound and pushed my backside onto the grass. Then he walked away from me. But he kept looking at me and repeating a different sound. I guessed he wanted me to follow him, which I did. He sighed, pushed my rear end down again, made the first noise, and again walked away making the second noise. Then I remembered I was supposed to look at Snooty. The third time we went through the routine, I saw him nod his head at the first noise, which was the agreed signal for me to sit. He wagged his tail once when I should wait. So, I sat there and waited. Deep Noise made the third sound, and Snooty wagged his tail twice, which I figured meant I should go to the giant’s side. The happy giant banged his paws together in joy and gave me a treat. The game wasn’t hard to take. We did it a few more times, and I got a few more treats. After a while, Snooty raised his eyebrows as if to remind me to get slack-jawed. I dropped one of the treats on the ground beside him, but he gave me a disdainful look.

~~

I like to be with the young giants when the sun is out, but when they go to sleep, I like to be next to Deep Noise. Snooty and I lie on either side of his chair. He sometimes fondles my ear or strokes my back and chin while he watches a window that isn’t a window, where miniature giants chase a ball around a field, just as I like to do. Sometimes Deep Noise shouts and bangs his paws together and makes loud noises, and I can tell he’s excited, but I don’t know why.

Furry Thing hangs with Smelly Giant, and that’s fine. She even sits in Smelly Giant’s lap. Where’s the self-respect? 

I must say, Smelly makes sure the young giants feed us every day. Trouble is, she screams a lot at me, at Snooty, at Furry Thing, at the young giants, and sometimes Deep Noise gets it too. Snooty says her noise is worse than her bite.

~~

Deep Noise gave me a short length of thick rope he’d knotted at each end. It was great for games of tug of war with the young giants. At other times, I liked to clamp my jaws on it and toss my head from side to side. Sometimes I tossed it so energetically that the weight and speed caused me to lose my balance. That made the giants happy.

There were days when other giants came to our living place to eat and drink. Some didn’t like me. They smiled and made nice noises, but I could sense them wishing I were’nt near them. This, in my home! One smelly giant pushed me away and made hateful noises. Deep Noise calmed her and bent to scratch my ear. That showed her! Good old Deep Noise. I got my rope and swung it with all the momentum I could generate. Unfortunately, one of the knots hit her shin, and she screamed. Deep Noise grabbed my collar, took me to the guest bedroom, and shut me inside. After a while I needed to go outside, but I was trapped. I remembered Snooty’s words about holding everything in. He must have sensed my discomfort because I heard him settle on the other side of the door.

“Hang in there, Young ’un,” he said. “Tell yourself you will hold your water until you go outside. Stretch out, roll in a ball, whatever feels best, and talk to me. We’ll take your mind off the problem. You did good with that smelly giant. She has a red mark on her leg, and she’s the type to tell anyone who’ll listen what a monster you are. That was a top dog moment for you. Well done.”  

After what seemed a long time I told him, “I’m getting desperate, Snooty. Can’t you get Deep Noise to let me out?”

“I’ll try,” he said, and I heard him walk away.

I heard him bark once, softly. After a pause, he did it again. Deep Noise made a response. Snooty barked twice, and I heard him walking back to me, followed by the thuds of Deep Noise’s back feet. The giant opened the door, and the three of us made our way to the back exit.

“Thanks, Snooty,” I said.

“Did you make a mess in the room?”

“No, but it was close.”

~~

One day, we walked along a wooden path above a large expanse of water that moved around a lot. It was fascinating. When we got to the end of the path, Deep Noise unhooked the leather leash with which I kept control of Smelly Giant, picked me up, and threw me over the railing. I hit the water with splash and sank below the surface.  I wondered if it was the end of my life. Why did Deep Noise do that?  I couldn’t see the ground.  I looked up and saw the sky above the water and worked my legs furiously until I managed to get to the surface and breathe again. Deep Noise was smiling as he looked down from the path. Snooty barked. Smelly Giant beat a paw on Deep Noise’s shoulder and screamed at him. The young giants sounded as scared as I felt. I paddled frantically to stay on top of the water, and breathing was difficult. How could I get back on the path?  It seemed impossible. A water movement went over my head, and I swallowed some of it. It tasted like salt. Suddenly, Snooty jumped off the path and landed in the water beside me.

“Come on, Young ‘un,” he said, “we’ve got to paddle to the land over there.” 

He showed me what to do and, although it took a long time, we were finally able to stand on ground that was grainy and moved beneath our paws. I thought I was going to be dragged back into the water, and I ran up a slight hill to where Smelly Giant now stood. I didn’t want Deep Noise to get his hands on me again while we were near the water.

“Did that make me a top dog?” I asked Snooty.

“Not by a long shot,” he replied. I wondered what a long shot is.

~~

The giants, instead of walking, would sometimes get into a room that rolled on the ground and took them to where they wanted to go. The first time they took me into the room, I thought it would be a great adventure, but it was unsteady, and the stops and starts, turns and fumes, made me queasy. After desperate and repeated swallowing, I could no longer control my stomach, and I regurgitated breakfast. Snooty was astounded.

“Eat it,” he told me. Now!”

The idea was disgusting. “Are you for real?”

“Absolutely. Eat it all now, and you’ll never be car sick again.”

And so I did. I ate every last drop and morsel.

Deep Noise made a gratifying sound, but Smelly Giant wasn’t happy. She sprayed the air with chemicals and I was nearly sick again.

“Hold it,” said Snooty.

When we arrived home, I asked Snooty if eating my own vomit made me a top dog. He looked at me with disdain.

~~

One morning, I awoke and sensed a different atmosphere. I went to say hello to Snooty and ask if he felt it too. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, nothing. I ran to Deep Noise and barked at him, and when he made to grab hold of me, I evaded his hands. I kept barking, and his face showed he knew something was up, so he followed me.

They put Snooty under the ground at the back of where we live. I sit on top of him for a while every day. I told Furry Thing to keep well clear of the area and chased her up a tree to make sure she understood my command.

I’m top dog now, although I know Snooty would say not by a long shot.