A Dog’s Journey (25 page)

Trent was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Look, want to go get something to eat?”

I could feel CJ getting a little angry. She folded her arms. “Because?” I went over to her and sat at her feet in case she needed me.

“Um, I don’t know, because it’s dinnertime?”

“So you came over here to feed me? Why don’t I just chirp and you can puke into my mouth?”

“No. CJ, what are you doing? I came over to see how you were.”

“To check up on me. See if I’m getting all my meals.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well, I can’t. I have a date.”

Trent blinked. “Oh.”

“I have to get ready.”

“Okay. Look, I’m sorry if—”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry that I got angry. But you should go.”

Trent nodded. He reached for his coat, taking it off the hook, the leash underneath swaying tantalizingly. I glanced at CJ, but it didn’t look as if she was planning to take a walk. Trent shrugged on the coat, then looked at CJ. “I miss you.”

“I’ve just been so busy.”

“Do you miss me, too?”

CJ looked away. “Of course.”

A sadness rose up within Trent then. “Well, how do I get in touch with you?”

“When I get my phone back up I’ll call you.”

“Let’s grab … coffee, or something.”

“Sure,” CJ said.

They hugged then. CJ was sad, too; it swirled around both of them. I didn’t understand why they were both feeling so bad, but sometimes there are things going on between people that dogs are not supposed to comprehend.

Trent left and Sneakers came out from under the bed. I wished she hadn’t hidden—there was no reason to hide from Trent; he was good.

A few days later CJ and I were coming back from walking with the dogs and there was a woman standing in front of our door with a piece of paper. CJ was panting a little from coming up the stairs. I barked at the stranger.

“Lydia!” CJ said. She stooped and picked me up, and I stopped barking.

“I was just posting notice,” the woman said.

“Notice,” CJ repeated.

The woman sighed. “You’re just so far behind, honey. Can you pay anything toward rent today?”

“Today? No, I’m … I get paid on Friday; I could maybe pay most of a payment then?”

My girl felt afraid. I growled at the woman, because I could only conclude that she was the source of CJ’s agitation. “Shush, Max,” CJ said, folding a hand over my nose. I growled through the hand.

“Friday you’ll be down another payment; that’s why I’m here. I’m sorry, CJ, but I’m going to have to ask you to either catch up or go. I have rent and bills myself.”

“No, I get it. Okay, I get it,” CJ said. She wiped her eyes.

“Do you have family? People you can turn to?”

CJ held me more tightly and I stopped baring my teeth at the woman. I could sense that CJ needed my comfort more than my protection.

“No. My dad died in a plane crash when I was little.”

“I’m so sorry to hear it.”

“I’ll move out. Thank you for your, for all of your patience. I promise I will pay you the money I owe you. I’m looking for a better job.”

“Just take care of yourself, dear. You look as if you haven’t eaten in a week.”

The woman left. CJ went into her apartment, carrying the piece of paper that the woman had handed her. CJ sat on her bed and when I whimpered she picked me up and set me down beside her and I climbed into her lap. She felt full of sadness and fear.

“I’ve become my mother,” she whispered.

A little while later, CJ stood up and started gathering her clothes and putting them into a suitcase. She fed me some cheese and gave me Sneakers’ food when Sneakers turned up her nose at it. Normally I would have been delighted with these wonderful treats, but there was something odd about the way CJ gave them to me, with a cold, detached gloom, that took some of the joy out of it.

CJ pulled out Sneakers’ crate and put all of Sneakers’ toys in it and also the cat’s bed. Sneakers watched all this without expression, while I paced around at CJ’s feet, feeling anxious. I felt better, though, when CJ clicked my leash onto my collar, picked up Sneakers and the crate, and went next door to Mrs. Minnick’s house. “Hi, Mrs. Minnick,” CJ said.

Mrs. Minnick held out her hands and took Sneakers, who was purring. “Hi, CJ,” she said.

“I have this huge favor to ask of you. I’m … I have to move. And where I’m going won’t take pets. So, I was wondering if you would watch Sneakers for a while? For maybe, always? She’s so happy here.”

Mrs. Minnick’s face broke into a huge smile. “Are you sure?” She held Sneakers out at arm’s length. “Sneakers?”

Sneakers stopped purring, because she did not like the way she was being held. I put a paw on CJ’s leg, because I was impatient to get going on our walk. Mrs. Minnick stepped back and CJ set the crate inside the door.

“All of her things are in there. Also a few cans of food, but she hasn’t been eating much lately.”

“Well, I’ve been feeding her over here.”

“I figured. Okay. Again, thanks so much.” CJ took a step forward, closer to Mrs. Minnick, who was holding and stroking the cat. “Sneakers. You are a good cat,” CJ said, pushing her face into the cat’s fur. Sneakers rubbed her head against CJ, purring. “Okay,” CJ whispered.

I whined anxiously at the grief pouring out of my girl.

Mrs. Minnick was watching CJ. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Oh yes. Sneakers, you are my favorite kitty; you be good.”

“You’ll come visit?” Mrs. Minnick asked uncertainly.

“Of course. Soon as I’m settled in the new place, I’ll come by. Okay? I have to go now. Bye-bye, Sneakers. I love you. Good-bye.”

The cat hopped out of Mrs. Minnick’s arms and trotted into the woman’s home. Sneakers was mostly a good cat, but she was making CJ sad and I didn’t like that.

After leaving Sneakers with Mrs. Minnick we went for a very strange walk. First I did my business in the snow, and then CJ picked me up and carried me and we walked and walked. I loved the way the warmth of her kept me snug and safe. CJ seemed really tired and sad, though, and I wondered where we could possibly be going.

Finally she stopped and let me down on the ground. I sniffed at the snow, not recognizing any of the scents. CJ knelt on both knees, leaning down to me. “Max.”

I licked her face and it brought the sadness back, which didn’t make much sense to me. Usually when I licked her it made her happy.

“You have been such a good, good dog. Okay? You have been the most wonderful dog a girl in the city could ever want. You protected me and took care of me. I love you, Max. Okay? No matter what happens, don’t ever forget how much I love you, because it’s true.” CJ was wiping her face, the tears flowing onto her hands. The sadness in her was so awful it made me afraid.

After a minute she stood, taking a breath. “Okay,” she said. She carried me a little farther and then some of the scents were familiar, and I knew we were going to see Trent. I felt a sense of relief—Trent would help CJ. Whatever was going on was beyond a dog’s understanding, but he would know what to do.

Trent opened his door. “God, what’s happened?” he asked. “Come in.”

“I can’t,” CJ said, standing in the hallway. “I’ve got to go. I need to go to the airport.” She set me down and I ran to Trent, leaping up and wagging. He reached down and patted my head, but he was looking at CJ.

“The airport?”

“It’s Gloria, she’s really sick, and I need to be there.”

“I’ll go with you,” Trent said.

“No, no, what I need, can you watch Max? Please? You’re the only other person in the whole world that he likes.”

“Sure,” Trent said slowly. “Max? You want to hang here for a few days?”

“I need to go,” my girl said. She did not seem any happier here with Trent.

“Want me to ride to the airport with you?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“You seem really upset, CJ.”

CJ took a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I’m okay. I guess I have some unreconciled … some stuff about Gloria. It doesn’t matter. I need to go.”

“What time’s your flight?”

“Trent,
please,
I can manage, okay? Just let me go.”

“Okay,” Trent said softly. “Say good-bye to CJ, Max.”

“We already…” CJ shook her head. “Okay, right. Bye, Max.” She dropped to one knee. “I love you. I’ll see you soon, okay? Bye, Max.” CJ stood. “Bye, Trent.”

They came together in a fierce hug. When they pulled apart, I could feel Trent being a little afraid. I looked around but didn’t see any threat. “CJ?” he asked her in a small voice.

She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “I have to go,” CJ said. She turned and I made to follow, but my leash pulled me up short. I barked at her, but CJ didn’t look back. She went straight to the little room with the double doors, and when they opened she stepped inside and turned and then, in one frozen moment, she finally looked at me. She met my eyes, then looked and gave a smile and a little wave to Trent. Even from there, I could see her tears, reflected in the harsh overhead lights of the little room. I barked again. Then the doors shut.

Trent picked me up and looked at me. “What’s really going on, huh, Max?” he whispered. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Now things were entirely different. I was staying in Trent’s house, which was bigger than where I lived with CJ. I still took dog walks, though—a woman named Annie came over every day with a happy fat yellow dog named Harvey and let herself into Trent’s house and took me with her. It was strange to me that her name was Annie, because my sisters at the place of the barking dogs had been Abby and Annie. I concluded that some people loved dogs so much they called themselves by dog names. Annie smelled like a lot of different cats and dogs, which seemed to confirm my theory. The first day she came over I rushed toward her, barking fiercely so that she’d know that I wasn’t intimidated by her Harvey, but Trent was there and snatched me up off the floor and then Annie reached for me and grabbed me out of Trent’s arms and I didn’t know what to do about that. Normally when I was snarling people didn’t hug me to their chests. She cooed to me and rocked me and I felt myself letting down my guard completely. CJ wasn’t there and didn’t need my protection, so maybe it was okay if I let Annie take certain liberties.

Annie and Harvey and I walked with other dogs, but Annie did it wrong—we didn’t stop to get Katie on the way, though we did stop for a dog named Zen, who was big but with very short legs and heavy ears that almost touched the ground. He looked very much like Barney, the dog who lived with Jennifer when Rocky and I were puppies. When I snarled at Zen he collapsed and rolled on his back and passively let me sniff him all over. I wouldn’t be getting any trouble from him. Less cooperative was a tall dog with curly hair named Jazzy. Jazzy didn’t want to play with me.

Trent only came home at night, usually carrying a bag of food that he would eat silently, standing in the kitchen. He seemed very tired and sad. He would hold his hands out to me and I smelled a lot of different things, but never once did I smell my girl.

“Oh, Max, you miss her, don’t you,” Trent said softly to me. I wagged to show that I had heard my name and that I liked it when he stroked the top of my head.

I was very fond of Trent and was sorry he didn’t have a dog, but I needed to be with CJ. I didn’t understand where she was and why she had left me here. Sometimes I would dream that she was there next to me, but when I opened my eyes I was always in Trent’s home, always alone.

Did CJ go back to live with Sneakers? Was that why she had been so sad? I had felt the same sort of sadness in Hannah when, as Buddy, I’d been taken to the Vet for the last time. It was a
good-bye
kind of sad. CJ, though, needed me in her life, which was why she kept coming for me every time I was a puppy. Nothing would ever change that, so whatever was keeping me apart from her, I knew it had to be temporary.

One afternoon when Annie and Harvey brought me back to Trent’s house, Trent was sitting in the living room. “Oh, hi!” Annie said. “Is this the day?”

“Yes,” Trent said.

Harvey sat on the threshold, waiting to be told it was okay to be let in. He was one of those dogs who were always looking to their people for permission for things. I could be that kind of dog, but CJ never asked it of me. “Okay, Harvey,” Annie said. Harvey came in and went over to see if I’d left any food for him in my bowl. I never did, but he checked every time, just in case.

Annie stooped and held her arms out to me, and I sheepishly went to her and let myself be cuddled, while Harvey stuck his big friendly nose in her face and got cuddled, too. “You have a good day today, Max.”

When Annie left, Harvey went with her without a backward glance.

“Look what I have for you here, Max,” Trent said. It was like a crate, only the sides were soft. Trent seemed really excited to show it to me. I sniffed it carefully. When I was Molly, the crate had been much bigger—but then again, so had I.

Thinking of being Molly and the disorienting trip I once took in a crate made me wonder if we were going to see CJ. When Trent told me to get into the soft crate, I went without complaint, though I could barely see out of a small mesh covering one end. It was a little disconcerting when he picked the whole thing up, so different from when people gathered me in their arms and lifted me off the ground.

We took a car ride, both Trent and I sitting in the backseat. I was frustrated that he didn’t let me out of the soft crate so I could look out the window and bark at any dogs I might see. The car was warm, though, which was nice compared to the windy, wet, cold air that flowed into the soft crate when Trent and I left his building.

We went into another building and I was disappointed because it wasn’t loud—it was quiet, hushed, even, though I could smell many people and chemicals. I couldn’t see much of what was happening, and the way Trent moved the soft crate while he walked with it made me a little dizzy.

Then we entered a small room and he set the crate down. “Hey,” he said softly. I heard a rustle.