Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
DOG
T his park is my favorite place ever. Dad and I used to come here at least a couple of times a week. We would walk the same path, and I would pee on the same trees every time. These trees were mine, marked with my scent (and pee), and every other dog that comes in here knows it.
Finishing my routine of marking my territory, I make my way back over to the beast to make sure he is also aware that this is my park.
“Komm. Fuss.” The familiar commands tug at my heart. Dad’s been the only person to use them. I walk back to Beast a bit slower, letting the memories of Dad play out.
“I know, I know, don’t judge me. I’ll eat better starting Monday,” Dad would say to me. By Tuesday, we were ordering pizza.
I jump up on the bench we would sit on while he tried to catch his breath during our walk. When will Dad be back? I’m not giving up. I know he’d never give up on me. I survey the park again. No Dad. Another place to mark off my “Where’s-Dad?” search list.
Beast calls for me again. I gotta hand it to him, the sweater is pretty cozy, but I’ll deny it if anyone asks. Maybe he’s not so bad? He does seem pretty helpful. And, okay, the whole bath thing was not as dramatic as I made it look. I am clean, I guess. Dad would’ve wanted me to be clean before going to the park. And Beast did keep me from going splat in the basement. I lift my head. What if I ask him to help me find Dad? My heart beats a little faster at the idea. I scramble off the bench and run back toward Beast, barking a friendly “hello.”
I smile.
Beast’s lips stretch, but he doesn’t show his teeth. He is so close to giving me a cheesy grin, I can feel it. I knew I would be able to help him. I hope he helps me, too. I wag my tail harder and give him my biggest bark.
Finally, for the first time today, I see his teeth as he pulls a round disk from behind his back. Wow, that was quick. Go me!
“Do you know how to fetch, Dog?” Beast flings the disc, and it goes flying across the grass. I look between him and where it landed. Tilting my head, I yip to explain that I’m a tennis ball kind of dog, not a flying disc dog. What do I look like? A cat?
Beast chuckles. “No? How about this?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the green tennis ball. My green tennis ball.
As my body shakes, I let my excited barks out.
New Plan. Ball. Bone. Dad. Nap.
Beast rears back and throws the ball. I take off at full speed, following the bright blur through the air to where it lands in the grass by the bushes. Maybe Beast and I are friends. Once he finds Dad, we can all come to the park. Yeah, I like that plan.
I pick up the ball and drop my friendship offering in front of Beast.
“Real friends throw balls for their friends,” I bark.
He throws it, and a full laugh comes out of his chest. It must feel as good as a big bark feels for me. I smile at Beast, turn, and take off.
“What a good boy,” rings through the night air behind me.