A Dog Named Saint

Chapter One - Saint

An old dog once said that there's really only one way to live life and that's to find the one person in the world who needs you the most. Sometimes it takes a few tries before you find them and, in the end, they may just find you first. If I had to describe my life, I would say it's one I've lived without regret. I have seen many places, I have made many friends, and I have had more owners than I can count. Yet I remember each and every one of them in detail. As a dog we are expected to love without question and to be loved back unconditionally. Unfortunately, for some of us, it doesn't always work out that way. 

I started out born into the litter of a stray near the empty streets of Tangipahoa Parrish. We had a small room in an abandoned warehouse just outside the city. Humans no longer occupied the space, but there were a few wanderers every now and then. I remember opening my eyes to a bright light and the smell of cypress and fresh water. I knew the creature staring down at me was my own mother. How I knew that I'll never know, but it may have had to do with the fact that she began licking my face clean without permission. From what little I can recall I had three older sisters and a little brother. My little brother. He was a tiny little thing. Not even half the size I was and barely able to keep his eyes open. He didn't last very long after birth. He made one little noise, shook his head from side to side as my mother tried to lick him clean before the silence fell over him. He didn't stir again. I remember the significant whines coming from my sisters as they too begged for my mother's attention. Instead, I watched silently as she continued licking him over and over again hoping for some sort of movement before finally accepting what had happened. I never had a chance to know my little brother, but I would never forget the first and last sound he made that night. The fear of the unknown and not even having a chance to open his eyes to see the world around him. To see his own family. To know that he too was a dog. I didn't even know his name, not that I even knew mine at the time, but still he deserved a name. 

As I grew so did my curiosity. Ine late night upon getting lost during a game of tag I found a room I had never been in before. There were many items covered in sheets and dust. One item was uncovered just enough for the streetlamp to catch and provide the slightest reflection of light onto the ceiling above me. The twinkling lights flickered one by one, and I remember standing there quiet and still watching as they danced along the ceiling. Before I knew it my mother had come rushing in along with my sisters. She insisted I follow her, but my curiosity only pulled me in deeper as I used my teeth to grab hold of the edge of the blanket covering the mysterious item and pulled. She gave a slight growl in warning, but I couldn't help myself. Soon enough the blanket fell away and piled on top of me. I quickly made my way out of the cocoon and when I emerged, I saw the most peculiar thing. At first, I thought it was another puppy ready to play. I spent a good ten minutes trying to get the other puppy to play with me, but they seemed to only mimic my moves and yips. After a while I grew frustrated and decided to attack with my mighty paws. The end result was that I slammed my face into the mirror and after sitting their dazed and shaking my head only then I realize that I had been staring at myself the entire time. My mother gave a huff as if she were laughing and headed downstairs with my sisters leaving me alone once again. 

I must admit while I was disappointed, I couldn't help but stare at my reflection. I noticed things about myself I don't think I ever would have had I not found the mirror in the first place. For one I was tiny and looked nothing at all like my mother. My mother's face was more flattened as were my sisters while my snout was much longer and slimmer. Her legs were short and yet mine seemed to grow at such an alarming rate that I knew I would soon pass her up in height. Little things that I knew didn't seem important, but the longer I stared the more I realized I was different. Why did I look different? I spent the rest of the night watching my family. My sisters all behaved in the same fashion of fighting over the last piece of meat, grooming one another to keep clean, and even spending a majority of the night yipping away at one another until my mother grew tired and forced them to bed. Would I look anything like her when I grew to be her age? Would my little brother have grown up to look like me or would he too have looked like my mother?  I spent many nights watching the twinkling lights that reflected off of that same mirror and onto the ceiling.