Winter Rose

III. Pickle

Let me take a brief moment to tell you something about dogs that you didn't know. Since I am a dog, you're hearing it from a trustworthy source.

Dogs have three ways of talking to each other. The first two are well known by most dog lovers—barking and stances.

Barking is reserved primarily for getting strong points across like—I'm excited, intruder, or mine!

Stances, like tail wagging, crouching, and barring teeth are used to show emotions like–I'm happy, or I'm scared.

The third route is unknown to humans—and by far the most annoying. It's a transfer of thoughts that dogs can perform when they're at close range with each other. Thoughts can be projected willingly, or they can also be plucked from one's mind without permission, if the receiver puts in enough effort. 

Why is that so annoying, you ask? Keep in mind that most dogs have the brains of a two year old at best, so these thoughts are simple and blunt—and did I mention repetitive and easily distracted?

That brings us back to the moment where Winter's father stepped into the room, and I realized I was comically reliving my past in the body of a dog.

I was in the middle of trying to wrap my head around that ridiculous concept, when I realized my siblings had suddenly gathered around me. They stared quietly; heads tilted, ears forward, trying to read my thoughts. Pushing them aside, my dog mother stepped slowly towards me, her paw lifted slightly, and touched her nose to mine.

Pickle is a dog. she projected, and stepped back to stare at me quizzically with brown, piercing eyes.

No, I'm a grown man, trapped inside a dog's body.

She snorted and walked away. I knew it was hopeless to try to explain.

My mother and siblings had already picked up on the fact that there was something very strange about me. My complex thoughts confused them. After several attempts to share thoughts with me, they'd all but given up and no longer tried unless it was absolutely necessary.

My sibling's ears tilted forward at my reply. They continued to stare, heads cocked—bewildered.

"Look at the way they're all staring at Pickle!" Winter exclaimed. She lowered herself to her knees and scratched the fluffy white fur on my chest, triggering a little thrill that spread itself all the way to my uncontrollably wagging tail.

"Looks like the runt is becoming the pack leader." Mr. Rose marveled, scratching his balding head. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

He reached down and pulled a handful of treats from his worn jean pocket. My siblings' fascination with my thoughts broke instantly.

Mine! Mine! they yelped, as they tumbled over each other to reach him.

No, mine! barked my greedy dog mother, pushing her pups aside in order to sit politely in front of the man with the treats.

I sighed inwardly. Some things never change. It seemed my dog mother resembled my human mother in more ways than one. She had the natural instincts to protect her pups, but she also made sure she got what she wanted–even if it meant trampling them.

After delivering the treats, Mr. Rose turned his attention towards Winter. He motioned for her to sit down with him on a wooden bench that sat against the window.

"Listen, I want to talk to you about that boy, Sheldon." He leaned forward, focused on his hands in his lap.

My ears shot forward as I heard my name. Filled with curiosity, I scrambled closer to listen in.

Mr. Rose mistook my interest for begging, and held out a treat for me. Reluctantly, I took it; only to avoid side-tracking the conversation that was about to occur. Laying on my fat stomach, I forced myself to nibble it. It tasted like sand.

"I've noticed that you're spending a lot of time with to him," Mr. Rose pointed out, pushing up his thick glasses with a finger. He looked uncomfortable as he searched for the right words . "I've known boys like him, and he's not the type I want you getting involved with."

What was that supposed to mean, boys like him? I choked down the rest of the biscuit, mulling over his words.

Mr. Rose sighed, and glanced out of the window. Dusk had set in, and the sound of crickets echoed peacefully in the woods. I leaned forward in anticipation, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm regretting my decision to let him stay here." As if deciding his last words were a little too harsh, he groaned and lowered his head into his hands. "I know what you're thinking, no boy will ever be right for my only daughter," he said, his voice suddenly drenched with emotion." And your probably right. But, there's something about that boy that's just night right. It's times like these, I could really use your mother."

Winter smiled sadly at him, and put her small hand in his. "Don't worry Daddy, there's nothing going on between me and Sheldon."

I sat back on my haunches, eyeing her. So—she was capable of lying after all. Interesting. A side of Winter I'd never seen.

She flipped her long braid behind her back, and stroked Winnie's head as the pup tried unsuccessfully to crawl up her thin legs to get to her lap.

"Besides." She looked sideways at him through long lashes. "You and I are in this thing together. I don't have time for dating when there're so many animals to save."

"I hope we made the right decision about this place." Mr. Rose said, his eyes glazed with tears. "The donations are never enough."

Winter picked up Winnie, and held her close. "This is Mama's dream. It's what she would have wanted," she reminded him. "Every animal that's saved here becomes a part of her legacy."

A feeling of warmth spread over me at the passion in Winter's words. There was the girl I remembered. She was drawn to damaged things. Always with the bright hope that everything could be fixed with the right amount of compassion.

That's what drove her to talk her father into letting me stay on the refuge as a hired hand. She'd seen me for what I was—a broken human being. She'd thought she could fix me.

A slight movement outside jerked me out of my thoughts. My eyes flew to the window behind the bench where they sat. Somewhere close, the grating screech of an owl pierced my ears.  A shadow was there for a second, then gone. A chill spread through me so fast, I let out a shrill yelp.

My dog mother sat at attention, ears forward. A low growl rolled out of her chest, her eyes on the window.

Danger! she projected.