Author Games: Circle

Task Seven | Bartholomew Haroldson

I am such a good boy.

That's what Max used to tell me. Every single day. When he came home from school, when he came home from work, at dinner time, even before bed. We were connected, Max and I. He was like the poor, deformed brother from my litter and I was his protector. Don't get me wrong, for a human he tried his best to be a good dog. He was never able to grow a real coat and his tail is still in the wrong place, but I always knew deep in my heart he did his best. Although I'd never tell him, I'm pretty sure that if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have made it this far. He was pretty helpless. Couldn't chase away the birds, or dig up the moles in the flower bed, and he always let strangers leave boxes in front of my old door flap. Max really liked boxes. I liked the chewy foam nuggets they sent with them.

But Max isn't here now.

And that's okay.

The smell of grass and dirt clings to my coat as I run. It's more of a waddle at a fast pace— I'm much older than I once was and I can definitely feel the strength in my body beginning to fade out. I've got a couple more years in me, I know, but chasing and playing are so much more difficult than I remember them being before. That doesn't stop me, though, from following the sound of laughter with my tongue flapping against the side of my cheek.

"Catch me, puppy! Catch me!" The humans' pup is much faster than me. It's not because of my age or my weight, it's these tiny legs. Don't listen to anything anyone else has to say about it. She stops, looking back at me with a smile as I pant and struggle to reach her. The pup smells like ham sandwiches and pizza. She drops to her knees, holding her arms out to catch me, but she never gives me enough time to stop. My feet skid against the slick, dewy grass. I plow into her, sending both of us spiralling over the earth. Finally, I have her caught and I can lick the remnants of picnic food and sweets off of her face.

Her laughter brings the others, two more girl pups that surround me. It was a trap! My surprise quickly fades underneath the furious rubs and pats. They shower me in kisses and nuzzle against my neck. "Who's a good boy?" they ask. "Is it you? Is it you?" My tail wags furiously, tongue still lolled out of my mouth as I but my head against theirs. The sunshine feels good on my back, the sounds and smells of the park and the pups around me filling my heart up with delight. Trees and fields stretch farther than I can see, other people with their dogs running on paths or sitting beneath trees. They all look so happy to belong with their humans. I'm happy too—even if I haven't found my humans quite yet.

Released at last from the many hands of the pups, their giggles float in the air like bubbles. The littlest one pulls on my collar, trying to turn me around with all of her strength. "Come on, pup pup!" I follow her without protest, smiling up at her round face. "Follow me," she says, and I do. She doesn't run like the others do, her legs are little like mine. I have no trouble keeping up with her.

We walk together up to the picnic blanket underneath the big tree in the park. Her legs bump into mine every so often but I don't mind. She's my favorite of all the human pups. The blanket is soft underneath my feet and I settle down onto it with great content. An older woman comes at sits beside me. She's the mother of the three young ones and she scratches my head in all the right places.

"What do you guys think about Barth?" she asks as the girls settle down on the blanket in front of us. A chorus of tiny voices goes up all around.

"He's great!"

"We could dress him up!"

"Can we keep him, mom? Please? Pretty please?"

I roll onto my belly, welcoming the gentle pats on my ribs. Their mother chuckles. "You know, he's an old boy. We might not have him for very long." I yawn, letting my eyes close for a moment while they talk.

"That's okay!"

"Yeah, we'll take good care of him! That way he lives forever!"

More pets, and I start to grow drowsy "We'll see," the mother says. I like those words. They're easy to doze off to.

When I wake up, the blanket is empty. The pups are playing again with their mother along side them. I yawn and stretch, pulling myself to my feet. An itch behind my ear is vanquished by my quick scratches. I breathe in deeply and a familiar smell twitches my ears and makes my body shiver. Old coffee and raindrops and something new that makes my nose cringe.

I raise my nose to the air, trying to pull in more of the smell as I follow it. With every step, it gets stronger, until I see the bench seated across the walking path. Max looks different now. His hair is a different color, and he's thinner than before, but I know his smell. I could recognize it from a million miles away. He's looking at me, a piece of lit paper burning down between his fingers. That's where the bad smell is coming from. I realize it, but he doesn't. He's just looking at me. I settle back on my heels until I'm comfortable enough to sit. Max doesn't say anything at all, but his eyes narrow as if he's trying to remember.

"Barth! Where are you, boy?" The cry of one of the pups breaks the silence. My head turns on instinct, looking back at her from where she stands on the hill. Even from here, I can see her smile. Her hands cup her mouth as she calls back behind her. "I found him, Mom! He's good! I'll keep an eye on him!"

The bench shifts and my eyes a drawn back to Max. He leans forward, dropping the burning paper in the grass. "Barth?" he whispers. My heart lurches, trying to pull me to my feet, but I settle back down. Is this a second chance? I look all around, but I can't see the woman. "Is that you, boy?"

Guilt floods my body. How can I be here, with another family, trying to find a new home, when Max is right there? Am I just supposed to forget about him? For a moment, I imagine what it would be like if I walked over. If I put my head in his lap and showed him that I was still his good boy. Nobody elses. We could leave this park together, just like I wanted so long ago. He seems to want that too, his body leans so far off the bench that I worry he might fall. "C'mere, boy." I start to stand, eager to listen, but when I look at his face, something is different. The love I used to feel isn't the same as it once was. Used to, when I saw Max I couldn't contain my excitement. Now, beneath the guilt, there's not that same sort of devotion. He is a stranger to me, someone from a million lifetimes ago. Something bitter gnaws at my gut and I realize:

Maybe I don't want to give him another chance.

There's hope for me, but it's not with Max. It's with someone new. Someone who doesn't make me feel afraid. I looked back at the shining sun and the wet grass and the laughter of the three pups that were so eager to love me. That is where I'm meant to be.

If only I had realized it sooner. Maybe I would be there now.