A New Life

Puppies

My first years at the warehouse were bad ones. My favorite time of day was when I would come to my apartment(I had enough money to rent a room now) and my puppy I had adopted a while ago would jump all over me. I would take him for a walk down to his trainer's field, and watch for an hour. Leaving him there, I would pick up some money from Arnold and buy some food to cook over at my house. Then I would bring my dog home, and in half an hour we would sit around chewing on the cold meat from a paper bag Arnold had microwaved in case of an emergency(I still burn my food-I can't cook with a metal arm!)

I named my puppy Salty, and he's training to be a sheepdog. I have this secret ambition that when I get enough money I'll go back to my family's business, farming, and I'll need a sheepdog then. He already learned how to intimidate the sheep to obey him, and now he's learning how to herd them. I feel bad about leaving Arnold and making him earn all of his own money, but I get to choose what to do with my life, right?

Salty's a white and grey puppy, long haired and shaggy. He always has so much energy and is extremely fast. I didn't tell Arnold about him, for I'm too afraid he'll turn him into a police dog once I become a policeman.

Salty likes chewing on my cold metal fingers when the days are hot. He seems to understand that my arm is a fault, and most other people do not have it, but he still loves me for it. At night he avoids it, however, because it is too cold. He also seems to think that I cannot defend myself very well, because of my arm. He is very protective and will stop at nothing to keep me from harm.

One day Arnold came over to my house to say hello. I put Salty in my bedroom, but I forgot to lock the door and barricade it from outside. Big mistake. Salty simply took the key, turned the doorknob using his mouth, and quietly followed me down the hall and toward the front door. I opened it and Arnold stepped inside. Instantly Salty disliked him and growled deeply. As Arnold sat on the couch Salty could stand it no longer and jumped at Arnold, showing where he was. With effort I pulled Salty off of Arnold and held him firmly.

"I would like to apologize Arnold. Salty does not know you."

Arnold stared at the growling and struggling beast in my arms with amazement. "You've been keeping a dog here."

I took a firmer grip on the collar. "Yea. I know I didn't tell you, but I have reasons."

Still frightened, Arnold asked, "And what might those be?"

I saw I could not hide it from Arnold anymore. "I want to be a farmer, and Salty will be my sheepdog. I don't want him to be a police dog, and I don't want to be a policeman. Do you understand?"

He stared at me in disbelief. "You-a farmer. Where did this idea come into your head? I thought we made an agreement for you to be a policeman."

"That wasn't a permanent agreement. I want to go into the family business. We raised sheep, and had sheepdogs to keep them in line. This is my first sheepdog."

"You do realize that you're going to need fields, be able to buy sheep, and feed the animals you take care of, right? Where are you going to get all that?"

"I think I have an idea."

The next morning I telephoned the sheepdog trainer. Long ago he had seen that I had chosen a good sheepdog, and offered to pay the expenses if I would work in one of his fields. You see, his sheepdog was too old and sick, and he had no idea where to get a new one. Gladly I took the offer, and he even gave me a farmhouse to live in.

Naturally Arnold hated my decision. He had saved my life, and now I was just going to throw it away to be an ordinary, plain farmer who took care of sheep? Certainly not! He knew I was special, seeing how I've been alive for three hundred years. What would I do later when Salty died and I had no more sheepdog?

I did not tell Arnold that I had chosen Salty because I had recognized him. One of my father's female dogs had given birth to Salty three days before I became sick. If Salty had already lived for three hundred years, why would he die?

Now came the hard part, and for two years Arnold would pester me. He went to court several times, and sent threatening letters many times, but I remained firm. I forgave him for every time he did anything annoying, for Arnold had save me from death.