Sober Eyes

where are you

Being in love with you seems like a really bad idea ...    - pxzvc

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The day I got rescued from the pound was beautiful, I first thought. I thought that it meant I was to be loved, that the love inside me would be shared with an owner, or even another dog. I wasn't wrong, that is what happened, but not how I wanted it to be.

My owner was a large person, very tall to me, so I was scared of first. I thought I was a big dog. Not a tall one, but a big one, and then this owner comes in, and I cowered in the back. I had to stretch my neck to look up, which hurt a little, since I was so used to looking down. There was a smile I saw, and I wagged. Only a little, and that smile grew. He had hazel eyes.

I have a hazel eye. The other is blue. The owner had a blue leash. It was perfect.

He touched me, on the neck and on the back and my fur stood up. I felt a cold go through my body even though my fur is warm, and I barked. He stepped back, a little startled, but my tail was wagging so it was okay and he understood.

He carried me to the car. I can walk fine, really, but I do not like to. I like to observe, to see the things others cannot see, for I am grateful of my two eyes. His hands were strong and rough but his demeanor was soft so I did not complain. He put me in the back seat, and put a harness on me. I did not like it, but it meant he cared, so I only growled very softly.

It was a long time before I got out of that car. He rolled down the window halfway through the trip and I could scent things I have only heard of in whispers. I looked and saw trees, trees! There were no trees where I used to live, only concrete and hard grass and occasionally tall shrubs. I only went to the park once every year. My mother used to tell me about trees and nature and rivers and love before she was put down.

I smiled, as dogs do, and stayed like that for a while. I saw a bird, I think, and barked. He laughed. That amazing, rumbling laugh that made the air frizzle and light everything up. I loved that laugh from the first time I heard it. He drove me through those trees into more trees, and then we were in a forest. The middle of a forest of pines and cedars, with hot air that enticed adventure and excitement.

I am an old dog. Fourteen, almost fifteen. I was old and had seen much and done much. I had mothered three litters and only one had my eyes, but he died after only a few days. I cried a lot, and my puppies had to be taken away because I could not nurse. That was my last litter. I brought in a lot of money because of my puppies, which is why I was not adopted in that time.

On that first day he took me home, my jaw hurt from smiling. I couldn't stop, even when I stepped on a pine needle and he had to get it out of my soft paw that had never touched the true wilderness I was now in. I had jumped out of the car and did not look where I was going, and I did not even notice the needle until he saw me sort of limping.

I looked around, and that day was the most beautiful I have ever experienced. I walked into the cabin onto the surprisingly hard floors, and I stopped in my tracks and did not move. He carried in a basket full of dog toys and treats as well as food and other necessities and put them down on a table. He looked back at me and laughed again. He kept smiling, too, which made me smile more, which made him smile more, and we stayed there for a while, just smiling.

He eventually walked over and nudged me in, to which I obliged and trotted in. It was a cozy place, with a second floor that I could not go up for the first few weeks. Right before he adopted me I had gotten surgery to fix my front leg, which I had broken while trying to jump down from a ledge. I was so excited about this new place, with the fireplace of sweet old-burned wood and the room where I was to stay in.

He was tired, so I let him rest in front of the fireplace. He sat on the ground and hugged me, with his big arms that knew what hard work was and I leaned onto his chest which rose and fell like the recurrent ripples in a bowl of water. I fell asleep with the sound of his breath in the air and the feeling of someone who loved me more than they loved themselves.

It took me a few months to get used to this new place, and during that time I found out what kind of owner he was. He was generous and smart and knew what I needed when I needed it, so he must have had dogs before me. I knew that for a fact, since some of the old toys he gave me smelled liked other dogs that had long since passed.

After about a year I noticed changes with him. He wouldn't go out as often and for days at a time he would just sit with me outside. There was a path that lead to a hill overlooking a lake, and he used to get out his pencil and book and draw while humming some tune to a song I never learned. I loved the first year I was with him. I loved it so much and it was the best time I ever had, like I had been rewarded for still being alive after all this time after everything I had been through. I slowly forgot those fourteen years when I was in the city, and after a while I forgot how old I even was.

But all good things end, even if that good thing lasted for only a short while.

He went out one day, giving me a smile and pat as he left the door, telling me to Stay safe and Be happy! while he is gone. I had this feeling, a bad feeling, the same feeling I got before a pup died or before a kennel mate was taken out of their cage. I whined and barked, I cried and tried telling him not to leave but he just smiled and said that it was okay, that he was going to come back. He said he loved me and closed the door, looking at my eyes until he couldn't anymore, and I continued to cry. I jumped on the couch, I ran up the stairs, I looked out all of the windows and even tried opening the back door. I needed to see him, I needed to let him know that it was not safe for him out there that day. It was the worst day of my life because I thought that he would leave, leave forever and never come back. I could not live without him or his smile or his eyes or his laugh or the way he furrowed his eyes and bit his lip when reading the newspaper while clicking his tongue at the words. I wore myself out, doing all of that barking and running and crying, so I soon fell asleep at the door, the door which blocked his eyes that expressed his love for mine.

I don't remember the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after that day and the cycle continued. I dreamed of him, of him still being with me, and sometimes I was sane for a few hours and saw that he was still there, and that he hadn't left forever.

I did not think for a moment that it was me that would leave.

He realized I could not remember things as clearly as I used to. I would eat and then beg him for more and after he poured the kibble in my bowl I would already be at the door, scratching to be let out for my morning walk even though it was almost night.

One time I was laying down and I could faintly hear him crying while talking to someone on the phone. I tried lifting up my head and then forgot why, and looked back down at the floor and sighed, because once again I thought he had forgotten to give me food.

I faintly remember him lifting me up and carrying me to that same car that was used to drive me to him, to that new life that I shortly lived, and he put me in the front seat this time. I cried, but I forgot why I cried, so I cried more because I could not remember anything.

He brought me into a place that was new to me even though I had been there many times throughout my life, and all the other people who were not him knew my name. What is my name? I remembered thinking as I was carried by another person onto a table. It was so bright, and my vision had faded, so all I could see was the bright light around me and the faint hum of conversation seemingly far away. 

I could hear the crying of someone and I wanted to see who they were, to ask them why they were so sad. I heard many people crying, not just one, and I wanted to see how many there were. I faintly cried with them, but after a while it faded away along with the rest of the things I could do, and I tried closing my eyes. I couldn't, because I forgot how and I forgot what I was and where anything was, and I stayed like that for a while as I slowly felt that feeling of death increasing in its intensity. I sighed.

"Stay safe," he said. "Be happy."

And I was happy.