The Good in Boy and Bye

“Maddie, please wake up.” I nudged her fingers with my nose. The machine sounded alarmingly. I whimpered and Julie tugged me back. It was a gentle tug. Like that of an infant you’re trying not to break, although I wasn’t sure which of us was the infant. Something was wrong—and had been—for a while. I did not like this new home that had the stench of being over sterilized she had been living in. I did not like to have her so far away from me. “Can you come home now?” I asked quietly. Julie shushed me.

I turned back and looked up at her. She sat on the adjacent chair and glanced at the bed with listless eyes. 

There was movement beneath the sheets. Maddie’s eyes fluttered open, framed by deep laugh lines. They glistened with recognition. She stroke my head. “Hello you! Oh, how I’ve missed you! Have you been good with Julie?” I wagged my tail harder that I had ever before. “I missed you too,” I told her, happiest I had been in a while. I leaned deeper against Maddie’s wrinkled hand as she talked to Julie.

They both murmured in broken voices and it concerned me. Their eyes were watering, which often happened when something bad had occurred. I whimpered my concern. They embraced each other for a long while. I observed their similarities: the similar way their ears curved, the shape of their brows, the way they played with their lower lip while pondering all came back to mind. Julie resembled the old portrait that stood above the fireplace in Maddie’s home. A younger version of Maddie clad in a opulent, white dress. Mother and daughter.

I sensed unspoken things going between them, but I couldn’t understand. It lasted for a short eternity. And then we left. It was the last time I ever saw her. 

One night, the phone rang and Julie answered it. It was felt different than the other times. Her voice cracked, like the whip of willow branches. She rushed outside and did not came back until the morning. I sat on her couch and gazed outside. The thawing ice slushed by the sidewalk, wet and muddy from the dirty tires of cars that passed. I missed living with Maddie by the countryside, where she could let me loose and I could run free. I missed chasing balls and sticks she would feign to throw, only to laugh at my confusion. Mostly, I missed her so very, very much. 

I wasn’t yet used Julie’s place. I hadn’t found my spot yet, although I doubted there were a spot that could replace my closet. Maddie found it funny that I liked to sleep amongst her clothes and only allowed so whenever I bathed. And I hated baths so I didn’t get to sleep there that often. 

In truth, I liked the closet because of its smell. Maddie’s garden was her baby. She spent most days tending to it. It’s fragrant fragrances had seeped into every fabric, hints of mints and eucalyptus that grew beneath the trees that bordered our clearing and countless other floral scents that shot from the rich soil. Her favorites were the hyacinths; she planted them beneath every window, violet blooms that whooshed soothingly with the breeze. 

Julie came back and I ran towards the front door, peering at her. Her face was broken. My heart ached very much; I knew I would not see Maddie ever again. 

It took me very long to reconcile with the fact. It took even more time for Julie. She spent most her days upstairs, in her room which I had never been allowed to enter. I roamed the silent house alone.

Sometimes, in the evening, Julie would come down and pull out a tinted bottle from the fridge. I did not like it when she drank it. She would pour the dark liquid into an oddly shaped glass and stare at it for a while. Sometimes she would go back upstairs, while at others, she would sit in the living room and open the TV. After a few sips she might start laughing. I always kept to the other end of the couch, uneasy as to her unnatural giddiness. They never lasted long and Julie would always look worse afterwards, which make me dislike her happy juice. 

One day, Julie led me outside. It was springtime; the weather had started to become more warm. There was still some snow in her tiny backyard. It stood in stark contrast to her sombre attire, the white against the solid black. She stroke my head once, gently, and then returned inside. 

A while later, people started flooding in, gathering in black masses around the rooms. I peered in from the window. They murmured amongst each other. A few people I faintly recognized came out and patted me. “Poor thing,” they said, “She raised him since he was a pup, what will he do now?” I laid outside, unaware of the cold, for it was colder in my heart. 

The house was still silent after that. I figured it didn’t give Julie the closure it had been supposed to. She kept to herself, and with no other alternative, I did the same. 

Julie went away one day. When she came back, I was peering through the chiffon curtains in the living room. I saw her blue car as it rounded the curve, it’s shape reassuring. No matter how long anyone left, it was always too long. 

She came in several time, carrying big boxes that smelled familiar. I was unexplainably happy, the ways that we dogs are for the littlest things. I sniffed and jumped amongst them, my tail batting the boxes rhythmically. Julie batted me away and sat on the first stair leading up. She sat and leaned sideways against the wall, staring ahead without seeing. I noticed her face was red and puffy, the way it was when her eyes had been watering. Her eyes had watered again and I had not been there.

I rested my head between my paws, next to her leg. I looked up at Julie. “I miss her too,” I thought to her. 

I did not know what my human needed, but I would try to be enough.

After an eternity, Julie got up and started unboxing the things she brought in. I sat back and watched as she pulled out things that I recognized from Maddie’s home. It made me very happy.

After a while, I came closer, and when she didn’t push me back I stayed. There were the occasional moments where Julie would freeze in her movements. A box that played music when opened. A picture of Maddie with less wrinkles and a younger version of Julie. I would then avert my eyes from the boxes and gaze at her. Her face would crumple and her eyes would prepare to water. A few times they did. 

But I decided to only remember the time she smiled.

Julie had found the plastic pinwheel Maddie had kept above the fireplace. The plastic had been folded a little during the transport. It spun gently at Julie’s touch. 

Her eyes had also been watering that time—even harder that the previous times—but then, she had let out a choked sound, a horse croak that resembled a laugh. The edges of her lips shot upwards and her face lit into a smile, albeit a rusty one, due to lack of practice. A smile that had made me sleep well that evening.

Even after she resumed unboxing, I kept looking at her face. If I looked hard enough, I could still see her healing smile.

That evening, I walked around our home several times. Julie had placed various objects across the house and I liked to see them all. It made Julie laugh when I would sniff an object every time I passed it, and so I kept going on. She didn’t drink her happy juice that evening, which also made me glad.

After Julie had gone upstairs, and hovered around a bit more. I had been so preoccupied by Julie and only noticed the gaping hole within me. Missing Maddie was an ache that came and went, and right now, it came and would not go. I paced restlessly around the house, careful as to not make too much noise. 

From the corner of my eye, I caught a hold of a pattern of color, bright and familiar. Maddie’s billowy scarf. It stood out of the coat rack full of the dark clothes Julie wore all the time. It hung loosely and I tugged at it one single time. It fell to the floor soundlessly. I curled up on it, and it eased that ache. I felt a little bit better before drifting into the darkness. 

I woke up to Julie shuffling upstairs and opened my eyes the slightest bit. The sun was still low and every shadow in the living room was elongated, like long limbed monsters. But I was home and nothing could hurt me, so I closed my eyes again. It felt good surrounded by Maddie’s old scarf and I did not want to make that feeling go away. 

Julie made her way down the stairs. Her footstep were light and it made me happier. I listened to them and imagined her coming down, rounding the corner. Then there was a silence before she started screaming. I opened my eyes to see her running towards me. 

“How dare you, you stupid dog! What have you done,” she yelled as she yanked the scarf from under me. “What have you done!” She struggled with her words while I struggled to get away. 

“No, I didn’t do anything. I just really miss her,” I cried. “I wasn’t bad, I swear.” 

Julie was wordless in her fury, which scared me greatly. I shuddered and tried to hide from her. I didn’t know what I had done wrong. She grabbed things and hurled them at me. 

“Why am I stuck with you? Why did she leave you? Why didn’t you die instead?”

I tried hiding behind the chairs, the table, shuffling between the wooden legs. The books she threw were heavy and hurt very much. But mostly, I was confused. I didn’t fully understand why she was mad. I had no where to hide anymore and retreated in a corner. I buried my head in it, unable to look up anymore. I shuddered and flinched, awaiting her next blow. The last book hit me on the head. I was so disoriented. “I wasn’t a bad boy, Julie! Please!” I whimpered silently. 

I stood there for the longest of times, hiding my face in my paws. I was so sad and confused. 

Julie had left and sat on the kitchen floor, cradling the bundled scarf in her arms, sobbing and muttering to herself. I didn’t dare approach her as I had angered her. 

After a while she approached and sat beside me. I was scared and tried to make myself smaller into the corner. Tried to make myself disappear within its walls. 

She was still sobbing. “I’m so sorry.” She tried to touch me. I flinched, trembling uncontrollably, still unable to meet her eyes. 

“What have I done.” Her voice broke even more. She brought her knees into her arms and cried loudly.

After a while, my love for her took over. I scuttled next to her gingerly, still mildly fearful of her earlier fury. I licked her face, once, to let her know. Her tears tasted salty and I only made her face more wet. “I forgive you,” I thought to her. “I forgive you. And I will always love you.” 

The next day, Julie brought me upstairs, in her room. It was my first time up there, and I ran around, sniffing at everything. Julie disappeared behind the other door. She lead me through it when she came back. It was a bathroom and the bath was full. 

I hated baths, but Julie coaxed me in the water. I tried to stay very still and indulged her because she was trying so hard. She had brought a few of my toys in the tub and was making squawking noises with my rubber duck. It made me happy even though I was wet and my fur was dripping.

The other day, I was inspecting the kitchen countertop. Julie had been cooking a lot more these days. Sometimes, she even hummed while being at it, which reminded me of Maddie when she was gardening. Fragrant aromas also rose from her work, tickling my nostrils and my stomach. If she was tired, she would leave debris of her work behind, and would come and clean them up, unbeknownst to her. 

I was trying to reach forgotten cookie crumbs. Julie would not let me eat any sweets she baked. “Too sweet for you,” she would say. “We wouldn’t want you to get diabetes, wouldn’t we.” 

In my haste, I knocked over the amber-tinted bottle. It fell to the floor with a sickening crash, exploding into a thousands scattered pieces, dark liquid pooling over the polished tiles. Julie hurried down amidst the chaos.

I tried to hide. She would be mad again, just like with the scarf. I huddled into a corner. “I didn’t mean it, Julie.”

She simply stood there for a while. “The calm before the storm,” I thought dreadingly. I couldn’t look at her; I could only await her storm. 

But she didn’t. She stepped over, avoiding the glistening shards. Her footsteps were light, nothing like her furious stomping. I dared to look up. She was laughing silently. She stroke my head and kissed my forehead, right between the ears. 

Julie then stood up. She opened the fridge and took out several similar bottle. She carried every thing out into the yard.

To my surprise, she opened every single one of them and poured them into the ground. Their content stained the grass a glistening ruby red—deep and rich—before seeping into the earth. Her happy juice had finally done its job; I believed Julie was the happiest she had been for a while. 

Summer was beginning to take over. Its presence could be felt in the budding leaves and greening treetops, all around the neighborhood.

But summer also came into Julie’s heart. She livened up and I, with her. She started to take me out around outside more often. When the weather grew hotter she took me to the beach and laughed when I ran away from the approaching waves. Sometimes she rode around her bike and I would run after her, panting and happy. I couldn’t run much these days, no matter how hard I tried. My joints ached from all the years of use, and I was laziest that I had ever been. I tried nonetheless to not let it impede our shared happiness. She smiled a lot more during those times, and her eyes didn’t water anymore. It was a good time.

In the evening, I liked to lay on the porch, under the rocking chair. These days I was often tired. Sometimes, I saw things that weren’t quite there. Other times, I didn’t see the things that were quite there. I would close my eyes, as memories flashed behind my heavy lids. It had been a good life, I thought. 

At times the light was too blinding, or the smells, overwhelming. There would be hyacinth and mints; every plant Maddie sowed in early spring and bloomed in summer, their aromas would come tickle my nose. I would hear her soft footsteps, almost silent on the earth. And then, without my knowing, I would find myself in a place devoid of senses. A dark place, yet not scary. Simply calm. I would float around, like sleeping, but not quite.

And finally, I would find myself on the porch again. Like so, I drifted in and out of the darkness, not really leaning towards either life, nor it. 

Julie would join me before the evening and we would watch the sun bleed over the neighborhood, outlining the houses with scarlet and ashen shadows. The last moments of summer were fleeting. I didn’t feel the days getting shorter, for my senses were eroded. “But it was okay,” I thought, “I was okay with it.”

Julie had been reading and the chair rocked back and forth soothingly. It was a particularly beautiful sunset, scarlet with hints of lilac smeared across the sky. Somehow, I mustered the strength to get up from my spot and commute towards the stairs. I sat there and gazed and the sun’s beautiful death. It fell behind the horizon, where the heavens met the earth. A promise of the dawn to come, and with it, new beginnings and everything that tomorrow was to bring. 

Julie sat beside me and attempted to tug me into her jacket as the evenings were starting to become frisky. I leaned my head on her legs and closed my eyes. And just like that, I drifted away with the last summer breeze.