Filling the Void

“Come on Allen, you’ve got this, just one… more… rep! Great job, Champ! How do you feel,” Clint, Allen’s personal trainer asked him after he had pushed through his fifth push-up.

Allen lay there on the mat, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. “Weak. Tired. Sore.”

“That’s good, you’re feeling it. That means it’s working. Let’s do some lunges!”

Allen sat up and looked around the gym as he calmed his breathing. People were looking and talking, shaking their heads, and laughing.

What am I doing, he thought. Look at all these perfectly sculpted people with their tight abs and bulging muscles. I don’t belong here. This is embarrassing.

“You know what, Clint, I think I’ve had enough. This isn’t for me.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Clint said with a chuckle. “We all have to start somewhere. I’m sure I can help you reach your goals. You just have to block everyone out, get focused.”

“Easier said than done, Clint,” and Allen left the gym with his head hung low.

I’ve tried doing this on my own and I can’t stay motivated. This place advertised a judgement free zone, but I was in there less than thirty minutes and got laughed out. Dieting alone isn’t cutting it and without seeing results, I should just give up, Allen thought as he drove away and that’s exactly what he did. He stopped for some fast-food on the way home, like an alcoholic returning to the bottle.

For Allen, food was comfort, food was love, food was entertainment. All the voids in Allen’s life since his wife took everything and threw him out were filled by eating. Once a lean one-seventy before she left him, he is now a robust three-ten that puts a strain on his five-eleven frame. If it were not for the beautiful and enchanting Caitlyn Wilcox at work, Allen would never have bothered trying to get back into shape. Now he feels his chances of losing weight are as good as getting a date with Caitlyn.

Caitlyn is the new young brunette from work that treats Allen halfway decent. She goes out of her way to talk to him and invites him out after work with everyone else when no one else invites him. Allen would love to go but knows he’s not welcome. His coworkers treat him like some sort of pariah they don’t want to be associated with, so he always gracefully declines, making up some tired excuse as to why he can’t go.

Allen ordered himself two double cheeseburgers with a large order of fries and a large cherry coke. He took his food outside to the patio despite the chill in the air, wanting to avoid prying eyes watching him drown his sorrows in high-calorie fat. He felt defeated and knew food wasn’t the answer, but he longed for the calming high he got from a full stomach.

This is where I come in. I had been lurking around the parking lot, the smell of grilled meat beckoning to me like a princess to her prince. I was about to give up my search for this allusive smell when I spotted him sitting alone at a patio table. I walked over to him and sat down, patiently waiting for him to offer me something to eat while my stomach growled, and my mouth salivated.

“Hey buddy, look at you,” he said in a few octaves higher than he normally speaks. “You want something to eat. Those ribs are poking out your side something horrible.”

I inched closer in anticipation as he pulled a patty off one of his burgers. He offered it to me, and I gently took it. The charbroiled taste exploded in my mouth and the aching in my stomach alleviated. I couldn’t have been more grateful. I nuzzled up against his leg to thank him. It was the first thing I had to eat in two weeks.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you,” he said as he rustled my ears, which felt good. “And handsome too. What are you, a pit-bull?”

The handsome part was true. I am very handsome. But I’m not sure what a pit-bull is.

“Yeah, you just need some nourishment and a bath. Then you’ll be as good as new,” he said as he gave me the other patty from the burger.

I woofed that down, surprised that he was giving me seconds. I guess he realized he wasn’t all that hungry because he took the tray and sat it on the ground letting me have all of it. I was pretty sure I just made a friend worth keeping. When he got up to leave, I followed. When we got to the car, he opened the door and said, “Come on, let’s go.” He didn’t have to ask me twice. It was nice and warm in there, but he rolled down the window and it was like a magical world opened up before my nose. I have never taken in so many places at once. And the wind in my face was a rush. I was moving so fast.

Before going back to his place, he took me to some store that smelled wonderful.

He found something to put on my neck. It felt a little weird, but hey, the guy feeds me, so whatever, right. He bought a ton of stuff including this huge bone I found. I carried it through the store. The thing was as long as I was with two giant knots at the end. It was glorious. To think a few minutes prior I was homeless, alone, and hungry. Now I have a full belly, a friend, and this monstrosity that is the envy of every dog in the store.

We got home and he says, “bath time” in an excited tone. I thought he meant play. I made him chase me into the bedroom where I jumped on his bed and spun around.

“Oh, no, it’s not play time. You smell like deer droppings and ham salad. You’re taking a bath,” he said, lunging at me. I was too fast and ran for the living room.

He caught me there and put me between his legs and guided me towards the bathroom by the collar. I was able to wiggle free and went to hide in the kitchen. Allen comes in and picks me up. I’m just dangling there as he complains about his back all the way to the bathroom. We got to the door, and I was able to put a hind leg up and keep him from going in. He backed up and tried again. And again, I put my leg on the door frame.

“Well, you little SOB, you’re a crafty one, aren’t you?”

He backed up and turned around, backing into the bathroom. There was nothing I could do. He won.

Afterwards, the bathroom was a disaster, flooded with water and dog hair. He went to put on dry clothes, and I couldn’t help tearing through the house rubbing on everything I could. He rubbed some sort of stink on me, and it was impossible to get off. “Yeah, you do that. I’m going to rest,” Allen said as he plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.

Around the time the weather report came on the news, Allen’s eyes were tiny little slits. I knew I needed to get him to take me outside before he fell asleep. No way was I holding it all night, so I went to the door and whined.

“You need to go out boy? I guess I need to give you a name. I had an Uncle Clancy I was fond of when I was young. Are you a Clancy?”

No, I am definitely not a Clancy.

“How about Axel?”

No, I don’t think so.

“Well, we met at the restaurant. How about Burger?”

I love burgers! I had to go leap on him.

“Okay, okay, Burger it is. It’s a little silly, but so are you. Alright, let’s take that walk, Burger.”

He put the leash on me, and I think I almost pulled his arm out of its socket running into the yard. In fact, I could feel Allen putting tension on the leash the whole time I tried to power from place to place. I don’t think he was expecting the workout I had in store for him. Going down to the end of the street wasn’t enough for me. Oh, no. I wanted to check out that whole neighborhood. He complained about his arms, legs, feet, and back the whole time. When we got home, he said, “Who needs a gym membership when you have a pit-bull.”

When we went inside, he grabbed my bed, threw it on the floor next to his, and crashed down on his bed. He didn’t bother to turn the lights out or get under the covers. He slept in his clothes, falling asleep instantly. I said to hell with my little bed on the floor and hopped up next to him. When he woke up the next morning, he had a nose full of dog breath. “Oh, hell no. We are not doing this every night,” he said, as I rolled belly up next to him. His softer side came out and we wrestled for a bit before breakfast.

After breakfast he took me to a dog park – pretty cool, right? There he wanted me to learn how to fetch a ball. He waved the bright green tennis ball in my face and threw it as far as he could. At first, I couldn’t figure out why he would do that, but he kept telling me to go get it, so I did. That was boring, so I changed the rules to the game. If he wanted his ball back, he was going to have to catch me. We tore through the park, him yelling at me, tripping over his own two feet every time I changed directions on him. Back and forth we went and quite often he would have to stop and catch his breath. That’s when I would tease him with the ball and the chase would resume.

In the morning he insisted on a quick walk before leaving for work. After that I was on my own with nothing to do. For a while I concentrated on getting the knots out of my bone but that didn’t take long. I tried sleeping but I was too antsy, couldn’t get comfortable or sleepy. I ate. Probably more than I should have but it was something to do. Eventually I couldn’t take it any longer and those couch cushions were talking trash, so we had it out. When Allen got home, his couch was in shreds. I have never again seen him as mad as I did that day.

The next morning, Allen gets up at four in the morning, four hours earlier than he normally does. We had breakfast and got in the car. I didn’t recognize the smells to where we were going. The morning air was clean and fresh and all I could smell were trees and a host of different animals that must have lived in that area. When we finally got out of the car he said, “Let’s see how a good hike does you.”

We started up a large hill, and I could tell this was a lot for Allen to handle. The grade was steep, and he was breathing heavily by the time we reached the top. He had to stop to catch his breath as he so often does, so we sat there for a few minutes. That’s when a bushy tailed little tree rodent went zipping across the path. I took off after it with Allen’s shouts to come back fading into the background. The little booger scurried up a tree before I could get to him. I was well off the path by then and I could hear Allen calling. I decided the squirrel wasn’t worth it and went to find my friend. He was upset with me but quick to forgive and we finished our hike. That day I slept most of the time while he was gone. It became a morning tradition that we would go out and exercise before he went to work every day. It always wore me out and I never felt the need to make my own fun while he was gone.

Six months later and we still do our morning routine and our long walks at night. Allen has dropped from three-ten to one-ninety. He looks great and acts like a whole new man with restored confidence. He doesn’t seem lonely or bored anymore. His depression has let up and he is enjoying life. He even brought home Caitlyn Wilcox for dinner one night. She has my approval. Best tummy scratches ever. I, of course, am still handsome, maybe even more so.