Miles from Freedom

For the past eleven years, humans have been forced off their food chain throne. Now, civilization exists within small bubbles of their former glory, and the animal population roams the globe without fear. How the tables have turned! 

Cupido has free range of the settlement, as his job requires. He can wind between vibrant tents. He can snuggle down by a bonfire. Yet, as always, he paces along the chain fence encompassing the entire settlement. His eyes remain in a constant shifting state, and his ears flick in all directions- every sense remains acutely alert. His owner views him as a dedicated guard dog, but there’s something deeper beneath the persistent patrolling. His restlessness grows with each indention his massive paws print into the mud behind him. Jealousy pricks his heart in response to enthusiastic baying from beyond the fence. While the hunting dogs run free, Cupido’s trapped within the city as much as the creatures he’s trying to keep away are locked out. Sure, he’s treated well: there’s never a shortage of scratches behind the ears. But that benefit pales in the face of the tugging, suffocating sensation deep within Cupido’s chest.

It’s the eleven-year anniversary of the incident. Pollution, forest fires, and buildings had tainted every last frontier. Nature and man were looked at as separate entities, when, in truth, one cannot exist without the other. Yet, man watched on for centuries while they performed their own execution.

But when a fork in the road approached, they were forced to choose once and for all. Either the world could give in- the animals could succumb like flames under a torrential rainfall- or, the earth could rebound. 

            Was there ever an option?

            So, they scrambled for a way out, turning to the creature that stood alongside them since the beginning: the tardigrade. If they could harness its ability to survive the impossible...

They were forced to play the dangerous game of genetic modification. The animals that were experimented on fell deathly ill, but that was happening anyway. Man needed to continue. 

            Bit by bit, it worked. Animal immunity shot through the roof and living changed to thriving. Each modified animal that was released was another animal that could sustain the severe barrage of injustice. However, it didn’t take long for man to register the turning tides: the offspring of these genetically manipulated creatures weren’t just tinged with tardigrade abilities. Their DNA restructured. 

While directly manipulating the genes was often fatal, the cons disappeared over the span of several generations while the pros kept climbing. Populations that would previously succumb to pressure remained stable. Clips of kangaroos walking straight through Australian infernos unscathed went viral. Studies about how long lab rats could go without taking a single sip of water or a nibble of food (647 days without water; 209 without food) hit the media like a truck. Mother nature needed a crack in man’s suffocating foundation, and as soon as she was provided one, she didn’t hesitate. And, now, she’s pushed the invasive human species out of the picture as much as possible.

            Dogs have crossed the line between workers and companions numerous times over the course of history. So, when people began losing the battle against nature, dogs leapt from our laps and into the fray. After all, humans haven’t been able to bring themselves to bring the genetic slaughter upon themselves. Thus, man needs an army that has already undergone the process to feed and protect them. Preferably a powerful army. Consequently, a frenzied rush to attain the most capable breeds broke out. The Kangal topped all lists: massive, hardy, and yet a gentle-hearted and quick-witted creature by nature. A guardian, through and through. Not to mention the bite force that can put a wolf to shame. 

            “Hi, Cupey!” Cupido’s owner beckons from a distance.

            Cupido’s bitterness forces its way out in the form of a guttural snarl. He tosses his head and continues his march, so starved for freedom that drool drips from his massive jowls. He gazes out at the forest- so close, yet so far- and imagines himself, a hunting patrol all his own. Just him, a deer, and the wind. 

            But the harsh fence still stands between him and his greatest desire, despite how much he wishes otherwise.

Something dawns on him and leaves no room for doubt: that itch, deep within his heart, must be scratched. And now. The frenzied and eager barking waxes and wanes from beyond the fence. A mournful squeal from a captured rabbit pierces Cupido’s ears. The party should return soon with the rewards from a fruitful day. Cupido eyes the gate standing a few paces away and positions himself beside it. Now, it’s a waiting game. 

He observes his peers passing by, dully content with their job. They strut side-by-side, grinning whilst they nip one another. The youngest of the pair turns to Cupido, falls to his forearms, and wiggles his rear in the air. An invitation for play that Cupido finds himself disgusted by- are they satisfied with their life? He turns up his nose, pins his ears back, and plays his game alone until a wave of hunting dogs comes bursting from the trees. Howling, they rub their bliss with being free in Cupido’s face. And yet, they willfully return to this trap. They’ll all curl up with one another tonight and dawdle about, locked within the settlement’s walls.  

            Cupido feels like the only one who can see. 

            No matter. His chance to escape approaches.

            The gate door swings open. A stream of dogs pours in. Cupido shoves against the current, and with all the commotion, no-one notices a stray Kangal slipping out. His ears are slicked back by the wind as he soars, thudding against the ground and yet feeling light as a feather. He races at full-sprint until his tongue lolls and he can no longer catch the scent of home on the wind. 

He’s free! Truly! He trots on with a pep in his step. However, the brightest days always have the deepest shadows. 

Despite himself, he jumps at every rustle in the underbrush in his trek deeper and deeper into the woods. Back at the camp, a pack always remained at his flanks should anything go south. The absence of his allies leaves an unsettling feeling he’s unable to brush off, akin to the sensation of the gap left behind by a pulled tooth. Additionally, while he never paid his collar much mind before, now its chimes sound like gongs. Or, perhaps a dinner bell would be more accurate.

            Steeling himself against his own thoughts, Cupido growls. He’s the toughest creature out here, and he won’t hesitate to prove it.  Although he’s a puppy, he’s a big puppy with even bigger teeth.

            Daytime retreats into the horizon, exiled by the night. It drags shades of blue and yellow down with it. However, the sun begins to bleed. Being dragged across the sky opens wounds that leak pink and purple blood as Cupido winds through trees. He’s finally putting his sharp abilities to work. Not many creatures messed with the settlement, even if they were within eyeshot of livestock- they’re well aware of the guards like Cupido weaving throughout the tents and buildings. In fact, Cupido has only been in one skirmish, when a half-starved cougar leaped over the fence. Out here, though, it’s a different story. They know the location of every watering hole, the finest trees to stalk a dog from. It’s their domain. That thought leaves yet another wave of discomfort in its wake. Cupido keeps his nose forever upturned, sniffing for both predator and prey.

He walks until the sun once again rises to kiss the clouds, only pausing for brief intervals throughout the night. Whether it’s the opportunity to rid himself of the pent-up energy or the nerves forcing him on, he’s not certain. 

The world has become a curious combination of wilderness and human architecture- like Yin and Yang meeting to form an ugly gray. Once-smooth asphalt roads are reduced to chasms and potholes, foggy glass peers down at Cupido, and vines slither up and down every surface. Cupido strolls in the center of a street, tucked between towering buildings. The sun sits high in the sky when he bumps noses with his first hunt. He had been following the scent all day, recognizing the odor of prey. Of course, until this point, the aroma had only ever been coming from his bowl.  He isn’t hungry, but a growing dog like him will never pass up a chance to gorge himself.

A chance like this one: a tremendous herd of deer, akin to the size of the caribou migrations, pick the abandoned structures clean of vines. They observe Cupido, but feel nothing but secure within the grand herd. 

As they size him up and deem him trivial, he’s scanning them for weak points. The herd flows like a slow-moving creek, treating entire buildings like mere pebbles in their path. There’s no plan that could prepare Cupido for taking down a swarm of this size.

He just has to leap into it face-first and see what happens.

He switches in the blink of an eye, charging directly into the flock, tail lashing. The deer in the immediate vicinity startle. Some rear up, trapped by the rumps of their neighbors. One screams out a cry- alerting the herd of a genuine danger. The herd gathers its bearings after an awkward, stumbling start, and the mob’s pace quickens tenfold. The click of hooves meeting concrete form a deafening chorus. Cupido remains at their heels, attempting to keep himself from being trampled into a pulp. Despite his vigilance, he can’t catch any deer breaking off. With the lack of illness, very few deer grow weak enough to be easy targets. Even age struggles to hinder them. Cupido has to take matters into his own hands. 

He abruptly leaps to the side, underneath the legs of a young doe. She bleats and tumbles, attempting to utilize the momentum to rock back to her feet. Cupido falls upon her before she has the chance. She thrashes, forcing Cupido to dance around her flying hooves. 

While tardigrade-infused animals can heal their wounds with ease, they’re not invincible; a strike to the brain could wipe out a puppy with ease. So, when the doe’s kick comes within a hair’s breadth of Cupido’s skull, he’s forced to release her.  

She leaps to her feet and races away with a significant limp- she must have broken a leg. That may have been a death sentence eleven years ago, but the genes specialize in injuries of that nature. She’ll be fine tomorrow. Cupido watches her retreat, sides heaving from the scuffle, drool dripping from his jaws like a waterfall. 

He always imagined himself hunting alone, but now he can see why the hunting patrols always ventured out together. An overwhelming pain comes over him. He has never craved a scratch behind his ears, or the opportunity to curl up alongside another Kangal, with such intensity.

He’s meant to be happy now. He’s free.

But now he dreams of walking beside his guard companions and exchanging play bows. 

He eventually exits the large abandoned city, trudging through downtown regions, and returns to the thick woodland. It’s not a conscious decision, but his paws are bringing him home. 

Cupido growls and shakes off the bad thoughts like mud. He chose this, and if he gives up now, what’s the point?

 And… what if they don’t even want him anymore?

Anyway, he refuses to let a little homesickness stand between him and a happy future.

One week later, he finds himself still fighting. He’s wandered in a large arc and made himself a home on the settlement’s boundaries: far enough not to remain hidden, but close enough to constantly second-guess himself. While his head dips low for the first time in his life and all joviality has fled from his stride, his unyielding stubbornness and dauntless nature keep him going.

Life has become a constant game of dodging predators and missing prey. But today… he stumbles across something pleasant for a change. A lifeless deer laying smack-dab in the center of a clearing. The sight of it makes Cupido perk up, whining. Where there’s food, there’s danger- but Cupido could use the spark of confidence.

            He approaches and gives the fresh, untouched deer a sniff a sniff-over. Everything checks out, so Cupido digs in. The taste explodes within his dry mouth and his awareness dulls. A lean, earthy flavor… musky…

            A gargantuan bear lumbers from the woods, drawn in by the promising scent of fresh blood. Loose skin shakes like Jell-O upon its sturdy bones with each jostling step. 

            Hints of sage, acorns, and ivy…

Cupido yelps as he glances up- the bear looms above his nose. He launches into the three-step Kangal defense operation.

            Step 1: he lets rip with a series of throaty barks, attempting to startle the grizzly away. It yawns, revealing massive canines, as if bored. Admittedly, this step works better when the enemy is further away. More room for second thoughts.

            When that fails, step 2 falls into motion: roar. Cupido bounces on his feet, feigning a charge on the bear while a terrifying snarl erupts. The drawn-out sound is parallel to a revving motor, punctuated by rippling barks. The bear responds with a similar bellow.

Cupido fled the settlement because the appeal of being allowed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, drew him in. But there’s always a dictator- whether it’s the orders of someone higher up on the pecking order or the harsh rules of the unfiltered world.

He hesitates in engaging in step 3: attack. But he’s always been stubborn. Armed with the spiked collar protecting his neck, he takes a few wavering steps forward, bawling all the way. 

Suddenly, something bursts from the bushes behind him. Cupido braces himself with a yelp. However, he doesn’t receive the claws of a cougar digging into his back. Instead, a swarm of dogs rush to his side- a hunting troop! A handful of Kangals serving as the troop’s defenders dart forward to grasp the immense bear. An assortment of hunting breeds hangs back, barking. Their tails whip to and fro as they bounce on their paws.

The bear makes a swift exit, hollering at the hounds in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, Cupido finds himself at a fork in the road. He could either continue his disappearing act, or he could join the cohesive pack.

Was there ever an option?

He scrambles after them, drawing out the remaining scraps of his energy. As he races alongside his peers, his heart lifts for the first time since he left. 

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. The hunting dogs were never cherishing their freedom; they were reveling in the chance to strengthen the bond with their peers. Additionally, the guard dogs found fulfillment not in their job, but within each other. 

Cupido, who once believed he was the only one who could see, was in truth blinded by his misguided desire for freedom. 

“Cupido?”

Cupido spins on his heels, opening his mouth in a wide doggy smile. The hunting patrol’s human escort- Cupido’s owner- gasps.

“Cupey!” she calls, slapping her knees. Cupido races to rub his filthy fur along her jeans. And when he receives a sweet scratch behind the ears… he can’t believe he ever took her for granted. 

Perhaps happiness does not follow freedom, but freedom follows happiness.

Now, Cupido is truly free.