Dog Gone World

The Jail keeper ran his metal stick along the bars. His keys and treat bag rattled sending the aroma of the ‘good-boy’ treats wafting through the air. Great loud woofs and mousey little yaps began to resonate through the cold and sterile block. This was my first stay in the Hound Pound. And hopefully it would be my last, either a trip to the room of no return or out the front door and out of this alien prison. I needed to learn to navigate this foreign environment if I was to find a way out. I was scratching my floppy ear with my big, back paw when the keeper stopped at my cell door. He clomped around loudly and loved an excuse to hit a dog with the metal stick he wielded.  His unkept red hair and puffed cheeks gave him a friendly look, if his mouth was shut and standing ten feet off, but the reality of him up close was very different. None of the other dogs, like myself, were keen on this vile human. The smell of him was off somehow and made worse by the sharp smell of whisky which was always on his breathe. It was enough to make any pooches lips curl and eyes go squint. Whenever he was alone with us prisoners, the words that came out of his mouth were mean and pointed just like his teeth. Which were as sharp and black as some of the dogs in here. 

‘Well, well aren’t ye gonna be a good doggo and get up off that cushion to greet yer next chance at freedom?’ I ignored him and kept scratching at my ear from my bed at the back of the cell. This itch was going to be the end of me. I just hadn’t been able to get at it right since my last human, about as horrid as the jailkeeper, kicked my back hip out. The jailkeeper took his metal stick and really gave my cell door a crack. I jumped and snarled out of shock. 

‘Oh no, Mommy, not that doggie. He’s got scary teeth.’ A little girl peered around the corner as her mother unfearfully grabbed the dog catchers’ pole and lowered it. 

            ‘I think sir you’ll find that animals respond most cordially to kindness and respond quite the same way to fear when they have a need to protect themselves.’ The kind lady reached down to her child and stroked her hair. I tilted my head in interest thinking how nice it would be to feel that warmth and love press onto my own head. She watched me in earnest as she did this. Inching my way to the front of my cell, I held my tail between my legs with my head held low. I wanted a pat; but I was also terrified of that stick and its wielder. The little girl reached out to touch me as I pressed my nose between the bars.  Would she be like the other children? Pull my tail? Pinch my toes? Or worse, beat me with a stick? I flinched and jerked back at the memory. This led to the child screaming and I knew, I had lost my chance. 

‘Poor beast’ the mother stated calmly as she soothed her child’s terror. I went back to my bed defeated. As I curled up in the old towels filled with foreign smells, I faced the back corner as they went away to gage the other prisoner’s potential.  

‘Yer aff yer heid, dog. Real dumb ye are. Ye should a been more friendly. She was a landed lassie.’  A landed lassie, I thought about this. So what? A landed lassie was rich and had a title. This distinction didn’t make her better than any other human. To my last humans, I was nothing more than a disposable convenience. They could beat me and be cruel, but when I made one effort to protect myself and I was sent here, to prison.  

Time passed slowly in the Hound Pound. People were In and out all day, every day. I was wrong in every situation. Too big. Too small. Too much fur. Not friendly enough. Not scary enough. Never a good fit. So, I watched them all pass. Some of the other dogs barked that it was the fate of a big, old mutt to be stuck in jail. They weren’t completely wrong. The purebreds and small ones never stayed long. Though, I still returned my opposing thoughts to the other prisoners right enough; I wasn’t afraid of Speaking my mind on occasion. It wasn’t my fate to stay here!  

 One such time of discussion with the other dogs, a couple came through; they were really intrigued with me. ‘I just love this one. He would be such a good guard-dog for our apartment.’ The woman concluded. I shook my tail with joy and agreed with her loudly really filling my lungs to show off my potential. 

‘You may find good in the sound of that egregious barking, Love, but would the others in the building think the same?’ Her partner probed, then gently placed his hand on her lower back to encourage her forward. 

With one final glance at me she replied, ‘Oh, you’re too right, Dear. We don’t need a loud dog just one that will protect us.’ My heart sunk with my tail as they walked away. I guess the loud dog doesn’t always get the treat. 

And it certainly wasn’t a treat I’d be getting either. The culinary offerings were regular but of poor quality and small portions at the jail, not like in a home. The dry kibble was passed through the bottom of the cell door. I ate the meagre amount with gusto. Always being half-starved it did not matter that it was more a bowl of rocks than beef. While crunching on the small rocks eagerly, a family nearby put down their small human. It moved along on all fours toward me. The small thing sat in front of my cell, giggling and cooing, as I scarfed my food. I had none to share. Couldn’t this thing see that? It was fine while it kept itself contained to the other side of the bars. In fact, it was somewhat cute. But when those tiny hands reached through pulling my bowl away, I snapped. I had no intention of hurting the baby. I just didn’t want my food to go to it. The mother came running toward her prodigy screaming that I was a monster and should be put down.  No one believed me or understood, no matter how much I cried from the back of my cell, my intentions were not ill-natured. 

I was relieved to find out the death penalty had been stayed on account of vet being out of town on holiday. All the same though, the next day I had a plastic panel with a sign, I could not see, tied to the cell. This made it near impossible to see out and worse, to be seen by visitors. New humans passing by stayed to the opposite side of the hall now and no one stopped to say hello anymore. 

Weeks passed and I knew my sentence was drawing near. I waited patiently and tried to be on my very best behaviour. Other dogs continued to come and go. My chances of going into the room of no return became more of a reality with every person who passed me by. Maybe I was only meant for the back door?  Maybe I would never fit in with another humans? Maybe I was too alien to be understood? I had been called many things in my short two years, but good dog had yet to be one of those titles. Would I ever hear it?

It was in this moment of despair that I decided I had to apply the lessons of my failures into action and speak this alien language in earnest or I would never get out of here. 

‘We can’t just have any dog. I need one with a bit of an attitude. I need one as onery as my Paw is.’ The jailkeeper of the Hound Pound scratched his balding head as he listened to the animated woman. ‘He can’t be too mean though. Still needs to have potential to be a good companion.’ My ears perked up at good.

 ‘My Paws just not as mobile as he used to be and other than me as company finds himself alone most days. He has a big yard and plenty of room.’ Now this was getting interesting. I stood from my bed.

 ‘No kids, no other pets, and plenty of love to give a companion.’ Love? Loveys? I’m in. 

The lady and the jailkeeper began to approach my cell door, I knew I needed to be seen and the cover that separated me from hope of that would never allow it. I had to act and quickly as I was about to be passed. Stretching upward, I placed my paw as high up on the plastic cover as possible. I scratched at the knots. I can be good. I can be perfectly onery.  Scratching and pushing. Pushing and Scratching, I forced the knots of the ties loose. Crash. I’d done it. Her attention was captured as the cover landed just in front of their feet. 

‘Now who is this? You seem keen to say hello!’

‘Nah you’ll nae be wanting that one near took off a bairn’s hand he did, Miss. He’s a long time deid.’

‘Oh no how terrible.’ She exclaimed.

‘Aye. It was. That poor bairn was just playing with his food.’

‘I didn’t mean for the baby, Sir. I meant for the dog. He doesn’t seem the type to be vicious. Seems rather clever to me and there are no children where he’ll be going. Just a cranky old man who needs a smart friend to keep him in his place. Have you not been listening to me?’ 

She began to reach for the cell door kneeling in front of me. ‘Miss I really don’t think it’s wise.’

She scoffed, ‘I don’t blame you if I only got one meal a day, I’d want to protect it too?’

            Lesson one: Look friendly. I sat down tail out. She called me forward. I approached slowly, eyes and tail up.

‘See he’s not what you made him out to be at all. Perfect size and so soft.’  Scratching me through the cell door, she hit the perfect spot behind my ear. The one I could never quite get to. ‘You like that don’t ya boy. We’ll have to teach Paw about this spot too.’

            I couldn’t hardly contain myself. Lesson two: Don’t be too loud. I wanted to agree boldly but I sat barely making a sound except for a few small yes, yes’s. ‘What an adorable sweet and quiet bark he has? Good level for Paw to handle. Let him out. I want to give him a full turn about.’ 

            The jailkeeper protested when the lady reached for the door, he tried to grab her to make her stop. Lesson three: Don’t snap.  I, instead, pounced at his side of the door. She laughed. ‘And he is perfectly protective, and I say a bit onery really put you in your place didn’t he.’ She opened my cell door and laughed as I sat gently between my jailor and the lady, keeping her safe.

‘He’s coming home with me. He’ll be the perfect fit.’  I had never heard better news. I was getting out. It was the other dogs time to look on me with envy. Today was the day, I finally went out the front door with myhuman. This lady had seen the good in me and I was going to be the perfect companion to Paw to thank her for it. I had navigated my way through that horrible alien world of the jail, and I was finally going somewhere. 

She opened the car door, and I hopped in without so much as a second glance at the Hound Pound. ‘You’re such a good boy.’  These were the best words I had ever heard.