Sunny Days Ahead

I stared out of the dusty window, watching her beat-up blue chevy clunk down the road. 

"College is an exciting adventure, a new start." That’s what everyone told me at Lilah’s graduation party. But it didn’t feel that way to me, her leaving left a giant gaping hole in my chest. One that was an infinite vacuum of loneliness. 

She was the closest thing I had left to my mother, now it was just me and Dad. That same loneliness haunted his eyes every time I stared into them. They’d been that way since Mom had left us last winter, when her stage four breast cancer proved to be untreatable.

My Mom and Dad had been together for most of their lives, longer than they had lived apart. They’d met at a skate park at fourteen and became instantly inseparable. I still love thumbing through old albums of them riding their skateboards together on the ramps. My mom’s hot pink hair, with an undercut, always pulled in a ponytail. And my Dad with his blue mohawk and nose ring.  

He didn’t have that spunk anymore, he was just, hollow. I don’t know how to help him or what to say. She was the rock of all of our lives. Now we were just pebbles floating around, pieces of something bigger, never settling anywhere. Pieces that could be sent tumbling turbulently in the wind when the pressure was too much.

I couldn’t bear to think of spending the next two years cooped up here. Or there. Or wherever we called home next. 

So, I just stared. Stared at the shrinking hope that things would get better. Stared at the road leading away from this madness. 

Stared.

Then, a small figure, trotting down the sidewalk at the end of our cul-de-sac caught my eye. I turned to watch it.

At the end of our street was a wooded area with trails for hiking and jogging or running. Many people would to come dump their unwanted and unloved pets here. As if they would happily run off into the wild and be free. The shelter was the next street over, but these owners must be too ashamed to just do the right thing.

In the few months we have been renting the house, I have witnessed a brand new litter of kittens, in a dented moving box get shoved out onto the grassy field and the white pickup speed off, without so much as a glance in the rearview. They were taken in by Mrs. Wilkinson and adopted out after a few weeks. And, a pair of senior dogs, who I suppose had become too old to be cute and cuddly, and therefore deemed unlovable. Dad let me keep them in our backyard and we took them over to the shelter the next morning before we went to visit Mom.

But this small figure came from the woods, there had been no cars in sight. The figure waddled another few paces then sat, and I could make out black and white patches and a long black tail. It was a puppy no older than a few months, and no larger than fifteen pounds. Being that it was February now, I assumed that this had been Christmas pup who proved to be too much responsibility for some sad soul.  

I raced down the stairs, bounding out of the front door. I slowed down and tiptoed toward our gate so I wouldn’t startle the little creature.

The puppy still sat in the same spot that I had last seen it, but now it focused its big, gleaming, black eyes on me. I beckoned it with a soft crooning, and after a few attempts it slowly trotted over. It stopped short of our gate, but wouldn’t cross the threshold. It just plopped down staring at the open door and waited stubbornly, looking back toward the woods. I leaned forward slowly and scooped it up in my arms, taking in the sweet puppy breath and soft paw pads. 

I was instantly in love. I brought her inside and called for Dad. He came into the living room and fixed his eyes on the puppy. “Really Maya, do you think now is the right time?” I nodded slowly, and he broke into a huge grin. He had always been an animal lover. He couldn’t deny the licks and wags that enveloped him as he sat on the floor, legs sprawled. 

“Let's go out, to get a new collar and leash for her. And a doggy bed.”

“Do you think she has an owner?” I wondered.

“Well I don’t see a collar or tag, and her fur is pretty dusty. It doesn’t look like anyone has cared for her in awhile.”

We went and ran errands, and Sunny sat happily in my lap the entire ride, sticking her small head out of the window with a giant smile, her tongue flung to one side as the wind sped up.

When we got back home I decided to give her a bath before bed. When we finished I set her in her bed and crawled into my own, spent for the day. Before my head hit the pillow she’d leapt onto my bed, pranced in a circle and licked my cheek then snuggled up right on the foot of my bed, instead of her own. Her little tail thumped melodically but she didn’t doze off. She just stared at me, while I laid reading. When I reached over and turned off the light on my nightstand Sunny whimpered and ran to my door. She sat and continued to whimper until I turned it back on. She paced now, waiting for me to open the door. She must need to be let out for the night, so I groggily took her down the steps. 

When I opened my front she bolted down the sidewalk and squeezed through the bars of the gate, heading toward the woods once again.

I guess she doesn’t like it here, I thought sadly. But she couldn’t stay out in the dark alone.

I shouted for Dad and grabbed a flashlight from our utility drawer in the kitchen and we took off after her.

We started down the path, following her small paw prints, and calling out Sunny, though it struck me as odd. We had just named her, why would she respond? She didn’t even like us.

Her paw prints led us left, and I shined my flashlight next to a large boulder. A small scrap of blanket lay down in front of it. There was Sunny, standing and sniffing another shadow. Dad shined his phone light, then we could make out another puppy identical to Sunny, curled up into a ball. It must be her sister. She attempted to stand, but fell after a few steps, showing she favored one side. She must have been injured.

Dad scooped up the puppy, while I carried Sunny, patting her and giving her positive reinforcement. “ We’ll take care of your sister too. Sisters have to stick together.” 

Then it hit me, even though my sister had to move on, and live her life, no matter how far she went, she would always come back.

She would be so excited to hear about Sunny and Rayn.