“Okay, public safety is where we start.” Officer Williams wipes rain from her forehead. “We need to get the word out that these animals are on the loose.”
“Of course,” says the director. “We have protocols in place. But we need to be careful how we word this. People might overreact, might—”
“Ma’am,” a firefighter interrupts, “I see a python in my backyard, I’m sure as heck gonna overreact.”
“First things first,” says Officer Williams. “Triage in the main office. Check wreckage for any survivors, human or animal. Fan out with tranq guns, get an inventory on how many animals are loose.”
I wonder how it’s possible that Officer Williams can seem so composed. The air reeks with fear, from animals, birds, people.
From me.
And yet she doesn’t seem worried about herself. Just other people. Weird, the way some humans stick their necks out for others. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, does it?
Again, the crackle, the hiss, the barking. My ears perk up for a minute. Was that a familiar voice? Maybe someone I know is in the slammer?
“I’m going to the shelter at the elementary school,” Sara says. Her hands are trembling, but her voice is firm. “To look for George and Julia. Just in case.”
She strokes my head and I’m happy to let her. I wonder if I should tag along with her, see if I can help out. Now that I know Ivan and Ruby are safe.
Hiss. Crackle. Meow. Bark.
I hear it again. My ears go on alert. My body goes rigid.
No. It’s impossible.
never
Some barks you never forget.
one place
I know what I have to do.
Despite the turmoil all around me, the noises, the smells, the fear, the confused humans, the frantic animals. Despite my worry about Julia and George.
I know there’s one place I need to be.
a split second
I want to tell Ivan and Ruby. But Ivan is still being poked at by the rhymes-with-pet-threat.
Although, come to think of it, she doesn’t seem like much of a threat. In a movie, she’d be one of the good guys.
To my annoyance, Sara picks me up. I hate being picked up. Unless it’s my idea. Then it’s totally cool.
“Maya,” she says, “you let me know, first sign of George and Julia, okay?”
“Promise,” says Maya, and she places her hand on Sara’s shoulder.
Humans, always with the touching. Although I kind of get it, under the circumstances.
“You can’t take Bob to the school shelter. They’re not allowing any more pets,” Maya points out. “And the animal shelter is flooding, it sounds like. Why don’t you leave him here? I’ll put him my office. He’ll be safe.”
No way is that on my agenda.
Sara nods. “Good idea.”
She starts to hand me over but hesitates when she realizes Maya still has a meerkat wrapped around her neck.
It’s just a split second, but a split second is all it takes to escape when you’re Bob, untamed and undaunted.
on my way
“Bob!” Sara cries.
“Grab that dog!” Maya yells.
I spent a good part of my life running from a certain guy named Mack, and I still have my moves. I twist and spin and dip, and before you can say Yes sirree Bob, they’ve given up.
I backtrack, slip under a bench, and make my way to Ruby. “Ruby,” I whisper, “I gotta go. Something important’s come up. You and Ivan see if you can find George and Julia.”
“I want to come!” Ruby says, stomping her right front foot in a huge puddle.
“You need to keep an eye on Ivan,” I say. “Make sure Kinyani doesn’t drive him loco with her sobbing. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I don’t wait for an answer.
I’m off into the wild, into the world filled with wind and rain, with wolves and alligators, with a voice that could rip my heart in two.
Three
looking
Ivan used to ask me what I did when I wasn’t hanging out at the Exit 8 Big Top Mall and Video Arcade.
I wasn’t like the rest of the animals. Caged, trapped.
I told him I was scrounging for food. And he never questioned it.
When you think about it, though, where’s a better place to find food than the floor of a mall at the end of the day?
Yeah. I wasn’t looking for food.
I was looking for her.
For Boss.
what if
At first, I didn’t admit it to myself.
You know how it is when you wish for something so bad you’re afraid to say it out loud, ’cause what if it never happens?
It was like that.
I knew the odds were crazy long. I knew I was nuts.
And yet.
I went out, day after day, searching for her.
six
There’d been six of us in the litter. So why was I only looking for her?
Because it was her bark I’d heard.
After the box landed. Even after the truck roared past.
I heard it. A whimper-bark-howl-cry, something I’ve never heard since.
She survived, at least at first.
I survived.
The rest of them didn’t.
relieved
And what did I do, when I heard that bark? Did I run toward it? Did I try to find her, to save her?
No.
No.
I was just a few weeks old. Helpless. Useless.
The cries stopped almost as soon as they’d started. And you know what?
Part of me was relieved.
I didn’t want to have to go back onto that highway. I couldn’t bear wanting to rescue her and not knowing how.
I didn’t want to see her die.
But mostly, I was afraid.
coward
I was afraid. A coward.
There’s a certain freedom that comes with owning your faults.
the wind
Every day I went looking for Boss. Up and down that same barren stretch of highway.
Sometimes I’d catch a hint of something hopeful on the air and think it was my sister’s scent. I’d be certain the breeze had brought me her voice, like an invisible gift.
The wind can really mess with your head.
enough
After a while I stopped going to the highway.
Stopped looking.
It was a relief to give up. I had enough to worry about.
my paddles
As I run from the park, I keep hearing my sister’s yelp in my head. Still, with every step, my doubts grow.
Sometimes we hear what we want to hear.
The animal shelter is close, just down the street, but there’s nothing quick about the trip. Water rushes past like a raging river. The sun’s been swallowed by black clouds.
I pick my way through muddy front yards, avoiding the worst of the water.
I ain’t much of a swimmer. Doesn’t come up much in my line of work, though I do a passable dog paddle.