Fetch

My day off had been like any other. I drove around town, stopping by the pet shelters to see if there was a dog I'd like. My one bedroom apartment felt empty without a companion. It had been just over a year since my last companion died and I decided it was time to get another. Most of the places I stopped at didn't have anything new, but one place did.

Put out in front of the shelter was a Dalmatian. He lay with his back to the world, ignoring everything. A few cages down were a few Cocker Spaniel Terrier mixes with black and tan fur. Their excitement to get attention made me smile. When I was a little girl we had a Cocker/Terrier. She had been one of the best companions I had. But, I was drawn to the silent Dalmatian. I crouched by the cage.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked the shopkeeper.

"Nothing that we know of, but he's been like that since we got him."

I reached my fingers through the bars and lightly moved the fur on his back. His head lifted to look at me. His eyes seemed to study my features a moment before he got up and started wagging his tail furiously. He barked happily. Perhaps more enthusiastically than the Cocker/Terriers.

"There you are," I said, as he licked my fingers. "How much do you want for him?"

"Thirty."

"I'll take him." I took my fingers from the cage to give the man some money and the Dalmatian whined.

"You're fine," I told him. "Calm down."

He sat and I saw his dog tags. They were military dog tags and they were on a beaded chain instead of a collar. Slowly I turned back to the man.

"Are you sure he doesn't belong to anyone?" I asked.

"We checked, but no one's reported a missing Dalmatian."

The dog shifted where he sat and pressed his nose through the bars.

"Alright."

"I'll just have you sign the paperwork."

Standing, I followed the shopkeeper inside to fill out the paperwork. After paying the fee, I pulled out a leash to get the dog.

"Oh, miss," the owner said. "This was found with the dog as well." He handed me a small bag with stuff in it.

"Thank you."

He opened the cage and hooked a finger in the chain around the dog's neck before leading him out. I knelt to hook the leash to it, but the dog tried to back away. He tugged on the shop keeper's arm, but not enough to break the flimsy chain.

"Stop," I told the dog.

He stopped and sat.

"Come."

He came to me.

"Sit. Stay. Good boy."

The dog stayed where he was as I was able to hook the leash to the chain. I'd need to get a better collar. Once the leash was attached the Dalmatian lowered his head.

"I know you don't like it, but until I know for sure that you'll do as you're told, it stays." I stood. "Let's go."

He stood and walked by my side out to the car. He was even less thrilled when I slipped the harness on to buckle him in. Lying on the seat, he seemed to pout as he had before I got his attention.

"You'll be just fine," I said, setting his bag on the floor in front of him. He sniffed at it before laying his head down.

I drove back to my apartment and brought him inside. I took the leash off and let him explore the place. From my cupboard I pulled out food and water bowls. I still had a little dry food left over that was still good. I filled up both bowls and set them against one of the kitchen walls. My Dalmatian entered the bathroom, his nails clicking on the floor tiles. Then he went into the bedroom. He was still there when I pulled a large oval rug from my closet and lay it out in one of the corners. He came over and smelled it and I caught the name on the tag—Brandt.

"Brandt?"

The dog looked at me and sniffed me when I didn't say anything else. I fondled his head and got his tail swinging big again before I returned to the kitchen to cook. Brandt explored the apartment some more before coming into the kitchen. He sniffed around his food dishes before eating some of the kibbles. As evening fell, I sat on the couch to read. Brandt lay by my feet for a little while before he got up and scratched at the door.

"Alright," I said, putting my book down. I picked up the leash from the side table and his ears flattened in disapproval. "I told you already. Until I know you better, you get to wear it."

He barked once after I attached the leash.

Once he was done with business, I brought him back inside. It was too late to go for a run in the park. Brandt picked up the bag the shop owner had given me and brought it to me.

"What is it?" I asked.

He nosed the bag closer to me and I picked it up. Opening it, I found several odd items—a knife, emergency blanket, a flare, a half used pack of cigarettes, a ball and a second dog tag. Setting the bag down, I studied the dog tag. 'Brandt Quire,' it read, along with squad and group numbers.

"Is this your owner?" I asked.

Brandt tilted his head to one side.

"Is Brandt Quire your owner?"

He sneezed before shaking off and going into the bedroom. I thought about the contents for another moment before putting them away and returning to my book. It was odd for a dog to have those things, but nor had Brandt given me an affirming yes.

The following morning, I found Brandt eating his food. I pet him before taking him outside to do his business. Then I got ready for work. Brandt barked and whined as I finished getting ready.

"I'll be back in a few hours," I told him. Then I kissed the top of his head. "Be good."

He licked my nose and whined as I pet him one last time before leaving.

The day was busy with phone calls. It seemed as if everyone was calling in to check on their policy. By the time I could clock out, I wasn't sorry to leave the ringing phones behind. Brandt barked excitedly as I unlocked the door.

"Hold on, Silly Goose," I called through the door.

His barking continued until I was inside.

"Have you been a good boy?

Brandt wagged his tail excitedly. I pet his head before putting my bag away. Then I picked up the leash. Brandt went silent.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" I asked.

His tail wagged a little and he barked once.

Whoever had Brandt before I did had taught him well. I attached the leash to his chain before taking him out. Brandt stayed by my side, his tail and head down. Eventually, I felt bad enough to take the leash off. His head came up after that and he remained by my side. We walked down to the park where several other dogs were playing fetch. His ears perked up, but he stood by me instead of running off.

"Hey, Brandt," I said, picking up a stick. "Fetch."