THE JOURNEY
BY SOL MARKMAN
A STORY OF HARDSHIP
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A YOUNG STRAY
Dedicated to Ann M. Martin for all the inspiration
THE JOURNEY
BY SOL MARKMAN
A STORY OF HARDSHIP
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A YOUNG STRAY
Introduction
I am sitting across from the fireplace, looking into the flames. I see flashes of my journey, the long journey it took me to get here, Cindy’s home, which now we share. The story you are about to explore is the story of my life.
CHAPTER 1
Mother yawned and stretched. She patted her stomach, the stomach in which I was resting not knowing the wonders and difficulties of the world outside. She walked slowly, looking for a suitable place to give birth. Mother chose an old, abandoned truck with a thin layer of hay covering the bottom. She scooped the hay into a neat pile and rested there for the night. When she woke up just after sunrise, there we lay, my three siblings and me. Our eyes closed, still in a world of darkness. Mother looked around, no food. She was not concerned, because we could feed on milk. For her, well a different story, but she was only worried about us at the moment. We grew fatter and fatter, feeding on her good quality milk, while she grew thinner and thinner from loss of food.
CHAPTER 2
One rainy day, mother became so desperate; she had no choice but to go hunting for food. She covered us with hay and sprinted off into the forest. The four of us snuggled against each other and slept. I opened my eyes. I squinted. I looked around, the sunlight burning in my eyes. No mother. My two sisters were sobbing in the corner and whining, “We want food!” My brother was still fast asleep. I shook him awake. I signaled for them to follow me. I went deeper and deeper into the forest, not knowing where I was going, only that I was looking for Mother. I don’t know how long we walked, but we walked until we came to bloody tracks. I was tired, I yawned, but I was eager to find Mother. We followed the blood trail for hours it felt like, and then… I stopped dead in my tracks. Shocked. There, right in front of me, lay mother. I put my ear to her heart, afraid of what I was about to hear. No heartbeat. I turned around not believing what was before me. Mother was gone. My weak sister came up and pressed her ear against mother’s heart. She stood frozen there for a moment, fell to the ground, and closed her eyes forever. My other sister and brother began to sob. I flung my lifeless sister over my back and carried her all the way back to the truck, the rest behind me. We climbed onto the truck and snuggled together. I fell asleep right away, tired from the trip to the forest.
CHAPTER 3
I dreamt about mother. I could almost hear her heartbeat and feel her warm fur against mine. When I woke up, I realized I was hungry. I tried to forget my hunger. I thought about nice things: cinnamon, sugar, pepper, salt. I could almost taste them on my tongue. For some reason my thoughts drifted to names. Names…mother didn’t name us! She had waited too long to see if we would stay alive. I looked around for my two siblings. They were sitting in the corner chewing on an old tire. I reminded them that we had no names. They agreed with me that it was time we started calling each other something other than brother or sister. So that’s how we got our names: me- Sugar, my brother-Pepper, my sister-Cinnamon, and the sleeping body resting in a different world-Salt.
Cinnamon and Pepper were also hungry. We decided to hunt the trashcans across the street. We came across a bag of potatoes in the middle of the street. All of us started chewing at the potatoes in the bag. They were salty; they reminded me of Salt. I thought I saw a flash of headlights, so I ran to the bushes. I tried barking to Cinnamon and Pepper, but it was too late. I watched them fly through the air and land right on the hard, black cement. They lay there side-by-side, still as stone, lying in a puddle of their own blood.
“No, no!” I whispered in their ears. “Don’t leave me!”
That is my last memory of them, and it is not a happy one. It was too much for me: mother, Salt, and then this. I picked them up, Cinnamon on my back and Pepper in my jaws. I began to sob as I never did before. I silently walked back to the truck, checking for cars twice as much as usual. I placed the two bodies next to Salt’s. I was alone.
CHAPTER 4
When I got to the truck I found a dog bigger than me cleaning himself and resting on the old tire. I tried to growl; out came a little squeak. I swallowed and tried again, but got the same results. The dog laughed and held out his paw. He introduced himself as Yogi. I guessed he was about two to three years older than me. He offered me a piece of chicken. I sniffed it and swallowed it whole. This dog seemed nice enough, so I stretched out and slept.
“Sugar my pup,” I heard mother’s voice calling out to me. She snuggled against me. Cinnamon, Pepper, and Salt were playing with the old tire. Mom whispered to me, “Be strong sugar pup, take care of your brother and sisters. I have to go now.”
“NO don’t go! Where are you going? Why do you have to go?” My brain was exploding with questions, but Mother was already gone.
I woke up sweating. I realized that it was just a dream, but it didn’t matter. Mother was gone anyway, and to make it worse, so were Salt, Pepper, and Cinnamon. It was my entire fault. I was the one who survived; the one who shouldn’t have gone to look for mother, the one who didn’t warn Pepper and Cinnamon. I buried my head in my paws and closed my eyes.
“Had a bad dream?” Yogi asked in a concerned voice. “Here, have an apple.” He tossed me a bruised red apple. I took a bite and saved the rest for later.
So that is how I survived for a week; Yogi brought me food and water from the picnic area across the street. One day, he even brought a whole vanilla fudge cupcake! He said he stole it from the bakery. Every night, Yogi would tell me a story. Sometimes it was about a princess poodle or a dog in shining armor. Other times it was about a detective dog that solves mysteries of a hidden tunnel or intruded territory. At night we slept side-by-side, back-to-back. I always slept on the side closer to my siblings. Sometimes I even hugged them like a little girl with her dolls. Yogi was more of a big brother to me than a friend.
CHAPTER 5
One unusually cold day, a big black van pulled up next to the old, rusty truck. I was shivering and licking my nose to keep it from freezing. Yogi was napping on the tire. Having family roots from Alaska, his Siberian husky blood wasn’t as sensitive to the cold. The black van had the words SAN FELIPE RESCUE written on it in big golden letters. A man dressed in navy blue stepped out of the van with a handful of dog food. He had the same golden letters on his shirt.
“Come here pup,” he said and made a clicking sound with his tongue.
The dog food smelled so good that I took a few steps forward. The man slowly came forward and let me eat out of his hand. I sniffed the food and took a bite. It was crunchy and tasted like chicken. When I finished, the man gently lifted me into the van. For some reason, I was not scared; I could tell the man was only trying to help me. A second man came to us holding Yogi. Yogi tried to struggle free, but the second man was strong and held on firmly but gently. He put us in a big thing –a–majig; now I know it was a cage.
“Got ‘em all safe ‘n sound?” asked the first man.
“Yep,” answered the second.
I crawled closer to Yogi. I could tell he was scared. After a short ride, the truck suddenly stopped. The two men lifted the cage into a big brick building with lots of other dogs and cats in cages. The men put us down in between two white dogs, and gave us food and water. I sniffed around the cage. It smelled of other dogs.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked Yogi.
“Wait until some one chooses us of course,” he answered.
“Who?” I was confused.
“Haven’t you ever heard of house dogs? They get their food for free and have an owner who loves them and pets them.”
“Oh,” I said, though I really didn’t understand. The shelter door opened.
“Here comes a customer,” Yogi said. “Put on your best puppy-dog face and just hope they choose you.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“I was once in a shelter, but I escaped. Someone accidentally left the cage door open.”
“A what?”
“A shelter, this place,” he said waving his paw around.
I was excited, confused, and nervous. I tried to act cute, but I think I went cross-eyed, because Yogi started to laugh. Making Yogi laugh gave me new energy. All the energy that I had stored in the past hour sitting in this cage started to build up and take action. I stuck out my tongue and started to dance. The white dogs started to laugh along with the “customer.”
“Can I see that one?” the customer asked between giggles. I froze, stared at her, and put on my best puppy-dog face. She laughed even harder.
“Sure,” the woman at the desk answered. “We just got her a couple of hours ago.”
The woman opened the cage and handed me to the customer. She took me in her hands and looked down at me adoringly. “My name is Cindy,” she whispered. “You probably already have a name, but I’m going to name you Ginger. You look pretty gentle. I think you, Jenny, and the others will get along just fine.”
“Do you want a carrier?” the woman at the desk asked.
“No thanks, just a collar,” Cindy said. The woman handed Cindy some sort of necklace with jingly bells.
“Here you go,” Cindy said and clipped it on.
I scratched my neck. The collar felt funny. Cindy hugged me tight with her young and strong arms. I looked into Yogi’s eyes. They looked sad and lonely. “Thanks for everything,” I whispered. “Thanks for everything – brother.”
CHAPTER 6
Cindy carried me to a bright blue car. She put me down in the seat next to hers. This car wasn’t like my old truck; it was moving like the black van! I stuck my head out the window to feel the wind on my face. I saw the houses rush by, and the whoosh-whoosh of cars rang in my ears. Little flower gardens, sidewalks, people. The car stopped abruptly in front of a small, baby-blue house. The paint was peeling and the roof was stained, but there was a patch of flowers to brighten it up and the house looked cozy. There was a swing set and a sand box painted a light pink. Cindy brought me into the house.
“Mama, Mama!” yelled a little girl dressed in pink with a little pink bow in her rich, dark brown hair. She came running to us. “You bring doggy? What doggy name?”
“Her name is Ginger, Jenny, and she is ours now. I just couldn’t resist. I walked into the rescue shelter and there is this dog dancing with his tongue sticking out!” Cindy said in a laughing manner.
Five dogs came running and shouting, “New dog, new dog!”
Cindy put me down and ran to get me some food.
The biggest dog wearing sunglasses introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Yo-Yo.”
“Yo-Yo!” all the dogs cheered.
“These are my friends Jo-Joe, Co-co, Sally, and Pie- Pie.”
“Yeah!” chorused all the rest.
“And what’s your name pal?”
“Sugar,” I answered. “But Cindy calls me Ginger.”
“Okay Ginger. Let’s call you Ginger. By the way, we say Alpha Cindy, not Cindy. Got it?”
“Yep,” I said. I was already beginning to like my new friends.
“Ginger! Snack time,” Alpha Cindy said giving me a bowl of dog food and some water to wash it down. The food was more crunchy and fishy than usual. Immediately, I had to go potty something real, so I climbed onto the counter and went pee in the sink.
“Hey, Ginger, outside!” said Yo-yo. “It’s okay though. That’s what Jo-Joe did.”
“Oh be quiet!” Jo-Joe snapped back. Sally giggled.
“What you laughin’ at?” Jo-Joe said angrily.
“Come on,” Pie-pie said, “let’s go play in the garden.”
We walked out the opened door. Pie-pie rolled in the flowers and did a perfect somersault. I tried, but I got a mouthful of grass instead.
“It’s fine, it takes a lot of practice,” Pie-pie reassured.
I heard a high whistle. “Dinnertime,” Pie-pie said.
Jenny was sitting in her high chair eating cornbread and applesauce. Alpha Cindy gave us each a portion of cornbread and a bowl of milk. No wonder my friends were a bit chubby.
“I no like broccoli!” Jenny yelled.
“Eat it,” Cindy said.
“Oh fine,” Jenny said and held it out behind her back. I ate it out of her hand. She laughed and hugged me. I licked her face.
And so the days passed: winter, spring, summer, fall, winter again…and fall. I’m sitting on the couch along with my family: Jenny, Cindy, Yo-yo, Jo-Joe, Co-co, Sally, and Pie-pie. I lean against Jenny’s heart and hear Mom’s heartbeat. I look into the red-orange fire…and my long journey is over, but my new journey has only just begun.