A Life Worth Living

  A LIFE WORTH LIVING

  by

  Jennifer Probst

  This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the authors imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever is forbidden.

  A Life Worth Living @ 2011 by Jennifer Probst

  Cover by Dreamstime.com - Photographer Roman Samokhin

  Author's Note

  I'm a dog lover. I own two rescue dogs and received one of them from a pet shelter, Pets Alive, located in Pine Bush, NY. As a published writer of both romance novels and children's books, I always wondered what went through a dog's mind. One day, I was happily writing my book and a dog's voice flashed through my brain, insisting his story be told. Of course, I ignored the voice. What on earth would I do with a short story about a dog?

  But this dog would not be ignored. He remained firmly in my head, knocking me off kilter, until I surrendered. I wrote this story in a few hours, and felt his heartbreakingly strong voice must be heard. I decided to publish this myself and offer it in e-book form. I donate ALL proceeds to my local shelter, Pets Alive. You can check them out at their website:

  https://petsalive.com/

  I dedicate this story to everyone who has ever owned a dog, loved and lost an animal, or felt kinship to any of our furry creatures here on Earth. Be kind to them.

  I invite you to check out my other works at my website, https://www.jenniferprobst.com. I love hearing from my readers so please drop me a line at [email protected]

  Jennifer Probst

  A LIFE WORTH LIVING

  I'm an ordinary dog. I wasn't bad or mischievous like the famous Marley, or perfectly behaved and intelligent like Dean Koontz's golden lab, Trixie.. I haven't saved a life or done anything interesting. I never befriended a handicapped animal or lived in a library or have some awe inspiring lesson to teach anyone. Most days that passed, I realized no one would have cared if I crossed over the mythic Rainbow Bridge - which I still don't think I believe in. But one day I found love. I realized I mattered to someone. And that has made all the difference.

  I don't remember much before the shelter. I've heard humans block out memories that are too disturbing or tragic for the brain to assimilate, but I'm not sure if dogs work the way humans do. All I remember is flashes of my puppyhood; my mother's warm milk, fighting and rolling with my brothers and sisters on a brown fluffy carpet, and a female's tinkling laugh that made me happy. The images change when the man came for me but I was too little to do anything about it, I just remember hating his smell and sensing a badness in his core, nothing like my mom or the female with the laugh.

  The cage was cold and I was stuffed in with a bunch of other small dogs so there wasn't any room to move. I smelled my own feces and the other animals' - usually I rather liked the smell but many of them were sick, and the sickness assaulted my nostrils and bothered me. No place to run or play or roll. We had to fight for water and food, and most nights I'd look out the bars of my cage and watch the other animals whine and look confused. Some seemed to accept it and deal; others surrendered to the ugliness of the place and the man and gave up.

  He beat us. I don't dwell on the pain because I learned if you give in to it, the man wins. I learned to take it and block most of the blows with my rear - it hurt less. The cigarettes terrified me - the stink of the smoke searing my fur and his crazy laughter when I desperately tried to get away. He had a favorite game I dreaded. He'd take out a treat and stand by the door and beckon me with a phony voice. I don't think I'm a very stupid dog, I sensed the danger, but I needed to take a chance for the food. He rarely gave it to me - just took the opportunity to slam the door in my face to make sure I knew I'd never go free. Then he'd strike.

  Those years were a blur, but then the cage was gone and I was trapped in the house with hundreds of other dogs. The man never came back. No one came. Not sure how long we went without food and water. I had two friends: a black poodle and a lab; we stuck together. Found a dirty corner and huddled to keep warm and look out for any of the others who showed signs of madness. The madness ran rampant; the eyes of the dog turned and suddenly the jaws would snap in a fight to the death. Soon, our turn may come. I knew I may die, but had no idea what that really meant. I dealt hour by hour and tried to do my part to keep the three of us alive.

  The day I was rescued was almost as traumatic as my first day at the "house." Suddenly, light poured in from the boarded up windows and blinded me. Humans entered lined up in a row, with face masks and leashes. Their eyes registered an emotion close to horror, but they smelled fresh and clean and had a goodness that emanated from them, reminding me of the female with the laugh. I huddled with my friends, terrified they would split us up, but they made their way through the house with organization. We received water immediately. I remember the way the cold liquid felt against my aching tongue, and I lapped furiously, wanting to drown my crusted fur and body into the stuff. One of the rescuers tried to touch me, but I yanked back, unsure what he meant. He immediately retreated, respecting my space.

  They took us together in the same transporter. The drive terrified me - the unknown could be worse than what I did know. At least I had my friends and the bad man was gone. In the unknown place, there could be lots of bad men ready to beat me. Perhaps, it was a trick. I didn't know much of the human world any longer, so I trusted no one. Survival was key, yet when the new man had touched me my first instinct wasn't to bite, but huddle away. I hated that weakness within me. I wanted to be like the German shepherd before he went mad. He used to stare at the bad man with a determined hate in his eyes and take the beatings without a whimper. Drove the man crazy. But he didn't make it. Still, I think of that German shepherd a lot. I wish I was more like him.

  When I arrived at the place, time passed in a blur. Humans spoke in soft voices and told me things like it would be ok. Wasn't sure what it meant - I had no time to learn the language - but the tone soothed me and didn't seem like the bad man trick. I got food, crunchy, delicious, dry food that filled my stomach. Something they called a bath. At first I fought, but I learned water is good, and warm, and some soapy stuff took the dirty crud and poop away. It hurt a bit where the bad man had burned me, but someone put some sticky substance on it and I felt much better.

  I was examined by some man who seemed very gentle and careful. Again, not like the bad man. It was when they first put me in the cage that I lost my sanity.

  The bars clinked in a terrible way - and my friends were no longer there. I'm embarrassed to say I completely lost it. I howled and spun around in circles, calling for my black poodle and lab, insane with fear that my experience would start all over again, just with nicer people. I know humans can't understand dog language, and I curse my inexperience with their language, but I tried in every way possible to communicate what I needed. They tried to contain me, but this one woman took control and just let me have my tantrum. She watched me with a steady gaze, calm and sure, until I lay panting, and pleading with my eyes.

  The first miracle of my life occurred since I left the female with the laugh.

  Almost as if she understood, she disappeared and came back with my two friends. We greeted each other in sheer relief, clean smelling and dry, a strange new scent in the air. We made sure we were all ok and agreed that this seemed like a better place. The woman nodded and left us with cozy blankets and fresh water and we all collapsed in a heap and slept.

  The days at that place passed in a blur, but I began to feel safe again. My
friends were treated well, given food and water, and different people would take us out of the cage for something called a "walk." They attached a long rope and put a circle around the neck and then led me around. At first I refused, but after seeing some of the other dogs enjoy it, I gave it a whirl. I got to walk for long periods of time and the smells and sounds drove me crazy. So much to experience! The feel of fresh earth and dirt under my feet, crisp soft green grass, tall sticks with funny things sticking out of them. The scratch of chipmunks and squirrels and the chirp of animals called birds. I tried to chase them but they were always faster and I was controlled by the leash. Some of them even lifted to the sky. I began to learn I needed to pee and poop outside, because I no longer had to do it in my cage. That took me a while, and at first I didn't like it. Felt too exposed, like someone could watch or beat me, but eventually I realized no one hit here.

  Eventually, my two friends left. First the black poodle, then the lab. I didn't freak out as much because I knew they had gotten "homes." This was a word I learned when a nice family came and brought you to another nice place. I missed them, and I was lonely in my cage, but I didn't feel ready to meet anyone new.

  Then the woman came.

  I was brought into the social room. This is where people come and pet you and talk to you and then you go back to your cage. She was pretty, with long hair and a really nice voice. She smelled like other animals - musty and delicious, and she sat with me on the couch for a long time, petting me, hugging me. I trusted her right away - there was definitely no badness there or trickery. After a while, I waited to go back to my cage, but instead they put me on the leash and the woman led me outside and into a car.

  She settled me in the back seat and I was very excited to go on a ride, but nervous. Then she drove away. That was the last I saw of the nice place and my friends. I still miss my friends a lot, looking back, they were a part of my survival. But living with the woman brought me a peace I had never experienced before.

  The first few nights were rough. It was a new house, a new cage, and new rules. I peed a few times and knew she was upset, but my bladder was so nervous I couldn't control it. The smells overruled me and I ran around frantically, trying to catalogue my new space and make it mine. I never understood why humans look at dogs like we're going crazy. I've seen people walk around new spaces, taking note of and claiming their space so they're comfortable. Same thing with dogs - do they really expect we just plop ourselves down someplace we don't know without charting the territory?

  I had no idea how old I was at that time. No idea how many years I spent with bad man, or stayed at the nice place. At first, I kept waiting to go somewhere else when the woman was done with me. I had issues. I wasn't aggressive, but I drooled a lot and I think this bothered the woman. She'd clean up the puddles of saliva on the floor and make a tsk tsk sound, but she never yelled. Once my hair began to grow back and the cigarette burns healed, I realized I shed. Big thicks tufts of fur floated in the air, and sometimes I'd watch in wonder that I could have so much fur. The lady did more tsking and took me out in the back a lot to run a brush over me. Once I learned not to be afraid of it, I kind of liked the feeling. I was soothed into a semi sleep while I felt the sun warm my face and listened to the birds. After a while, I began to realize something quite incredible.

  The woman loved me.

  Her name was Kate.

  Kate was thin and fit, and had a robust laugh. It didn't tinkle like the other lady, but that was ok. Kate liked to run and take me with her and it became my favorite time of the day between us. My paws pounding on the pavement, tongue lolling out, ears flung back as I raced with the wind in my face. I reached a peace and freedom I never had before, and I was happy.

  Kate left me alone most of the day but I became used to the silence and kind of liked it. She kept on Animal Planet for me on the television, and I finally learned English and lots of things about other animals. For a little while, I believed everything was going to be ok in my life.

  But a new man came and I thought it was all over.

  He came one evening with Kate, plopped himself on the couch and stayed. I didn't want to get near him, but knew I had to protect Kate if he was bad. He didn't smell bad, and his tone wasn't fake when he called me over to pet me, but I had no trust for him and refused to get near. He thought it was quite funny, so he got up fast from the couch, and my instincts slammed into overdrive. I got down on my back paws fast and hit the ground in a cower. As I waited for the blow, all I heard was silence. When I finally peeked, Kate and the man stared at me with sheer horror on their faces. I knew I had done something wrong and I would be leaving now. But Kate just shook her head and whispered, "Oh, honey, what did they do to you?" Then she cuddled and hugged me, and the man seemed to get angry, speaking about the bad people who abuse animals. He never pushed me after that, and I decided to give him a chance.

  The man stayed. His name was Sam. Soon, Sam moved in with Kate and me, and I have to admit I loved having another male in the house. He understood things that Kate didn't, like when we were watching the basketball game on the comfy couch, we didn't want to look at what Kate bought at the store, or listen to her chatter about something we couldn't understand, or bug us to clean up in the middle of the quarter. Sam would look at me and roll his eyes and I would snort in agreement.

  I got better and healthier. I was still afraid of doors, and instinctively cowered around them, afraid of a beating. But nothing ever happened, and eventually, I learned to walk through doors with my head held high.

  A dog's life is quite simple. Eat, sleep, take a walk. Watch tv, nap and eat again. Trail your owners whenever possible just to soak up the joy of their sheer presence. Catch a ball now and then or go for a run. Beg for table scraps. Then go back to sleep.

  That's it. No rocket science there. I think I did pretty well being a good dog. I didn't give them any trouble and I loved them. That's all they asked from me. I was happy. We were happy.

  The seizures began then. At least, that's what I heard Kate call them when she was speaking to the vet. Sort of like blackouts in my brain. They didn't hurt, but Sam took me to the vet for different tests and I hate the vet. Whenever I get sick I try to pretend I'm fine since I hate the doctor. But they dragged me there anyway and I got stuck with a bunch of needles. Now, I have some pills I take and I try to spit them out, but then Sam got smart and rolled them in the special cheese I like so I decided to let him win.

  The pills kept my blackouts under control, and then the baby came. Kate became fat and she smelled completely different. She cried and got mad and I tried to stay out of her way when she got in a mood. Sam was my buddy for those last few months and took most of the hit. Then she disappeared for a few days and came back with a squirmy baby human wrapped in a blanket.

  They let me sniff him and even let me lick his arm. He tasted delicious. All warm and soft and sweet smelling. I knew he was very delicate and needed to be watched, so that's when I began sleeping in his nursery. I always guarded the door to make sure no bad animals or bad men got to him. I knew I wasn't aggressive, but felt I could go for the jugular if any bad men tried to hurt him. I'd die first.

  They named the baby Sam Jr and he kept growing bigger. When he started moving around the house, I had to hide a lot, but he always found me. I'd sigh deeply when he climbed on top of me and pulled my tail. Sam Jr sometimes hurt me a little but it was never anything I was afraid of. I knew he loved me and he didn't do it on purpose. Usually Kate yelled at him right away and made me feel bad.

  I got fat. I found new ways to steal from Sam Jr and got extra portions of food. The seizures began coming again and my body began to hurt. I knew I was old. Not sure how old, but getting up and down the stairs was difficult on my knees. I needed more naps and wanted to run less. The pills made me drink a lot of water, and I had some trouble keeping my bladder from exploding. Quite embarrassing, really. Why does old age have to be so undignified?

  Sam and Kate talked about
me in low voices so I know they were worried. I got new medication and went back and forth to the doctor. They started talking about something called an "operation" and the funds. I knew money was tight since Kate stayed home with Sam Jr. The idea that I could cause them such a problem bothered me. I'd lay awake at night and wish I was a smarter dog, so I could make myself leave this life with sheer will so they wouldn't have to spend money on me.

  As my body caused me more pain, and my bladder became harder to control, I knew it was time for me to go. I wonder if humans feel the same way. One morning, I just woke up and knew I wasn't meant to be in the human world any longer. I didn't know what came after. They talked about this rainbow bridge, but like heaven, I wasn't sure if it existed. But I did hope. Because I wanted to be back with Kate and Sam and Sam Jr again. They taught me what being a dog is all about. My life was simple but I knew what it was to love someone. That made me happy.

  Later on, Kate and I were in the kitchen alone. I lay down and fought a moan as a terrible pain seized my bones. She came over and sat on the floor beside me. Sam was in the nursery playing with the baby. She talked to me then, about our life together, and how she loved me. She stroked my fur and looked into my eyes.

  And I used all my strength to tell her to let me go. Frustrated with my inability to speak English, I used my emotions and my love for her so she would look in my eyes and know.

  She sat and stared at me for a long time. Then her eyes filled with tears and she nodded. Smiled at me and kissed my head. And said, "Ok, Lester. Ok."

  She left me. Sam and the baby came down and told me goodbye. Sam cried and Sam Jr gave me a big hug. Then Kate got her coat and they put me in the car. My body quivered with joy. I had done it. Somehow, I had made her see what I needed. She would not have to spend money on an operation. I had gone out on my own terms.

  They set me up in the back room and Kate talked a long time. The needle hurt, but then a wonderful feeling of lightness overcame by body. It was like falling into a delicious slumber, inch by inch nearing toward the darkness, but there was no fear of nightmares, just knowledge everything would be ok. I left feeling a warm hand on my back and staring into the eyes of the woman I loved.