Harley’s Second Chance: Chapter 1

(Harley)

It wasn’t always like this. I was never the one to be left behind. I used to be someone’s girl. The first and last on someone’s mind. But, I guess everything changes with time.

The walls never used to be quite so high. The floors were never this hard on my bones. I used to lie on pillows and dig my paws into the warm sand. Now, I’m just another old hag stuffed in cement kennels along with the rest of the unwanted mutts.

It wasn’t a dream life. I never got everything I ever wanted, but it was better than this could ever be. I had a home, and a friend. He shared his fries with me after they got cold and stale. And he’d let me sleep on the couch with him whenever he passed out after his drunken buddies would leave. He never forced baths on me and haircuts were out of his budget, so that was a relief. And sometimes, when he thought his life was going just the way he wanted it to, he would take me to the dog beach. That’s where I always felt that my life could never get any better. It wasn’t very often that his life was so good, but now that I spend all my days stuck in a kennel, even his worst days seem like great ones to me now.

There are no windows here, just clocks that tick meaningless tocks. I sleep when I’m bored. I sleep when I’m sad. I sleep when I’m sleepy. Mostly, I just sleep, so I don’t know how long I’ve been here. But the question is, does it really matter?

“Look at that ugly dog,” I heard some stupid kid say. I didn’t even bother to lift my head. I knew he was talking about me. Instead, I let out a loud sigh and licked my dry lips, my tongue touching the cold cement. I had been in this place that humans call a shelter long enough to not remember too many details from my life before. I keep telling myself it’s better that way, but who am I kidding? Lying here in this kennel, all but forgotten by the world, while still knowing you’re somehow a part of it, is the worst part of it all. That, and having your human leave you behind, but I’m pretty much over that — I think.

I still don’t know what I did. It couldn’t have been that sandal I chewed. It was an old mangy thing that I just had to relieve of its suffering before another hole formed in the sole. Besides, after two nights of being left alone, I was getting hungry.

Unless this is what a dog gets for peeing behind the sofa, but that can’t be it either. How could they be mad at me when I went out of my way to make sure they didn’t see it? I might be just a dog, but every dog knows that humans can’t smell anything compared to our noses, and even I could barely make out the scent. Right?

It was getting harder to remember. In a place like this, even your own smells starts to smell like all the other dogs, until you can’t tell the difference between your own scent and theirs.

It’s Thursday. I think. Or maybe it’s Friday. Who cares? My favorite day of the week was Sunday anyway because that’s when Charlie and I used to spend the day on the couch watching football and drinking beer.

Yep, he even let me take a lick sometimes. Then one day, he went away and never came back. A few days later, his sister Cora came and brought me here. I never liked her anyway. I still think about Charlie, sometimes, but if he didn’t come back for me then, I knew there was no hope he would come back now.

No, I was on my own, and unless I did something soon, I would spend the rest of my miserable life here, in this cold, corner kennel of a humane society. But there was no one here that wanted me, and I sure as heck didn’t want any of them either.

I heard the door to the dog kennels creak and then creak again. That was odd. The only time that door creaked was when someone hesitated to open it. I wondered who that was and why they were so unsure. It’s not like we could attack the person. Every dog was locked behind a gate. Most people just barged right in and walked by, looking down on us like we were vermin instead of potential best friends.

I raised my nose to the air and took a long hard whiff, hoping the person’s scent would be carried to the farthest corner. It was, and in that moment, I leapt up onto all fours and let out a loud yelp. I heard the door slam shut and my heart sank. Did I scare him away? There were footsteps; soft, steady, long strides and they were getting closer. His scent was intoxicating, like something I’d just dreamed about. For the first time since being left here, I had hope, or at least a desire to be adopted. I was done with this place. I wanted to go home, but not to any home, I wanted to go home with him.

And then just like magic, he appeared in front of my kennel. Tall and husky, a flannel shirt unbuttoned revealing a black t-shirt underneath and blue jeans that smelled like they hadn’t been washed in years. But it was the other scent about him that made my tail wag. He smelled like Charlie on a Sunday afternoon.

“Hey there, Buddy.” His voice was low, but melodic. I decided right away that I liked it. There was just one problem. He called me Buddy. I was a girl. Could a guy who reeked of beer and sweat and dirt learn to love a girl dog? I’d even let him call me Buddy if he really wanted to.

One of the shelter volunteers approached him and they spoke in hushed tones. The man started to walk away and my heart sank again. “Woof” I barked, careful not to scare him, but loud enough to get his attention.

It worked. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me with his brow raised. Slowly, he walked over and stuck his long, large fingers into the holes of the gate. I rubbed the side of my head against the tips and then gently licked between the fingers, closer to the knuckles. He laughed, as I knew he would. That place always tickles on the human hand. I sat down, leaning against the gate, staring into his eyes every few seconds. If only I could talk human.

“You want to come home with me?” He finally asked.

My heart fluttered and my breath caught in my throat. I thought my tail would break off because it was wagging so hard and so fast. He smiled at me again; his eyes were soft and tender. “I’m Mitch,” he said. “Now we just have to figure out what to call you.”

I licked his fingers again. He could call me anything he wanted, as long as he called me his.

Continue reading! Chapter 2 is now available.