One of my earliest memories is of being ripped away from the only world I knew—my mom, dad, and all my brothers and sisters were gone forever, it seemed.
BY STEPHEN MACKISOC
IMAGE BY KoolShooters
As a dog lover, I have often said that I wish canines could speak. There seems to be so much going on in their heads, so I’ll remove myself from the dialogue now and let Iggy the dog tell his own story.
My first memory is a little fuzzy, but I recall being pushed around and then feeling something wet against my lips. I thought I was blind, but I would later find out this was how all of us began our lives in this world. I began to chew, and some sort of liquid came out. I remember it being very tasty, its warmth filling my sore, empty belly. A few days later, my eyes opened, and I saw the food source for the first time. It was an almost constant battle to latch onto one of those funnels of food and drink as much as I could before getting shoved out of the way by one of my many brothers or sisters.
I would come to know this food source to be my mother. She was pretty cool and did everything to help us grow and stay healthy. There were also regular visits where we got cleaned up, poked, prodded, and even stuck with something they called a needle. That hurt, but my mom was there right after, licking the sore spot. Soon, eight weeks had passed, and the day started like any other with lots of barking, running around, and, of course, eating. Then, I was picked up by something that looked completely different from all of us. It lacked fur and smelled funny. I thought I must’ve smelled funny too because this thing was sniffing me all over and holding me up to its face.
It was seven sleeps later that my life changed completely. I found myself being carried out to a different room.
I would learn this person was to be my new mommy, but I didn’t want a new mommy. I wanted to keep the mommy I had. She was nice and really warm and snuggly, but she certainly did not smell like my mom. She said she was adopting me. I had no idea what that meant or what would come of me, so I cried and whined until I threw up everywhere and then went to sleep. When I awoke, she was carrying me to a big box that didn’t move at all, and I was all wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket. My mom was gone, my brothers and sisters were gone, and I felt so alone.
When I woke up again, she put me into what she called a crate with a bunch of soft blankets and things to chew on and play with and then closed the door. I was shaking, and I was so scared. I had no idea where I was and didn’t like being without my brothers, sisters, mom, and dad. I lay there shivering and crying all night long. I felt so alone and didn’t like this feeling at all. After what felt like forever, she finally returned, opened the crate, and let me out. I walked around cautiously and sniffed everything hoping to smell something familiar. I didn’t, but the smells weren’t bad, they were simply different.
Every time my new mom took me out of my crate, she scratched my ears and rubbed my belly, which felt really good. I thought this might not be too bad after all, but I still missed my real family. Soon I was learning all kinds of new things. I learned a bunch of their words but couldn’t say any myself. I found out that when she said “sit” and I put my butt on the ground, I would get a tasty snack. It was the same for many other mundane tasks which, quite honestly, I felt were beneath me.
After all, my real parents were hunters, exceptionally good ones. They could find birds no matter where they hid and then bark to scare them into the air. I knew inside that I was just like them and not at all like these “people.”
My new mom seemed so happy the first time we were outside, and I spotted one of those flying things.
Without even thinking of it, my front leg raised itself off the ground and bent at my wrist. My body got stiff, my short tail stuck straight out behind me, and my head was looking directly at it. Why couldn’t she see it, I thought, I could see it. I didn’t move a muscle, hoping she would see what I saw. She scratched my floppy brown ears, rubbed my sides, and then held my head close to hers as she said, “good boy, that’s a good boy.” After that, I would spot those flying things everywhere. One day, something snapped inside of me. I got away from my mommy and ran all over the place trying to get that thing. I ran and jumped and ran and jumped, but I just couldn’t catch it. I soon gave up.
It was when I was walking back to her that I first noticed how odd she looked. She only used two legs to stand and walked with her front legs hanging off the sides of her top. I tried to tell her how inefficient that was, but she just could not understand me. I mean, how did she get around like that? The good news is that she had short, dark hair, and she smelled good, just like my real mom. I could now understand almost everything she said but she could not comprehend anything I tried to say. I knew that I had to share my thoughts with her some other way and that is what I tried to do. I would rub against her legs, sniff her all over, and try to kiss her whenever her face was close to mine. I would lay in her lap in front of this loud, large box on the wall that seemed to fascinate her. She would rest her hand on my head and gently scratch my ears as I lay there. She was still not my real mom, but this all felt good, and I often found myself trying to get as close to her as I could. She kept calling me a Velcro dog, whatever that means.
We would go to the woods on long walks, and she would hold me back as I tried to get her interested in the birds. Nothing seemed to work, no matter how often I pointed at them she just didn’t seem to care. Eventually, I stopped doing that and just enjoyed being outside: I especially liked the feeling of the soft, cushy green stuff she called grass on my paws.
We soon started going to this place called a dog park. There were really high see-through walls, just like my crate, which kept us from getting away. We all ran around like crazy and there were loads of other people just like me, walking and running normally, while our “parents” all stood around in a group. I was shocked one day when I was busy sniffing butts and I recognized something. This one was familiar, she even looked just like me, and that was when it hit me; SHE WAS ONE OF MY SISTERS. I was elated and we both jumped for joy and ran around together the rest of the day. We were inseparable and I never left her side, hoping she would be leaving with us. My mom said we had to go home, and she pulled me away from her as I kept trying to go back, never once stopping whining, and barking. Why can’t we bring her with us?
As the years passed, I knew this was my home and I knew she was my mom. I had no idea where my real parents were, but the hurt wasn’t as painful. We did everything together and I was always at her side. I loved it when she would cradle my head in her hands and look into my eyes telling me how much she loved me. I still couldn’t talk but I did my best to tell her with my own eyes that I loved her too, and that she is my mommy. It seemed the older we got the closer we became, and I never wanted to be away from her. I still slept in my crate but every now and then she let me up on her sleeping mat, there wasn’t even a crate around us. I would curl up and sleep behind her legs on the big mat and it felt so good, I’d tuck my nose in tight against the back of her leg and stay like that until breakfast time.
Then one day I woke up and I could barely move. I was so sore and my whole body ached. I didn’t feel like eating, playing, or doing anything else. I just wanted to stay wrapped up in the softness of all my blankets. I didn’t move for a long time and Mom said we had to go to a place called the vet. She bundled me up in my favourite blanket and carried me out to the car, I thought maybe we were going to the park again. I felt so bad I didn’t even get up to look outside, I just lay there crying.
Then I met a nice lady who gave me treats and felt me all over. She stuck something in my ears and opened my mouth to look inside as I lay there. She spoke quietly to my mom and then my mom started crying as she picked me up and held me tight.
I had no idea what was going on and I looked at her and tried to tell her what was wrong, but I don’t think she understood. She bundled me up and carried me home and I slept with her on her big mat that night. In the morning, she tried to give me some of my favourite treats, but I did not feel like eating anything. I was really sore all over again, but then she opened my mouth and put something in. After a while, the pain went away, but I still couldn’t move. She held me close to her and told me how much she loved me as I nuzzled my wet nose into her warm neck. I wished so much that I could tell her the same things, but all that came out were whines. She bundled me up again and took me back to the car. When we stopped moving, she took me out of the car and gently set me on the ground. Two others who looked like me walked over and started smelling me. I was so happy that one was my sister, but I didn’t recognize the other one. I think they both knew I wasn’t feeling well because they snuggled up on each side of me and kept me warm. We lay there together, just like when we were puppies. It was great to see them again.
We went back to the vet the next day and my mom was quiet the whole way. I usually never got to sit up front, but she had my head laying in her lap with my blanket covering me as we drove. She lifted me out of the car gently with my favourite blankets and carried me inside. She looked so sad.
She carried me to a small room in the back. I was scared she was going to leave, but she never did. My mommy held me tight, I felt a little bite in one of my legs and then I felt better. Nothing hurt anymore. I felt like me again, but I was still too weak to move. I didn’t understand why my mom was crying again. I was now laying on a bed. She held me on her chest and softly spoke to me as I got really sleepy.
She rubbed me, cuddled me, and told how much she loved me, and I just snuggled against her, smelling her with my nose on her neck and giving her what I didn’t know would be one last lick.
I loved her so much, and I hoped she knew that. My eyes eventually opened, and everything felt different. I was no longer in the room, and where was my mom? There was a bright blue sky above and that green stuff was everywhere. I looked up and saw a beautiful bridge surrounded by huge green trees and all kinds of people just like me. Everyone was running around and playing and there was no hurt, no pain—just happiness, everywhere.
It was a beautiful place, and I felt like I was home as I walked slowly toward the rainbow bridge to join all the others. As I stepped onto the wonderful bridge, I took one last look behind me just in case mom was with me. I wished I could smell her and cuddle with her just one more time, but I was happy I had known her, and I hope she would be happy again too, just like me.
Stephen Mackisoc is a retired CEO now pursuing a second career as a writer in Halifax. He is currently enrolled in the Creative Writing Graduate Certificate program at Humber and hopes to complete his sixth novel within the course, working closely with his mentor. His nom de plume is C.C. Chamberlane.
Image: Yellow Ceramic Dog Figurine on Bed (KoolShooters)
Edited for publication by Husain Reza Razvi, as part of the Professional Writing and Communications Program.
HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation.