The Pit of Despair By Neal Wooten

Chapter One

It began to sink home ─ this was permanent. Mutt lay with his head resting on his front paws and tried to peer through the darkness of the basement. It was damp and reeked of urine. Were there other dogs here? It smelled like there were but each time he barked out a “hello,” there was no response. Mutt missed his siblings, and his mother. He could still remember struggling to get at the milk amongst his brothers and sisters wiggling around and scurrying for the same treat. But it was nice and warm with his mother, who licked and caressed him every day. Just when he was starting to get used to his family, he was taken away and put in this wire cage. It was uncomfortable to his belly with no blanket or even paper in the bottom. The concrete floor was freezing and there was hardly enough room to walk around inside the tiny enclosure. Mutt heard the basement door open and the single dangling light bulb flashed to life. He jumped up and wagged his tail. The same man who put him here came every day, once a day, with food. Mutt peered into the far corners as far as he could into the dimly lit reaches of the room, but the light did not illuminate very well. He was sure he was alone. “Here ya go, Mutt,” the man said as he dumped the glop into the bowl inside the cage. Then, like every day, he took the water hose and sprayed Mutt and washed out the bottom of the cage. When that was done, he filled the water dish. Mutt jumped up and down hoping this would be the day the man would take him outside to run and play. But like every other day, the man abruptly turned and walked back up the stairs, turning off the light as he exited. Mutt turned his attention to the mush and began to eat. It wasn’t very good, but it was nourishment. This was his life. The months passed as the routine continued. Mutt was growing despite this horrible diet. By the time he was nine months old, he had grown into a young adult pit bull. His coat was mostly brown with white paws and a large white spot on his chest. Other than that, the only marking was a dark teardrop-shaped area that seemed to drop from his right eye. Ironically, it was tears that had formed the dark spot over months of crying himself to sleep. Then one day his life would change. “Hey, Mutt. Let’s go.” The man came this day not with food, but a leash. Mutt eagerly jumped up and down. As the leash was slipped over his neck, he knew his life was about to get better. He lifted his front paws against the man’s leg to get attention and show his gratitude, but was ignored. But he was happy. He was getting out of this little cage. Up the stairs and out the back door they went. The sunlight was so bright it hurt his eyes. He was led to a small fenced-in area and the man removed the leash. The fence was made of wood: old pallets and dirty plywood. Mutt ran all around and sniffed everywhere. Other dogs had definitely been here. He could smell their scent: their sweat and their blood. Blood? “Yeah, he’ll do,” another man said. Mutt wagged his tail in agreement. The other man walked away and returned with a full grown pit bull and led him into the same area where Mutt was. Mutt was glad to finally be with another dog, but as much as he wanted to rush to his new friend, his instincts made him wary. The other dog was huge, and was staring at Mutt with glowing red eyes and fangs on full display. Mutt began to wonder if this was the other dog’s domain. He didn’t mean to trespass if that was the problem. The other man stepped out of the fence and reached over and released the clip that held the big dog on its leash. He jumped and made a beeline straight for Mutt. Mutt cowered, making sure to show no sign of aggression to the larger canine, but it didn’t matter. The large pit bull came right at him with his teeth bared. The first bite caught Mutt around the neck and sank past the first layer of flesh. “Yelp!” Mutt screamed out in pain and tried to free himself. He managed to get away but there was nowhere to run. The larger dog caught him easily and continued his assault. Mutt tried futilely to fight back, but he was overmatched. Why weren’t the men trying to help him? Mutt didn’t understand. “Get him, Bullet,” both men yelled. Mutt couldn’t believe it. They were cheering for the larger dog. It lasted for several minutes. Mutt began to get dizzy from the blood loss. Finally the men came to his rescue and it took all their strength to get the other dog off of him. Then they petted and praised the bigger dog as Mutt lay there barely conscious. “Come on, Mutt!” the man yelled. “Come on. Let’s go.” Mutt tried to get up but his front leg was hurt badly. He whimpered as he tried to move. “Dang it,” the man shouted, and walked over and grabbed Mutt by the fur of his neck and dragged him all the way back inside, down the stairs, and back into the cage. He turned the hose on and sprayed Mutt and then filled his water dish, but left without leaving any food. Mutt lay on the cold floor and began to lick his wounds. But there were so many of them. His front leg seemed to be the worst, but he could still feel the warmth of the blood flowing down his neck from the first bite. What had he done to make them punish him so? After a restless night he was very stiff in the morning. His fur was matted with mud and blood. When the man came down to feed him, Mutt didn’t move, only lay with his head on his paws and looked up wearily hoping that the man wasn’t going to open the cage. It was the first time he had ever not wanted to be let out. The man fed him but didn’t bother with the hose. Mutt hadn’t been to the bathroom since he returned and his water dish was still full. The days turned into weeks as the wounds healed and Mutt was soon able to put pressure on his front leg again. But two months after his terrible ordeal, the man came down the stairs with the leash again. Mutt jumped up and cowered in the back of the cage. “Come on, Mutt.” The man reached in and slid the leash around his neck and dragged him out. Mutt struggled and fought but to no avail. He was pulled up the stairs and back out into the fenced area. Another man was there again. Maybe it was the same man as before. Mutt wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. He didn’t run around this time, only stayed on his side of the arena and waited for what he knew was coming. He didn’t have to wait long. The other man brought another large pit bull into the area, a different one, but just as large and mean. Mutt’s muscles began to shake and he sat and shivered awaiting the inevitable. The other dog was released and came running. Instincts and anger took over and Mutt jumped to meet him. He lunged with his own teeth bared and met the dog head on. The men cheered. But the other dog was too powerful and pushed Mutt back against the fence and tore into his shoulder with his large fangs. Once again Mutt felt the teeth tear into his flesh. He twisted and tried to get away but the larger dog pushed him down to the ground and continued his assault, biting Mutt wherever his teeth could find a place to inflict damage. The dirt filled Mutt’s mouth as he was pressed hard against the ground. Then he noticed the other dog’s front paw was mere inches from his own mouth. Mutt opened up his jaws and bit down as hard as he could. The other dog cried out in pain and tried to yank his leg away but Mutt clamped down tighter and held on for all he was worth. The men rushed in and forced Mutt’s jaws open to free the larger dog. “What the heck?” the other man yelled. “Your dog is trying to hurt my prize fighter.” “Bad dog,” the first man yelled and began beating Mutt with his hand. Mutt didn’t care. The man’s hand hurt but not as bad as the dog’s teeth. The man led Mutt back to his cage. Mutt walked under his own power this time and this time the man fed him before leaving. “Not bad, little fellow,” the man said with a smile as he left for the night. His sentiment meant nothing to Mutt. Nothing meant anything to him anymore. A month later the man appeared with the leash again. Mutt didn’t care. He followed the man out of the house and back into the fight area. Mutt sat straight and tall as the man unleashed him. He wasn’t scared this time. He wasn’t angry. He was indifferent, but he had decided this man did not get to control him anymore. When the larger pit bull was brought into the fence on the opposite side, Mutt simply stared. When they released the other dog, Mutt didn’t react at all; he simply stared at the other dog to show him how ashamed he was of both of them. With Mutt not running or fighting, it took the other dog by surprise, and he stopped inches from Mutt and growled trying to provoke him. Mutt stood firm. This outraged the men who started yelling at the other dog. Terrified of the consequences, the other dog attacked Mutt. Mutt didn’t fight back. Before long Mutt was bleeding and lying on the ground. His vision began to blur and everything went black.

Chapter Two

His eyes slowly opened part way. The sun was shining but Mutt didn’t know where he was. He struggled to open his eyes wider. Wherever he was, it stank worse than the basement. He tried to rise but was in too much pain. He tried to assess his injuries but there were too many of them. He could barely move, and even breathing was difficult. Suddenly he heard a sound. He moved his neck enough to see a large truck backing toward him making loud beeping noises as it approached. Mutt wanted to run but couldn’t even crawl. The truck got to within ten feet of him and stopped. A man got out of the passenger side, walked to the back, and motioned to the driver. There was a loud clank as the back of the truck began to tilt. After it was almost all the way upright, a huge load of garbage came rushing out of the swinging doors. The man never saw Mutt and got back into the truck and it drove away. Mutt was able to roll upright and survey the area. It was a landfill and he was lying on top of tons of trash. He was in bad shape and knew he had to find food and water if he was to survive. It took him several attempts to be able to stand. But he was so wobbly he couldn’t take a step for several more minutes. As he limped past the pile of garbage the truck had recently deposited, he smelled something. It was hard to smell anything since the whole area had an awful odor, but he could still detect the scent of food. He rummaged around until he found a white bag and tore into it to find a half-eaten hamburger. He quickly gulped it down. As he struggled to walk away from the dump site, he saw a huge rut in the road filled with brown water. At this point he wasn’t picky and drank. It was gritty but very much needed. After he drank his fill, he lay down in the muddy hole and rolled around so that the mud would help stop any wounds still bleeding. It stung all over. He got out of the mud and stood looking around him. The entire landfill was surrounded by trees except for the road coming into it. He didn’t know what to do or which way to go. The woods might be safer, but could he find food? There might be food down the road, but there would be humans too, and that meant trouble, at least to Mutt. Something caught his eye. Movement. He scanned the tree line at the back of the dump and finally saw it. Was it a dog? It resembled a dog, but Mutt’s instincts told him it wasn’t. Mutt didn’t know the word “coyote” but knew it wasn’t safe. Had he been healthy, a coyote would have been no threat to him. But in his weakened condition; he might not be able to defend himself. Plus, there were probably more than just the one he saw. That made the decision for him as he slowly limped down the road where the garbage truck had vanished earlier. There were no signs of people for the first mile down the road. Occasionally looking back behind him, his suspicions were confirmed as he saw several coyotes following at a distance, darting out of sight as his eyes found them, and gaining on him. He pressed on as fast as his broken body would allow. Finally he came to a small green house. There were two vehicles in the driveway so obviously someone was home. Mutt didn’t trust people, not anymore, but he knew he had to find a place to hide from the coyotes. He noticed a small opening that led underneath the house and made his way there. The hungry hunters were right on his tail as he pushed himself through the tight fit and into the musky, dust-layered underbelly of the house. The coyotes began to howl perhaps anticipating an attack attempt. Mutt watched closely for any sign of them coming through the opening. But the humans would save him, even if it wasn’t intentional. “Get away from here, you mongrels,” a gruff voice cried out as the man ran out onto the porch. Suddenly there was a loud boom, which made Mutt flinch. But he could hear the coyotes retreating into the nearby woods. He breathed a little easier and fell asleep. He awoke early the next morning and it was raining hard. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about water, but where would he find food? He dared not approach the humans in the house. It was doubtful they would treat him any differently than the coyotes, and he really didn’t want to learn what had made that loud explosion. He made his way out from under the house and scanned the edge of the woods for any sign of the coyotes. He saw none, so he headed for the safety of the trees. His body still ached all over and the rain was beginning to wash the mud from his coat. In the forest he found many small pools of fresh rainwater to drink, and even stumbled upon a small stream. As he drank freely from the small branch, he saw ripples in the water. It was a little animal with fins swimming around. He watched a few minutes and decided to try to catch it. He stabbed at it with open jaws several times but missed. He decided to try one more time before giving up. He did it. He caught the fish in his mouth and stepped back away from the water as it flipped and flopped in his teeth. He dropped it on the ground and held it with his paws. He had never had sushi before, but he was starving. He ate every bit of the fish but the bones. It wasn’t great, but it was much needed protein. The rain stopped and Mutt decided to survey his surroundings. He stayed just in the edge of the woods, ready to retreat deeper if he saw people, or ready to leave the woods if he ran into his coyote friends. The houses were about a half mile apart all the way down the road to where it ended into a much larger highway. Each house had a deep backyard that led from the woods to the back doors. One had a chicken house. Mutt wasn’t sure what they were, but was sure they would constitute as food. He very slowly started sneaking toward the wooden structure where the chickens were roosting. “Get out of here, you mutt,” screamed a man as he ran out of the house carrying a long rod made of steel and wood. Suddenly the air erupted with the loud boom again and Mutt heard the pellets hit the trees behind him. He quickly made himself invisible in the woods and didn’t look back. Now he knew what made the noise from the other house and why it scared the coyotes like it did. He also wondered how this man knew his name. The days passed as Mutt grew stronger. He found scraps here and there to eat and was able to catch another fish. But he wasn’t getting enough to eat and that would soon become a problem. As he was walking through the woods one day, he came upon another backyard and cautiously looked to see if he could find any source of food. He knew it was dangerous, but what choice did he have? He could smell humans, a fresh scent as if they were nearby, but he saw nothing. “Hey there, little fellow.” Mutt jumped back and scanned the scene. “I’m right here,” the gentle voice said. Mutt finally saw her, a tiny old woman sitting in a chair in front of a large walnut tree. She had short white hair and wore an old dress. He didn’t move. The old woman rose and walked slowly toward her house. Mutt backed into the trees and watched from a distance. The woman went inside and reappeared only moments later and walked directly toward him. He backed up farther. She came right to the edge of the woods and dropped something on the ground and slowly returned to her home. After she was inside, Mutt slowly approached, looking left and right very suspiciously as he came forward. When he reached the spot, he couldn’t believe it. There on the ground were several raw wieners, one small cooked sausage, and two pieces of bread. He gobbled it down quickly and ran away. That was a life saver, perhaps literally. The next day Mutt made his usual journeys and around noon decided to head back to the old woman’s home. When he got there, he was in for a shock. There were two dog bowls where the food had been yesterday. He carefully approached and found one bowl to be filled with dry dogfood and the other with clear, clean water. He ate the entire bowl and drank all the water. It was so much better than creek and rain water. That became his routine. Every day the two bowls were filled with food and water and he happily demolished it each day. Soon the woods were filled with trails as his routes had become fairly repetitive operations. He still drank, swam, and fished in the stream, and he even visited the landfill every day. The coyotes had gotten used to him in their woods, but since he had regained his health, they gave him a wide berth. Life was not bad. In fact, not counting the first six weeks with his real family, this was the best he ever had it. But it was a tad lonesome. The coyotes had no interest in being friends, and neither did the few dogs that lived at some of the houses along his trails. Like the houses with the men and their boom sticks, he stayed far away from those. One day he kept noticing something behind him. Every time he turned to look, however, he saw nothing. But he knew he wasn’t crazy. He was certain it wasn’t coyotes, but it had to be something. So he took off running but then stopped and hid behind a tree. There it came, a scrawny little dog about the size of a cat. Mutt watched as the little guy looked all around to see where he had disappeared to. When Mutt stepped out from the tree, the little dog ran back as fast as he could. Mutt wanted to reassure him that he wouldn’t hurt him, but didn’t know how. He himself knew that trust was a hard thing to earn. So he made a decision. He walked slowly toward the old woman’s house. It was midday and he knew the food was probably there. It was. He could see the little dog out of the corner of his eyes as he ate and drank. But this time he only ate and drank about three quarters of the food and water and walked away. At a safe distance, he hid and watched. The little dog took one step at a time, stopping after each step as he neared the bowls. Finally he got there and quickly ate the rest of the food and drank the rest of the water. Mutt understood. He had been there himself. He wondered how the little fellow ended up here in the woods ─ so hungry ─ so alone. The little dog walked in his direction not knowing Mutt was still nearby. When he saw him, he froze. Mutt tried to reassure the little guy and simply turned to walk away, slowly. The little dog followed a few feet behind. This continued all day. That night Mutt went to his sleeping area and the little dog followed. Mutt lay down and the little dog lay down a few feet away. Mutt drifted off to sleep. He awoke later in the night when he felt something next to him. The little dog had snuggled right up against him. Mutt’s motherly instincts took over and he began to bathe the little dog, licking him all over. He was filthy, but more than that, he had several sores. Mutt knew by licking the wounds he could make them heal faster, but the little guy had them all over. The inside of his ears were so red and raw that the dog whimpered as Mutt licked them. When Mutt finished, the little fellow rolled over on his back and pushed his paws against Mutt’s snout. Mutt pretended to bite the little dog as they both played like puppies. Mutt loved it. He finally had a companion. He went to sleep again, this time with one leg underneath the dog’s head and the other draped over his body. When the sun came up the next morning, it found them in the same position. Mutt nudged his new friend and began to lick his face. But the little dog didn’t wake up, or even move. Mutt noticed he was cold and stiff. He had died in the night. Mutt was very sad. Why did things like this happen? Who could have hated this wonderful little dog so much as to abandon him to die? What was wrong with people? If not for the old woman who left the food out every day, Mutt would have believed that all humans were evil. He carefully took his little friend in his mouth and carried him to a hole left by a rotted stump and placed him inside then covered him with dirt and leaves. At noon he went to eat but it wasn’t the same. He kept looking back expecting to see his friend. He didn’t know if he should be happy for the short time they had together, or if he would have been better off never finding him.

Chapter Three

Mutt watched with puzzlement. Over the last year he had expanded his territory all the way through the woods to the other side where he found more homes and this strange place that he currently watched from a safe distance hidden in the foliage. It was a very large fenced area where humans and dogs played together. He didn’t know what to make of it. At first he thought it was some kind of neutral ground where all yelling, beating, and fighting was put aside, a place where his kind and humans met at random, but then he noticed that they arrived and left together in the same vehicles. All he knew was it looked like fun and he longed to join them. But of course he dared not. He was even still afraid of the old lady who left food out for him. A few times she had resumed her place in the chair under the large tree hoping he would come to her. She even tried coaxing him, but Mutt could never let down his guard. Reluctantly she would return to her house to allow Mutt to feed, and for the most part she respected his limitations. Time passed as time does. Mutt’s life became routine and more routine. He was glad to be away from his first home and the fighting, but he often longed for a companion, even a human companion, but knew he would never make the mistake of trying that again. He could barely remember the scent of his mother, but the feelings were still strong, and often he thought of his little friend, especially when passing his grave. Winter came and Mutt had gotten used to the cold. Thank goodness it did not snow very much where he lived, but when it did, it did bring about one bonus. Mutt learned he could catch rabbits in the snow, and along with what the old woman left for him, he ate well during those times. Snow was falling lightly one day as Mutt headed for his daily meal. It was not very cold and the snow melted as soon as it touched the ground. The day before was much colder and Mutt found the water dish to have a thin layer of ice on it when he arrived. As he neared the back of the property, his keen ears picked up sounds and he immediately knew something wasn’t right. Walking slowly through the trees, the sounds got louder. When he was able to peer through the bushes, he noticed several vehicles at the old lady’s house and a few people walking around. He glanced at the two bowls where they always were, but dared not walk out into plain sight with human around. So he waited. One of the vehicles was a white and red van with flashing red lights on top. It was quite annoying. Mutt hoped it would leave soon. His wish was granted. The flashing lights ceased as the van drove away from the house. The other cars and humans followed. Thank goodness. Mutt walked to the bowls but was in for a surprise. They were both empty. Mutt was angry. All of those people had apparently distracted the old woman and made her forget about him. He returned to the woods. Later that afternoon he returned but the bowls were still empty. At nighttime it was still the same. Mutt didn’t know what was going on but he noticed also that there were no lights on in the house as there always had been after sunset. He went to sleep assuming everything would be back to normal the next day. It wasn’t. After a few days he realized he had to start finding more food on his own. This was not easy. He could easily live off what the old woman left him each day, and everything he did for himself was simply extra. But now he had to live off that extra. There was no snow on the ground to slow down the rabbits. He tried chasing a few but had no luck. He returned to the stream and tried to catch fish, but only met with minor success. As he lay in his bed one night, his stomach growled from hunger, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. But he had finally come to the conclusion that the old woman wasn’t coming back, so that reality made him realize he had to do something he hated to do ─ take a chance. Early the next morning he set out for the main highway. Although he had expanded his territory through the forest, he still had not crossed this border. As the sun got higher in the sky, it even seemed impossible as cars and trucks sped along one behind the other. So Mutt decided to get there right at sun up. The traffic was much lighter and Mutt was able to run across unscathed. But now what? He didn’t know the area at all, so he just kept walking through the woods. Soon he began to smell awesome scents of food ─ all kinds of food. He sneaked along until he could see through the leaves and underbrush. There were one and two story buildings everywhere. Cars went this way and that and people walked along the sidewalks, some with dogs on leashes. It was like the recreation area; they all seemed to be happy and getting along. He had finally come to realize that the leash did not always mean the dog was being lead to a fighting arena. Heck, he even witnessed a human picking up after a dog left a poop on the ground. He couldn’t believe it. But how did this translate to him getting some food. The answer came soon enough. He watched as a guy in an apron exited through the back door of one of the buildings and dumped several large plastic bags into a short, metal trashcan. Mutt could smell the delicious odor coming through the doorway and hoped some of it was in those bags. And the great part was it was in the back of the building where no people walked at all. He wasted no time and rushed up and knocked the can over and sniffed. The bags were full of treats. He ripped them open and devoured anything edible he could find then rushed back to the woods. Now to find water. Mutt explored the forest until he found a stream and helped himself. He couldn’t believe his luck and wished he had come here years ago. These woods weren’t a lot different than the ones he just left, except there seemed to be less coyotes. It was paradise. He made himself a new sleeping area and bedded down for the night. The next morning he did more reconnaissance. He could stay pretty well hidden and still get to half of the buildings in the little town. It was too good to be true. As he approached the same building as before, he lay down and waited until the man in the apron brought out more bags. He started to make his way there when suddenly he froze. A young boy came running down the alleyway. Behind him were three larger boys throwing rocks at the smaller one. “Stop!” the little boy yelled and tried to hide behind the trash cans. But the three kept throwing. Mutt felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Seeing the larger boys attacking the smaller one brought back those horrible memories in the man’s fence where he was forced to face larger adversaries too. Before he could stop and think about his actions, or the possible repercussions, he sprang into action. He rushed to the smaller boy and stood sideways between him and the larger boys. All four of the boys stood still, apparently not knowing what to do. “Get him,” one of the bullies yelled. They began throwing rocks at Mutt. Several struck him but he didn’t leave his post. “Leave him alone!” the little one screamed. But they continued. Mutt was getting hit and some of them hurt, but he had been through much worse and he wasn’t about to leave this boy to face them by himself. Maybe the boy reminded him of his little dog friend. He wasn’t able to help him, but he sure could be of assistance here. The little boy and trio of bullies continued to yell in excitement until the back door opened and the man in the apron came back out. Mutt bolted for the safety of the woods. “What’s going on here?” the man asked. “Whose dog is that?” “We don’t know,” one of the bullies answered. “He was attacking this little boy so we were trying to run him off.” The man peered at the trio with doubting eyes. “Is this true?” he asked the little boy. Mutt watched from the safety of the trees. Would the little boy have the courage to tell the truth? “No, sir,” the boy finally answered. “They were throwing rocks at me and the dog was protecting me.” The man’s face turned red. “All right, you three come with me.” “We have to get home,” one of them said and they turned to run. “I know who you are,” the man shouted after them. “Your parents will know what happened.” Looking back at the little boy, he asked, “Are you going to be okay?” The little boy nodded, so the man went back inside. Before the boy left, he scanned the woods looking for Mutt. “Are you still there?” he called out. Mutt wanted to go to him, but he was too afraid, so he stayed out of sight. He went back on patrol checking out his new surroundings. He felt good about himself having helped out, but he wondered if he had opened Pandora’s Box. He had never let anyone see him on purpose. The next day he learned the consequences of his actions. He watched from the shadows as the man in the apron brought out the trash, but this time he brought out something else too. He placed a bowl on the ground by the trash cans. Mutt wondered if it could really be what he thought as he remembered back fondly to the old lady. He approached with reservations, but found a full bowl of dog food and a few of the tasty treats he had dug out of the plastic bags before. As he ate his fill, he began to wonder if humans weren’t so bad after all. As the months passed, and spring made the forest turn green again, he got to know his new area pretty well. The man left food every day so Mutt could concentrate on exploring. The houses just outside the town were much nicer than the ones where he had been. Most of them had large fenced back yards and most of those had dogs. Soon he had his favorites. Those were the ones where the humans and dogs came out almost every day and played together. Mutt could sit and watch for hours, safely hidden of course. One house had a black Labrador and a young man would throw a tennis ball for a full hour sometimes as the dog enjoyed chasing it and bringing it back. One house had little twin girls who ran around with two little red miniature dachshunds. One house had a big, beautiful, female Golden Retriever. Her humans were older so most times they let her out on her own. All of the dogs he saw wore collars with tags. He didn’t know the reason for that. She noticed Mutt in the woods one day and came to the back of the fence. She didn’t even bark, just whined. Mutt finally went over and introduced himself so to speak. Now, every day, at least on the days she was outside by herself, they chased each other up and down the fence. Mutt loved it. Soon there were two trails, one of each side, where they had worn out the grass. But as soon as her humans opened the door and called her, Mutt quickly vanished. Life seemed too good to be true.

Chapter Four

The wind was brisk and Mutt knew that winter was coming. Just like before, he had settled into a routine. But as he approached the building where the man in the apron left him food, he knew something was wrong. Several people, some of them also wearing aprons, were standing in front of the building yelling. But the man, Mutt’s friend, was nowhere in sight. He noticed smoke coming from the front of the building and out around a window on the alley side. Out of the blue the window exploded as did the back door. The people in front of the store screamed. Mutt jumped back as well. Flames darted out of the window and the doorway. Mutt started to retreat back into the woods when he heard something, a faint sound of someone coughing. He still didn’t see his friend, so once again he ran toward the building and straight into the open doorway. It was hard to see and hard to breathe. Mutt barked. Then he heard the coughing again and followed the sound. He found the man lying on his back and unconscious. Flames danced all around them. Mutt knew he had to do something, so he grabbed the man by the back of his collar and pulled, but the man was very heavy. Mutt leaned back and strained with all his might. The man slid a little. Mutt strained harder until the man began to slide across the floor. Mutt pulled him all the way outside and quickly resumed his hiding place in the trees. “He’s here!” another man yelled after walking to the back. The others rushed to the back as a firetruck pulled up to the front. The scene was chaotic, but Mutt stayed put until he made sure the man was going to be okay. “You’re lucky you were able to crawl out the back,” a fireman said. The man, wearing an oxygen mask, looked confused but nodded. Mutt turned to walk away, only now realizing he didn’t get his meal. Over the next few weeks, Mutt began to understand that his free meals were once again gone. The building was nothing but a shell. Even if the business reopened there, it would take a long time. Like before, he faced the reality of finding his own food. But at least this time it was different. After all, there were several places that put out garbage with edible food. So that became his new routine. He needed only to tip the trashcans over, pull out the plastic bag, and rummage through them. Simple really. One day, however, he noticed the cans had been strapped on. He figured it as just an oversight of the business owner. As he tried to chew through the straps, the back door swung open and a large man ran at him with a broom. “Get out of here, you mutt.” Mutt ran and disappeared into the woods. Once again someone knew his name. He began to wonder if that truly was his name or just a slur. The man that kept him in the basement called him that all the time, but he was not a good person. For the first time in his life, Mutt wanted a new name, but he didn’t really know any. For the next few weeks he stayed mostly in the safety of the forest, coming out only in the very late hours of night to check for trashcans that had not been secured. He found very few. One day, after staying up until dawn, he slept late but was aroused by the sound of leaves rustling. He saw two young men approaching wearing hats with ear flaps and carrying the boom sticks made of steel and wood. “There he is,” one shouted. Mutt jumped up and began to run. The loud boom ripped the stillness and his rear hump swung around hard and stung. He straightened himself and kept running. He could hear the men giving chase. Down to the stream he ran and into the cold water. He was having difficulty running very fast because of the pain in his hips. He spotted an embankment and scooted up under it. The men came running by and stopped right in front of his hiding place. “Where did he go?” one asked. “This way,” the other said as they ran off. Mutt breathed a sigh of relief. He reached back to lick his wounds and tasted the blood. He could feel little hard pieces inside his skin and tried to chew them out. He was partly successful. He could not understand these humans at all. How could they treat dogs so well one day and try to kill them the next. Were they angry because he pulled the man from the burning building? Maybe living in the woods was the problem. After all, besides his little friend from years ago and himself, he didn’t know any other dogs that did that. As he continued to lick his wounds, he made a decision. He would not let his guard down again nor would he ever accept another meal from a human. It wasn’t worth it. If life had taught him anything, it was no matter how friendly people seem they will ultimately try to hurt you. The next day he left out early to visit his old stomping grounds. He made it across the highway and visited the old woman’s house. It was dark and vacant. He visited the gravesite of his little friend and was surprised to see a leafy bush growing from the spot. The leaves were brown at the moment, but Mutt could only imagine how beautiful it would be come spring. He even visited the landfill. But there was nothing for him here. There was nothing for him on the other side of the highway either. He thought about the female Golden Retriever. He did miss her, but didn’t think it was safe to visit her anymore. People knew about him now, so he knew he would never be safe. He was left with one choice ─ find a new home. He walked back to the busy highway. But he didn’t cross to go toward his current home, and he didn’t turn left to go toward his old trails. He turned right and followed the highway, always keeping it in view but keeping out of view in the trees. He found plenty of water but no food. He came across several country homes and managed to scrounge up a few tidbits of edible garbage, but not enough. Sometimes he felt like simply giving up, but something kept pushing him. Maybe instincts; maybe stubbornness. Finally, after almost a week, he came to another town, this one slightly larger than the last. He explored the woods behind the building and found them to be mostly like the other areas, free of anything but wild animals. The town here, like the previous one, had plenty of garbage. Mutt had decided he would play it safe and always stay in the shadows no matter what. He would only scavenge for food very late at night after the people of the town had gone home and he would make no canine friends either. It didn’t make for a full life, but it was the safest way. He created a new sleeping area and tried to adjust to his new surroundings and his new routine. But it didn’t take long for these business owners to start taking measures when they would come in to work to find the mess Mutt had left them. Some of them started securing the lids on the cans and some began to place them inside at nights. Before long Mutt was forced to start taking more risks to find food. One day while checking out the local landfill, he noticed a man in a white van. More importantly, the man noticed Mutt. He had been careless searching for food. Now someone knew he was there. From that day forward, Mutt began to notice the white van a lot, even in trails in the woods. Maybe it was paranoia, but he truly believed the man was trying to find him. This kept him on his toes. One morning as Mutt was making his rounds, he smelled food. It was close by and smelled great. He followed the scent and found a fresh hamburger in a cage right on one of his trails. The door was opened and it looked like it would be easy to walk in and grab a free meal. But Mutt had learned the hard way about so called free meals. And he was all too familiar with cages. He spent the better part of the first year of his life in one that looked almost identical to this, so he walked away. That became his new routine. Every week or so new traps would be set and Mutt avoided them all. But soon hunger took control and the food inside the traps became too tempting. He stared at the burger inside but knew he shouldn’t enter. So he put his front paws on the cage and shook it. The door immediately slammed close and locked. Mutt knew it. When he found the next cage trap, he knew how it worked, but decided to try something. This time he put his paws on the top of the cage and pulled it over quickly. The door released again, but this time the cage fell on its side before the door could close. Since it relied on gravity, being on its side meant no weight on the door, so Mutt was able to crawl in and steal a free meal. As the weeks and months progressed, the man in the van got more creative, but nothing worked. He tried tying the cage to a tree, but Mutt simply ate through the rope and knocked it over as usual. He tried adding weights to the top, but Mutt knocked them off easily before tipping the cage. It became comical to Mutt as he imagined how frustrating the man must be getting at all the failures. And this became his new routine. It’s very possible that Mutt would have starved to death if not for the persistence and determination of the man in the white van. His very obsession with catching Mutt was the very thing that nourished him.

Chapter Five

As Mutt got more used to his new territory, he began to expand the perimeter of his daily strolls, just as he had done in the two previous areas. One afternoon he picked up on a faint scent, a familiar scent. He wasn’t sure what it was and was confused how anything in this neck of the woods could be known to him. He followed it with his nose high in the air, sniffing constantly to maintain the direction. He passed a small white house that didn’t look familiar and kept going. Finally he came to another house that set at the very end of a dirt driveway, which was well off the paved road. When he saw it, he couldn’t believe it. There was the rickety wooden fence where he had been forced to face much larger pit bulls. It was his old home where he spent a year in a tiny cage in the basement. It was the home of the awful man who left him for dead in the landfill. Mutt could feel the blood building in his face as the memories brought on feelings of anger and resentment. He just wanted to get as far away as possible. He turned to walk away, but stopped and looked back. The top blocks of the windowless basement were visible and Mutt wondered if other dogs had befallen his fate. He wanted to bark out to see if he got an answer, but it looked like the man was home, so he didn’t dare give himself away. Arriving back at his bed area, Mutt lay down but couldn’t go to sleep. He couldn’t get the place out of his mind. He knew he had to do something. He didn’t know if most humans would even care about what the man was doing, but he had discovered that there were some people who treated dogs well. If he could just get the attention of the right people, perhaps he could make a difference. He decided on a course of action knowing full well it went against his basic rule of staying hidden. But he didn’t care what happened to him; he would do whatever he could to stop the man with the basement. The next morning he set out on his plan. He arrived at the little white house, which was still almost a mile from the evil man’s house. Mutt hid beside the house and waited. An hour later an elderly couple walked out and toward their car. Mutt made sure they weren’t carrying boom sticks and rushed into action. He ran straight for them and made circles around them while barking. The woman screamed. Mutt ran up on their porch and knocked over flower pots and then went to the driveway and knocked over their trashcan. As the couple retreated back into their home, Mutt knew part one of his plan was activated and strolled up the street toward the bad man’s driveway and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. In the distance he saw what he was waiting for ─ a police car. He watched as it neared the elderly couple’s driveway, and then he walked out in the middle of the street and barked so the officer could see him. It worked. The lights on the police car began flashing. Then Mutt saw another vehicle he hadn’t counted on ─ the white van. He turned and ran toward the dirt driveway. Looking back he could see the police car and van gaining on him. He turned down the drive and continued at top speed. It had been a long time since Mutt had run so fast, and soon he was huffing and puffing, but he kept going. He glanced back over his shoulder but only saw the police car. The van was gone. He didn’t have time to analyze what that meant. He could see the house now and knew he was almost there. The police car was right on his tail. Just a little farther and he would be there. Suddenly the van shot out from a trail in the woods right in front of him and the man quickly jumped out. With the police car right behind him, Mutt ran around the van. But the man had a long stick with a loop in a rope at the end and threw it around Mutt’s neck as he passed. It stopped him dead in his tracks. From where they were, Mutt could not see the fence in the back of the bad man’s house, so he began to pull with all his strength. “Help me here,” the man called out to the policeman. “We’ve been after this fellow for a long time.” The policeman rushed over and grabbed the stick as well. Both men pulled with all their might but they couldn’t stop Mutt. His will and determination prevailed and he managed to pull them several feet until the edge of the fence was in view. As a last resort he started barking in the direction of the house. He wasn’t sure if there was a dog currently caged in the basement, but it was his only hope. It worked. A dog started barking back. The policeman and man looked at each other and back toward the house. “What is that?” the man from the van asked. “It looks like a fence in the back,” the policeman answered. “I will check it out as soon as we get this one under control.” To their surprise, Mutt stopped pulling. The man opened his van door and there was a small cage with the door already opened. He bent down to lift Mutt, but it wasn’t necessary. Mutt jumped in willingly. He had succeeded in what he wanted to do. Nothing else mattered. “What is it?” the man called out. The policeman was looking inside the wooden fence. “Looks like blood.” He took his radio and called base. “I need backup. I’m at the old Johnson place on County Road 168. It looks like we might have a dog fighting operation here.” Mutt let out a sigh of relief. He was tired and lay down and closed his eyes. The man tapped on the window and Mutt looked up to see him give him a thumb’s up. The man got into the driver’s seat and the van drove out of the long driveway. Mutt didn’t know where they were going, but he was very happy about the turn of events. It seems neither this man nor the police officer liked what the evil man had been doing. Ten minutes later they arrived at their destination. The man took a leash and slipped it over Mutt’s neck and led him out of the cage and into a building. “Hey, Ralph,” one of two young ladies said. “Who do we have here?” She reached down and rubbed Mutt behind the ears. “Well, I call him The Phantom because he has been so elusive,” Ralph said. The ladies laughed. “He’s been out there a while I think,” Ralph added. “Can you fix him up?” “Of course,” the other lady said. “Come with me, sweetie.” Mutt didn’t know what they were about to do to him, but their demeanors were so soothing he took a chance and followed. Soon he found himself having the first bath he had ever had. It was actually comforting. Next he got several shots, which were not comforting. Later that day another young woman came to pick him up. “So, you’re Phantom?” she asked as she led him out to a small pickup. Was that his name? He thought about it and decided he liked that much more than “Mutt.” The woman opened the passenger-side door of the little truck and motioned for Phantom to hop in. He didn’t understand. There was no cage. He looked at the woman for clarification. “It’s okay,” she said, “hop in.” Phantom took his cue and jumped up on the seat. The woman went around to the driver’s side and got in. “Ready?” Phantom didn’t know if he was ready or not. He didn’t know where they were going or what was going to happen to him. But apparently her question didn’t need an answer as she started the truck and drove away. Twenty minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the local animal shelter. Phantom followed the young woman inside. The place was full of dogs… and cats. Phantom had not been around cats much. For that matter he hadn’t been around other dogs much. And he certainly had never been this close to so many humans. “Who do we have here?” an older gentleman asked. “This is Phantom, everyone,” the woman answered. “He needs a home.” A home? Phantom was shocked. He didn’t even know he was allowed one. They all gave him lots of attention, which was a tad uncomfortable for Phantom, then led him to the back where many others dogs of all shapes, color, and ages occupied gated enclosures. Phantom might have spent the first year of his life in a confine much smaller, but he had gotten used to the wide open spaces, so this seemed like a prison to him. When the chain-link gate slammed shut and the woman disappeared, it seemed even more so. What was going to happen? What if they showed up with a leash and led him to a fighting arena? No, surely these people weren’t like that, but Phantom didn’t know for sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. “Look,” the woman said one day holding a newspaper. “You’re a hero. It says, ‘Local man arrested for running a dog fighting operation.’ It also says a bait dog in the basement was rescued.” Phantom smiled inside. His routine developed fast here. The next day was the same as every day for the next month. They fed him every morning; made sure he had plenty of water, and bathed him once a week. And every day the same young woman came by with the leash. “Come on,” she begged. “Don’t you want to go outside and run and play?” Run and play? There was a time when he thought of nothing else. But he just couldn’t bring himself to trust her, so he did what he did all day long ─ lay in the back of the pen with his head on his paws and ignored everyone. And every day, throughout the day, people would come in and look at all the dogs, usually picking one out and taking them away. But to where? Sure the dogs always seemed happy to go, but did they really know where they were going? It was just too risky. A few times people would try to get his attention, but quickly lose interest when he was unresponsive. It worried the young woman something terrible. “Phantom,” she said one day as she sat right outside his chain-link gate, “you have to snap out of it. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but these people want to give you a loving home. Don’t you want that? But you have to show some sign of interest or no one is going to adopt you. Please greet people, or at least stand up and wag your tail once in a while. I really want you to find a home and be happy.” The weeks passed and Phantom never let her take him outside, and never acknowledged anyone who took a moment to stop by his cage. A lifetime of trusting only yourself and living by your own wits and resources was a hard thing to suddenly let die. One morning he was awakened by the sounds of heightened voices. His ears perked up to listen. It was the same woman who brought him here and tried every day to get him to take a walk or show any sign of wanting to be adopted. She was talking with the older gentleman, whom Phantom had learned was the boss. “No, you can’t do it,” she said, her voice cracking. “Please give him more time.” “I wish I could,” the man responded. “You know that. But we only have limited space here. We have to think of the dogs we can’t get in here because of him.” The man turned to walk away. The young woman came into the back area with tears streaming down her face and stopped at Phantom’s gate again. “Please, Phantom. Please, boy. I know you have it in you. Please try. Please try for me.” She broke down again and rushed away. The next day the people began wandering through looking for dogs. Same as any other day. Amongst them were a woman and her daughter. “How old are you?” Phantom’s friend, the young woman at the shelter, asked the little girl. “I’m nine.” She looked nine. She was small with red hair, which came down into two pony tails, and tons of freckles. “We’re looking for a pit bull,” the mom said. “Really?” the woman from the shelter seemed shocked. The mom nodded. “Both me and my husband had one as a kid and know how loyal and protective they can be. See, my husband is a salesman and is on the road a lot, so it’s just me and Bethany here at home most of the time. That’s why we want a pit bull, a grown one.” Phantom looked up and noticed the little girl had walked away from her mom and now stood right outside his gate. “Hey there,” she said. “What’s your name?” The girl’s mom and the woman from the shelter walked over. “Oh, he’s handsome. Is he available? What’s his name?” the mom asked. “He’s Phantom. The dogcatcher named him that because he was so hard to catch. And we kept it because he has the tear in one eye like the opera mask. You know ─ Phantom of the Opera.” Then the woman fought back tears. “But I’m afraid he’s not available. I wish he was, but we don’t think he’s ready.” “Is he aggressive?” the mom asked. “Oh no, not at all. He’s never shown any signs of aggression. He’s just withdrawn. I think he’s had a tough life. He just won’t come out of his shell. In fact, he’s scheduled to be put down tomorrow.” “Oh my,” the mom said. “Come along, Bethany.” “So, tell me about your home,” the woman said. The mom smiled. “We have a huge fenced backyard. Our dog will be part of the family and have the run of the house and be very much loved.” “That sounds great,” the woman said as they walked away. But Bethany wasn’t giving up. Without being noticed, she made her way back to Phantom’s cage. “I know what it’s like to be afraid,” she said softly. “I get picked on all the time for being so small and having red hair. I like you, Phantom. I wish you could be my friend.” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she walked away. Bethany and her mom looked around for several more minutes before deciding they didn’t see the one for them. “You can always come back, or try another shelter,” the woman said. “Thanks,” the mom replied. “Come on, Bethany, let’s go.” They were about to walk out the door when they heard a bark, which made them all turn around. The mom and her daughter simply stood with their mouths wide open. The woman from the shelter broke down crying. There was Phantom, the pit bull formerly known as Mutt, sitting up at the gate and waving his left paw in the air.

The end

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