Dewy and Ham

It was a low mournful howl that woke me up. Not all that loud, just mournful in a hungry lonesome way that lost hungry dogs have when they’re lost and hungry. I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately anyway, what with Swearing Man and the boys both having colds. But it did wake me right up out of a dream in which I was trying to find a train station.

I found him over at the Adler’s place rooting though the garbage cans, just as rail thin and mangy as any dog you’ve ever seen. The Adler’s live in Arizona during the winter months and they had yet to come back to Tacoma and open things up. So needless to say this pup wasn’t finding much to eat.

He came right up to me when he saw me. Most stray dogs are a little skittish at first, but not this one. I don’t know if it was the hunger or the cold or if he was just to damn tired to put up any resistance, but the moment he saw me he came right up with his tail between his legs and wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me back up the road to the mobile home, the whole way with me shooing him in the loudest voice I could use at two in the morning. He wasn’t too impressed with my scare tactics either, parking himself on the stoop right outside the sliding door after I went inside.

I thought perhaps if I left him alone for a while he’d leave to go find some food elsewhere. I thought if I climbed back in bed I might drift off to sleep and deal with this whole problem in the morning. Clearly at two in the morning I don’t do my best thinking.

I had forgotten about the cats.

I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard the first hiss. Zane had been suspicious when I left the first time but now was doubly so as it appears that I brought a dog home. She was not amused. At first, in that half-asleep, half-awake kind of way, I thought the dog had made it inside somehow and that there was a battle going on in the kitchen. But as I came around the corner I could see that Zane was standing on the table looking out the sliding glass doors. The dog just sat there looking pathetic.

Then I had an idea. And not to toot my own horn or anything but this was a pretty good idea for a I-haven’t-slept-and-it’s-two-in-the-morning if I do say so myself. I gathered up some food and water from the fridge, put the cats in the bathroom and headed back outside.

Dewy and Ham had never gotten rid of the little doghouse that they had bought for Pepper. Which was strange because I don’t think I ever saw him use it or anything. In fact the only times I can remember him not being right at the feet of Dewy, was when he was eating, but they had kept it just the same.

I found an old pan to put the water in, put the food inside the doghouse and left him there hoping that he would find the little house comfortable enough to spend the night and in turn let me get some sleep. I never heard another peep out of him.

In the morning when I went out to get the paper, Ham was just pulling up in her car and unloading a large bag of dog food. Dewy was toweling off a small thin rat of a dog who had just taken what might possible have been it’s first bath ever and the sun was just coming over the stand of cedars at the bottom of the hill where the road turns.

I said good morning, but I don’t think they heard me. I could hear Dewy in that high pitch voice saying “what a good boy you are” over and over and Ham laughing in that cigarette-rasped voice she has. I grabbed the paper off the stoop and went back inside to have my cup of coffee and a little quiet time before Sweetie and the boys woke up.

Besides, I didn’t want the dog to recognize me and have to explain to the girls how he got over there in the first place. There’ll plenty of time to tell that story in the future, after he gets fattened up, gets his shots and everyone’s had a chance to get to know one another a little bit better.