The day that Big Red cleared the chain link fence that separated the Littles from the Biggies was the same day I found out Sarah was pregnant. She had been standing on the sidewalk outside our area, gesturing with her arms in the air and arguing with a park attendant. When water came gushing out of her, we all rushed the fence to see what was happening. The air was immediately infused with an odor that was both exciting and foreign to most of us but unmistakable to those who had once sluiced out their own offspring. I was at the forefront of the mob, getting uncomfortably jostled by everyone, including some individuals I was barely acquainted with. I was the smallest one there, something which occurred more often than not in this sort of venue, and being crowded like that made me short tempered and snappy. Sarah was mine. Of course, she wasn’t just mine. There were several of us who had arrived that day under Sarah’s care but I had a proprietary interest in her since I was the one who slept in her bed almost every night.
I say almost every night because sometimes Flat Top and this guy would overnight with us. I did not like Flat Top. She had a good 120 pounds on me and she didn’t say much, just stared at me continuously as if wondering what I might taste like. Exactly what she wanted from me wasn’t clear and I didn’t care all that much about finding out. At night the white part of her eyes would glow blazing from where she lay on the floor over to me curled in my nap place on the big chair by the heater vent. I did not like Flat Top’s person either but he was a biped like Sarah so my options were limited. Once he called me “Dropkick” and Flat Top snickered and for weeks afterward all I could think of was the guy’s big black boots, the huge bulbous toes of them, the jarring sound they made when he clomped through the house. Sarah had shrieked when he said it so he and Flat Top weren’t around too much after that. But not too much still meant the occasional visit. Hence, I remained on edge.
Sarah had been making money with a side hustle for a few months before the day the water came pouring out of her. Early mornings, we went around picking up certain individuals before heading to the park. We were going there anyway, Sarah said, so why not? The usuals were Taylor Swift, Punky, and Calder. They got belted in regular, whereas I had a special car seat made just for me. Taylor Swift was always too vocal, it being her way of traveling. I sympathized, car rides could be overwhelming, but Taylor Swift carried it to where she got on everyone’s nerves. We picked her up last to minimize the level of decibels. Punky and Calder were amiable fellows–big boys but mellow. They were always happy to see me but they never bumped me or rolled me in the sawdust. I overheard Sarah tell someone that they were even good with cats which was surprising. I am not now nor have I ever been “good” with cats. I may be small but I have some pride.
Sometimes we would get others new to us for a ride or two. The regulars and I had our vibe so nobody got too friendly beyond the standard sniffing. Others came in smelling like cigarettes, like kitty litter boxes, like perfume, like toothpaste, like pork chops, like new tennis balls. Once we got to the park, Punky and Calder went off with the Biggies where Big Red knew better than to mess with those two. Me and Taylor Swift, quieter now but still vibrating from the ride over, stayed with the Littles.
I do not think any of us knew that Sarah was with child. I might have figured it out if my intention had been to pay attention to her, which it was not. All I knew was that winter the space for me on her warm lap had grown smaller and smaller with each passing week. Also, she had an unusual odor on her breath, something that smelled rich and heavy. But I had a lot going on. Between the guy in my spot on the bed and Flat Top staring and a squirrel in the backyard and this cat who cleaned herself on the sunny front walk every afternoon right where I could see her from the living room window, I was otherwise occupied. A human baby had a subtle, slow way of making itself known to the world.
Big Red wasn’t supposed to be at the park that day or any of the days. He’d been triple banned due to unseemly and toothy behavior in the past. That’s why Sarah was outside the fenced area, yelling at the park attendant. Big Red’s person, a skinny guy with a ball cap, was outside as well, yelling back. When the water came out of Sarah, those two guys jumped back like they were afraid their feet had been doused with poison. The sound of the words that had been flying through the air stopped like they’d been pinched off by clippers. Sarah swayed a little on her feet.
An old person limped one of the dirty plastic chairs from inside the park to outside and Sarah sat on it. A lot of persons were outside the fenced area now, chattering and bustling around. I kept getting pushed back from the front until I couldn’t see much of what was happening with Sarah. I was scared; we all were scared, even individuals I had never met before were whining. Fear passed through us like bad wind.
I heard a siren wail in the distance and in unison all of the Littles’ ears rose up to attention. Taylor Swift tilted her head back and let loose one singular note and most everyone joined her. The Biggies stopped chasing each other with their thundering gallops; stopped peeing on trees and lawn chairs and fence posts; stopped rolling under a tree where bird droppings accumulated; stopped wrestling in the water trough. Several Biggies joined in as the siren song got louder and louder then stopped.
There was more commotion outside the fence and much shuffling. Car doors opened and shut. I heard Sarah saying, “No, no, no…” but I couldn’t get eyes on her. I felt a formless dread ripple through me. The big change was at hand. I had been through it all before–the baby, the apartment that didn’t allow pets, the death in the family, the new partner allergic to animal hair. “Rehoming” would follow, if not today then soon. Was I prepared? Not really but I had been more careful this time. I had not licked Sarah’s fingers or face. Had not padded after her from room to room, had not made the soulful eye contact even when the scent of bacon was in the air. I had stoically allowed the petting and the cuddling, but I had never initiated it. I had not let myself get too attached to her. Not the way I had in the before times with certain persons.
I heard tires screech up outside the fence, a motor idling, more car doors slamming, more shouting, and then I caught the scent of Flat Top, heard her guy’s voice over the hubbub. It was time to make a run for it. I’d been on my own outside before and I’d been to shelters. Outside was preferable. I didn’t think I could survive a shelter again. I wasn’t as cute as I was when I was younger.
I backed away and headed for a spot in the far corner of the Little’s area, a location where a Yorkie had been working the dirt a few days prior trying to break out under the fence. On the other side were trees and more trees. I would disappear before anyone realized I was missing.
I started digging. When I stopped after a few minutes and looked behind me, I saw Big Red had separated himself from the rest of the Biggies in their area and was watching me. It was the stillest I’d ever seen him, his big head low, bloodshot eyes fixed on only me. Big globs of drool were spooling down from his lips and he lapped at them without raising his head. We’d exchanged looks like this in the past, Big Red and I, through the fence. I had seen the size of his brown teeth close up, smelled his cavernous breath. He wasn’t very smart. He seemed to think I was prey, like maybe a rabbit. The last time Big Red had come to the park, he’d torn a German Shepherd’s ear right off. Hence the banishment. Now the chain link between us looked more like gaping holes than any kind of barrier.
I resumed my excavating with renewed energy. I was scared but there was still an undeniable pleasure in digging, something primal and almost hypnotic. Generations of smells going back ten, twenty years filled my nose as I dug deeper. The soil was moist and loamy and I was making good headway. I don’t know what it was that made me stop and look back again. Big Red had moved away from the fence, to the far side of the Biggie area, still staring at me. Then suddenly he was coming, running in gallumping lunges, his feet barely touching the ground as he barreled forward, his ears pressed back against his head, his long hair flying out behind him.
Big Red lifted up from his massive haunches and cleared the chain link with six inches to spare. His landing was not as graceful. His front legs buckled and he skidded nose-first into the sawdust in a mushroom cloud of brown dust. I hoped it had killed him but he got to his feet, shaking his head and blowing wood chips from his nose. I thought about running, losing myself again in the crowd but it was too far and too late. Besides it would make whatever plans for carnage that Big Red had in mind much worse. The other Littles wouldn’t stand a chance. This was on me. I had foolishly made myself an easy target, moved away from the pack, culled myself from the herd like a suicide.
I screamed then. I couldn’t help it. It was ear-piercing, a terrible sound, and the fact that it was coming from me scared me almost senseless. Everyone turned to look: Littles, Biggies, Flat Top. The crowd outside parted and I saw Sarah stagger to the fence. I saw the horror on her face and, in that moment, I realized that I had made a tragic mistake. It had never been about me getting too attached to her. How had I failed to notice how attached she was to me, how much she loved me? What was about to happen was going to ruin her life, tinge every memory of me and her child’s birth with grief. I thought my heart might break.
My scream reordered Big Red’s agenda. He turned toward me. There was no hurrying to him now. He worked his jaw to see if it was still functional. It was. He commenced coming. I stiffened my legs into the dirt for reinforcement. One street time, I bluffed a bully who thought the back alley of a restaurant belonged to him only. I had lifted my lip, showed my snaggled half-inch canines, and the dog decided to let it go. Big Red was not the type to agree to disagree but perhaps some damage could be inflicted before he was finished.
Then before Big Red could reach me, a huge black blur of fur and muscle hit him, sending him tumbling sideways. Black and red bodies somersaulted and twisted away, some dog yelping in pain. Two persons ran in and tried to pull the dogs apart. It wasn’t going to be easy. Flat Top had a hold of Big Red’s throat, pinning him to the ground. Finally Flat Top let him go, after her guy shook her a number of times.
“Get those dogs outta there!” the park attendant hollered. Big Red’s person grabbed his collar and led him, limping and bloody, out of the park, past all the gaping Littles.
Flat Top’s person came over to where I was standing, hoisted me up, and tucked me under his arm like I was nothing, something he’d never done before. It was a surprising and not entirely unpleasant feeling. His arm was firm underneath me, his big fingers spread across my chest. Outside the fence, Sarah reached for me, perched me high on her big belly, and pulled me close. Dirt was clotted in my nails and it scattered across her shirt but she didn’t mind.
The ambulance that had been idling there slunk away. Then everyone, Flat Top, Punky, Calder, and Taylor Swift, got put into the back seat of Sarah’s car, one after another. Sarah sat in the front with me in her lap and Flat Top’s person drove. It was crowded with Flat Top there but strangely quiet. Not even Taylor Swift made a peep. After we dropped off the extra dogs at their places, it was just me and Flat Top waiting in a parking lot for a long, long time. We avoided looking at each other. I was a little embarrassed about that scream, truth be told, and I thought maybe Flat Top was trying to act like it had never happened.
When Sarah came back out, she put me on her lap and kissed the top of my head. “Pretty soon,” she said, “but not today.”
Everyone slept over that night. I got up on the big easy chair by the heater vent and Flat Top settled down on her place on the floor and watched me with those half open eyes. I thought about Sarah in her bedroom and the guy’s strong arms wrapped around her. I thought about how I’d spent my entire life learning to adjust to change, finally learning how to trust. I thought about how hard and cold the floor must be. The big chair was big enough for two dogs. I scooted over, making room, so that Flat Top might join me and she did, curling her warm body around mine. It seemed like that was all she had ever wanted.