Ellie's Story Read Free

pet me and give me something tasty from his hand. “Come” meant praise and petting and a treat, so pretty soon I always showed up for it. But my favorite words from him were “Good dog!” “Good dog!” always meant he would pet me, rubbing my fur until I wriggled from my toes to my tail with happiness. His hands smelled of oil and his truck and of papers and other people.
    Jakob never seemed to get angry about anything, even when my little bladder signaled that it was full and let go all in one rush. When I did manage to get outside before anything happened, he gave me such praise that I decided I’d try to do it as much as possible, since it seemed to please him so much.
    I wanted to make Jakob happy. I just wasn’t sure how.
    He was patient with me, always. He petted me and called me Good Dog and seemed to like having me nearby. But I could tell that he wasn’t happy. When he wasn’t taking me out for walks, he mostly sat on the couch. Sometimes he’d turn on the talking box; sometimes he just sat or lay down flat and looked at the ceiling. If I went over and nuzzled at his hand, he’d rub my ears a little, but never for long.
    I would sigh and lie down beside him. I thought he’d probably feel better if he let me up on the couch with him, and so would I—but I’d learned that wasn’t going to happen.
    On our first night together, Jakob had watched the noisy box for a while and then he’d yawned and wandered into the bedroom. I followed him. After he’d undressed, he crawled under the covers on the bed. It looked so comfortable that I immediately went up after him. It was all I could do to leap so high, so I figured I was due for some praising and maybe a treat.
    Instead, he got out of bed and put me back into the furry circle on the floor. “This is your bed,” he told me. “Yours, Ellie.”
    He climbed back into the big bed. I could see he didn’t want me to join him up there, but I couldn’t understand why. He had so much room! My bed was comfortable, but it was lonely. I was used to sleeping with Mother and my brothers and sisters. This was not at all the same. I whimpered, to let Jakob know something was wrong.
    â€œYou’ll get used to it, Ellie,” I heard him say from the big bed. “We all have to get used to being alone.”
    After some time I got used to it, but that didn’t mean I liked it. I still tried to sneak under Jakob’s covers every now and then. He never shouted or pushed me, but he never let me stay. In a few minutes I’d be back in my own bed. After a while I decided it was less trouble just to stay there.
    For a few days, Jakob was home with me all the time. Then one morning, he got dressed in different clothes. Everything he wore was a dark color, and he pulled on a heavy belt with things hanging from it. “Got to go to work, Ellie girl,” he told me. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon.”
    Then he left.
    This did not seem right. I hadn’t liked it when Jakob had left me alone in the truck, but he had come back. I remembered that. He’d come back this time, too. I settled in to wait.
    Waiting was very hard.
    I lay in my bed for a while, but then I nosed my way under Jakob’s blankets. They smelled like him, and that was comforting. But after a while I got restless and went to the living room so I could look out of the glass door that led to the balcony. Maybe I’d see Jakob from there.
    I didn’t.
    I sniffed the couch cushions. They smelled like Jakob. I chewed a little on one of the rubber bones he’d gotten me. It was odd to chew something with so little taste, but my teeth wanted to gnaw something and Jakob said, “Good dog!” when I bit this. So I chewed it and waited some more.
    Jakob still hadn’t come back.
    Maybe this time he’d really forgotten me. Or maybe something had happened to him! Maybe he was hurt and