The Runaway Stray

The Runaway Stray
By Robert Watson

The dog shivered. She was chained to a pole in her owner’s backyard on a cold, snowy day in December. The yard was filled with a bunch of garbage: old tires, the hood of a car, a rusty shovel, and a pile of aluminum cans next to the back door to just name a few things. A poorly made fence surrounded the property except for the right side where there was a plank missing.

Needless to say, the dog was in poor condition as well. A caring owner would have made a nice bed for her close to a warm fireplace inside the structure of the house. Her owner didn’t do that. She was stuck outside with nothing protecting her from the winter’s icy blast. Her owner was rarely ever home, and when he was, the golden retriever was either ignored completely or severely abused.

The years of neglect were clearly evident on the dog. She appeared to be old; although in reality she was only two or three years of age. You could see most of her bones protruding out from underneath a thin layer of skin, which served as the frail structure of her body. One eyelid was half closed; the eye underneath was bloodshot. When she walked, there was a slight limp in her right leg. Her collar was critically embedded into her neck.

And she was pregnant.

Several months had passed since she had managed to get loose and roam around the neighborhood. While on her adventure, she had met another golden retriever - a male. After cautiously approaching one another, they soon had became friends. One thing led to another, and then she became pregnant.

A few hours after she had met this other dog, her owner drove on past in his old Chevy pickup. He immediately recognized her and got out of the truck to recapture his dog. Of course, she did not give in to him without attempting to put up a fight and run away. She was weak; he was strong. Naturally, he always won the battles.

The poor dog was punished. Her cruel owner bought a stronger chain to prevent her from escaping. Her collar was tightened. She was not fed for three days. Why the man even kept the dog in the first place was a complete mystery.

Now, as the dog stood up to shake a coating of freshly fallen snow from her fur, she began to consider if it was worth running away again. She was starving and couldn’t get herself to stop shaking from the cold; she longed for warmth and something hot to eat. It seemed almost impossible to break free from her prison. If she wanted to escape, it appeared she would have to somehow tear apart the restraint around her neck.

The dog gently used her good hind leg to try to get at her collar. She yowled in pain and a few drops of blood smeared on her paw. The collar was implanted in her skin deeper than she had thought. She lay back down on the cold, hard ground with her head on her paws. Maybe she would try again later, after she tried to get some rest.

* * * * *

A few hours passed, and the dog awoke to the sound of a loud engine rumbling along the road and coming in her direction. Her owner had returned. From where he was coming from she did not know; it wasn’t uncommon for him to be gone for days at a time. The truck screeched to a halt in the driveway and a door was opened and quickly slammed shut. He was in a foul mood. This wasn’t abnormal, either.

He seemed more infuriated than the dog could ever remember. She could hear objects being knocked over inside the house, and the sounds were earsplitting to her. Papers were being thrown everywhere and a string of obscenities could be heard proceeding after every crash.

Suddenly, he appeared at the back door. The dog cowered at the mere sight of him and curled up near the pole. He slowly opened the door and began to walk down the old porch. In his hand was a crowbar, and fury flashed in his eyes.

“You filthy mongrel,” he said menacingly as he made his way slowly toward the dog, taking his time. It was apparent that he was intoxicated. “You filthy mongrel. You were never good for nothin’. I don’t know why I kept you after she left. She didn’t want you, and I didn’t want you. Every day I look out here at you and all I can think about is her. How she betrayed me. How she went and married that filthy man.”

By now he was an arms length away from the dog. He stopped speaking and abruptly raised the crowbar. The dog knew that now was her chance to do something, before it was too late. She had to protect herself and she had to protect her puppies. All in one motion, the dog leaped up and ripped at the man’s stomach while the crowbar came crashing down.

The crowbar missed the dog’s head by inches. Instead, it hit her in the back. She disregarded the pain and continued attacking the man. It was a mad frenzy to the finish. She was terrified, but she was determined to win the final battle. Her drunken owner started screaming and dropped the crowbar into the deep snow.

“You filthy son-of-a-bitch dog!” He repeated this several times and continued screaming in pain. Noticing that he had lost the crowbar, he swung his arms wildly at the dog and kicked her in the ribs. The dog yelped in agony and fell.

“I’ll be back out here tomorrow, dog. If you ain’t dead by then, you sure as hell will be by the time I’m through with you!” He stumbled off in the direction of the house, and finally managed his way inside. The crowbar was left abandoned in the snow, and the dog lay motionless next to it.

* * * * *

The golden retriever was in an extreme amount of pain. After regaining consciousness, she opened her eyes with great effort. It was dark, but the moon was shining bright and lighting up the sky. She hurt in about a million places all throughout her body. She had a broken rib, but luckily she had not been paralyzed from the blow of the crowbar. Her neck was bleeding badly, and the snow around her was covered in blood.

Her collar had somehow started to work its way free. It took her a moment to realize this, but then the curiosity got the best of her. With her left leg, her good leg, she tried once more to see if she could remove the collar. It hurt badly, but she was confident that she could endure a little more pain after what she had already suffered that day.

Within minutes, the whole collar was loose around the dog’s neck. The problem that the dog now faced was how she was going to get the collar off her head. This proved to be a more difficult and painful task. After an hour’s work, the collar finally lay at her feet - dirty and soaked with blood.

The dog was tired; there was no doubt about that. All she wanted to do at this point was to lie back down on the cold snow and never get back up. However, she was ravenous and knew she had to leave before the man came out in the morning sober and ready to put up a fight. She was now liberated, and this gave her the motivation to get out of there. Slowly but steadily, she made her way to the part of the fence that had the missing board and entered a new life: the life of a stray.

After leaving the place that she used to call home, she searched for a new location in which to live. That night, she only made it about half a mile before she had to stop and rest. The back alley to a place called “Welsh’s Family Restaurant” served just fine as a temporary residence. The dumpster located there was overflowing with all kinds of delicious things to eat - things that she had never been allowed to have while being held prisoner by that rotten man.

The dog’s life had changed dramatically during those past few hours. She ate so much from the dumpster that she threw up and ate again. Never before had she been completely full. After exploring for a few minutes, she came across a bit of a surprise: an empty cardboard box. Now the dog really had a place to call home, a shelter from the sleet and snow.

Life for the dog was good for several days. Gradually, some of the dog’s wounds began to heal. She was able to investigate new and exciting places every day and even started to gain weight - not a lot, but enough. However, she had a feeling that her puppies would soon be born. She was not far enough away from that man to feel completely safe.

The dog knew what she had to do. She had to find another home, one a lot farther away from her enemy. She decided to continue her journey. For three days she walked, only stopping when absolutely necessary. Some days it snowed for hours. Every day it was freezing; the wind lashing relentlessly at her body. She still kept walking.

On the third day, she came to a town about 75 miles east of where she had came. As she approached the outskirts of the quiet municipality, she knew this was where she wanted to end her voyage. Kids raced about throwing snowballs at each other, built snowmen, and created snow forts. This was a peaceful community where everybody knew everybody, where neighbors went next door for a cup of hot chocolate and for a friendly conversation.

Christmas decorations and an array of lights covered each and every foundation. It was like heaven, like a dream come true. Some of the children looked at the dog, but most kept a safe distance away from her. This was perfectly fine, as she didn’t want anything to do with humans.

Eventually, the golden retriever found a nice place to rest. Somebody had left an empty box in their backyard, which had inevitably been filled with Christmas decorations just a few hours before. She could faintly hear the sounds of a television set and laughter coming from the living room. Almost instantly the dog fell asleep, exhausted from such a long and enduring trip.

* * * * *

The Lehman household was restless that night. The two twins, Brian and Ryan, could not fall asleep. They were both too excited about Santa coming. Would they get everything they had asked for? Would mommy and daddy like their presents? Would Santa remember to eat the cookies and milk? Was Santa even going to come? These questions and a whole lot more raced through their heads all night long.

Finally, the sun’s first rays appeared over the top of the mountains and they couldn’t keep still for any longer. The two of them got out of bed and chased each other down the stairs into the living room.

“I beat you!” Brian yelled gleefully, reaching the room first. He stopped in his tracks with his mouth wide open. Ryan caught up to him and saw what his brother was gaping at.

“He came! You didn’t believe me, but he did. I told you so.” Ryan jumped up and down, glad that he was finally right about something and his brother wasn’t. They both raced over to the Christmas tree as their parents finally made their way sleepily into the room.

“Merry Christmas guys! Who gets to open their presents first this year?”

Just as they were about to answer their father’s question with a shout of “Me!”, they heard the faint sounds of whimpering from outside. Silence filled the room.

The father got up from his recliner and peered out the window. His face lit up as he took in the scene before his eyes. By now, the whole family was gazing out into the yard. The twins gasped in astonishment.

Outside in the empty cardboard box that Mr. Lehman had placed near the garbage can was a present for the entire family. A golden retriever with a red bow tied around her neck stared back at them solemnly while her two puppies were busy nursing on their mother’s milk. Her tail thumped up and down, and she gave a quick bark to greet the onlookers.

In the distance, church bells began to chime the new hour, and snowflakes gently fell towards the earth.