A Short Story

Redwood-Red and Charcoal-Black

When David announced he was going to get a puppy, excitement spread through the family. David, my 22 year-old brother, adopted a Border Collie from a dog breeder in Palm Springs. He introduced her to us the very next day. He walked through our front door carrying a new puppy in his arms. She was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen; a white line streaked from her forehead to the tip of her muzzle, she had floppy ears, crystal clear hazel eyes, and thick, wavy Redwood-red fur. We became more acquainted with the puppy as I played with her in the backyard until the day grew old. “What’s her name?" I asked. “Her name’s Bailey,” David answered. I mouthed her name to myself, Bailey, Bailey, Bailey.

As the weeks passed, my dad and I became more and more attached to Bailey. Once in a while, as an exciting treat, she slept over at our house for the weekend. She slept on my bed and we played all day. I dreaded the nagging thought in the back of my mind that told me David would have to come and pick her up soon. As the months passed by, Bailey was quickly becoming a new member of the family. My dad and I often explored the pet store finding new toys and treats for her, even though she was David’s dog. But we didn’t look at it that way; she was our dog. Never before had I established such a deep connection with a dog. It was almost as if we knew what the other was thinking.

In the meantime, we were becoming more concerned about Bailey. David loved Bailey but she was his first dog and he was making some mistakes in her care. He didn’t put a name tag on her collar and let her walk without a leash. He had to leave her home all day while he went to work. Eventually, we began to think about making an offer to adopt her from him for Bailey’s own good (and ours too.) We cared so much for Bailey and couldn’t bear to see anything bad happen to her.

Then we got a phone call at 9:00 at night. It was David. His voice was shaky as he said quietly, “Bailey’s been taken by a coyote.” Utter shock spread through me as I stood there in horror. Immediately, the connection that was so firmly established between Bailey and I was severed, shattered, combusted into a million crumbled pieces. I had never imagined that the words, Bailey, taken, and coyote would be said in the same sentence. I tried to bear the truth that Bailey was gone.

After days of mourning, we moved on with our lives. Eventually, we made up our minds to adopt our own Border Collie puppy from the same parents of which Bailey was born.

When the day came that our new puppy, decidedly named Betzi, was due to be adopted, we though it was ethically necessary for David to be the one to deliver her to us. David finally pulled up in front of our house and we frantically went out to greet him. Curled up in his arms he held our puppy, Betzi. She resembled her sister, Bailey, in almost every aspect except one; she wore Charcoal-black fur. As he handed her off to me I looked into Betzi’s brown eyes. A somehow familiar sensation sped through my body. Although I did not realize it immediately, I knew deep down what the sensation really meant. A connection was established.

Epilogue

Now David has adopted, Max, a black lab from the Agoura Animal Shelter. He is as happy as can be with his new dog and loves him to death. I hope David learned a lesson and will be more responsible with his second dog. I know he will.