Atticus
Things were fuzzy when I first came into the world. I remember a lot of scrambling and sometimes fighting to get at my mama’s teat, but there was always enough room once we settled into our respective places and I never went hungry. It seems in those early days all I did was eat, sleep, poop, and pee. It was an easy life, but not very exciting.
I’m a curious sort of pup by nature, unlike my brothers and sisters. They’re happy just wrestling around with each other or chewing on toys. I like to watch things.
Intensely observe the actions of others. Skillfully smell the air for the scents that help me to understand my world. I like to taste things, and the new grownup puppy food we started eating a few weeks ago is delicious.
I’m what you call a Bernese Mountain Dog. I’m not quite sure what I look like, but if I had to judge by my brothers and sisters, I’d say I’m black, brown, white, and really fluffy. Our owners are what you call breeders. My mama and daddy make baby puppies, and then people buy us.
Lately, people have been coming by to look at us. Prior to such an event, me and my siblings are brought out one by one to an outdoor bathtub where we are scrubbed with warm water and sweet-smelling soap. We’re then toweled off before being placed into a makeshift outdoor pen made of interlocking panels. There we dry in the sun and chew on blades of grass or each other’s tails. When the people come to look, we preen and act silly and look our adorable best.
If we’re one of the lucky pups, people will ask to hold us. Our owners will pull us out of our little pen, then we get to play with people and get belly rubs. They exclaim over how cute we are and even if we’re not chosen, there’s a general air of excitement buzzing through the rest of us while we watch from our pen.
This is one such day. We’re all bathed and smelling like flowers. It’s chilly out, so our man owner pulled one of the cars outside of his big, two-car garage, and set up the pen beside the remaining car. He then opened the big door for the people to come look.
Because I’m always aware of my surroundings, it doesn’t take me long to notice that one of the panels on the cage isn’t fully locked, and there’s a tiny gap at the bottom. While the other pups do somersaults and put their front paws on top of the cage to get the people’s attention, I nudge my nose through the tiny opening.
Next my head.
Wiggle a bit to get my shoulders through.
Then it seems I’m sort of squirted through to the other side.
I look over my shoulder. All my sibs are still trying to get the people’s attention and acting very foolish in my opinion.
I’m suddenly intrigued by a smoky sort of smell that’s coming from somewhere outside the garage. I scramble underneath the car, then belly crawl quite stealthily to the other side. Without a moment’s hesitation, I dash out and into what I call the big world. The minute the soft pads of my paws hit the crispy brown grass, a rush of jubilation over takes me.
I submit for a moment to the unmitigated exhilaration of freedom, running around in a tight circle for a few laps before flopping to my belly. The grass pricks at my skin because my fur isn’t very thick there yet, and I hang out for a bit while watching the people ooh and ahh over my siblings. Not one of them turn to look at me, but I don’t feel like I’m missing out on any important action.
The smoky smell hits my nose again, and my mouth waters. My tongue comes out and licks all around my snout as I lift my head to get a better sniff. It definitely makes me want to sneeze a bit, but there is a strong scent of some type of cooked meat underneath. I think I’ll die if I don’t get a taste of it.
It’s from somewhere—my gaze moves to the back of the property—just over there.
A thick copse of pine trees stands strong and tall. I’ve never been back there and it looks dark and a bit scary, but I feel an adventure calling me.
Plus… that smell.
It’s so delicious, and I can’t resist checking it out.
