Jackson Run

Jackson is my best friend. He’s always been my best friend. I don’t remember much before Jackson.

When the Folks got me from the loud place, Jackson was here waiting for me.

He didn’t like me in his place at first, which is totally understandable. It was his. It smelled like him. Ergo, it was his. It was “him”, essentially.

But he got used to me, and we had so much fun! I’m smaller, so he could run faster, but I could zip and dive between his legs, nipping at his belly. He HATED that! But it was okay, because we were friends.

The Folks had Little Folks too, and they loved running around with us, playing with us, throwing things for us, occasionally yelling at us. But that was fine. Times were good.

The Little Folks became Big Folks and their Big Folks became Old Folks. But it was still just me and Jackson.

Then Jackson didn’t feel like running one day.

I nudged him. “Dude! Let’s run! Come on!” He growled and he snapped at me.

Jackson had NEVER done that to me.

Oh, okay, I guess he did. I forget easily. But never growled and snapped like that.

I slunk to my corner and curled up for the day.

The Folks noticed and took Jackson to the Clean Place. They’d taken me there a few times, and I didn’t like it. It smelled like other dogs, too, but not…not like the house smelled like us, you know? It smelled like more dogs than I’d ever met, but it somehow didn’t belong to any of them. The place wasn’t “claimed”. It was more a “pile” of smells…a lot of them scared. The place didn’t become them. If it “became” anything, it was the sick chemical smell that clung to the walls the way wrapping clings to our toys before they’re cut out and given to us. But this wrapping wouldn’t come off. It stuck to our fur after we’d been poked or jabbed or fell asleep and woke up hurting there.

I hate the Clean Place.

And now Jackson came back, smelling like it. He was tired. Wanted to run even less. I tried yelling at him a bit, nipping him. Tough love, “Come on, jerk, let’s run!”

The Folks seemed weird. They kept rubbing Jackson’s head and crying.

He just needs to run, guys. Make him run, he’ll be fine.

Some days he could run again, then he’d sleep for the rest of the day. I ran between his legs again, but wouldn’t nip his belly. He hated that.

He hadn’t run in days, and the Folks picked him up one day. They didn’t even leash him, just picked him up. The Old Folks and the Big, once Little, Folks picked him up together and put him in the car. Ugh, not the clean place again.

They came home without him.

I looked around for days, but could only find the old smells. That damned Clean Place was somewhere. I’d been there plenty of times, but the smell never lasted long once we got home. Now, there was a stink somewhere and I couldn’t figure it out. A little vase thing they brought back seemed to be the location. It stunk, like the chemicals, like fire, but something slightly familiar.

Where’d Jackson go? He’s never going to get better if he doesn’t run. The Folks were so quiet and sad. The Little Big Folks who used to be little went back to where they live and weren’t around.

I ran every day, but it wasn’t the same.

It went on like that. The Clean Place smell faded. Jackson’s smell faded. I hope he comes back one day and the house becomes him again. He’s gonna be mad that my smell is all over his things.

********

The Old Folks weren’t even in the house and I smelled it…the LOUD PLACE! And a new stink…scared, but happy. I was there waiting for them.

They brought a new guy. Cooper. He’s bigger than me.

I didn’t like him in my place at first, which is totally understandable. It was my place. It smelled like me. Ergo, it was mine. The house was “me”, essentially.

But I got used to him, and we had so much fun! I’m smaller, so he could run faster, but I could zip and dive between his legs, nipping at his belly. He HATED that! But it was okay, because we were friends.

Cooper is my best friend. He’s always been my best friend. He’s the only friend I’ve ever had. I don’t remember much before Cooper.