Ellie's Story Read online

  “How’s Emily?” Jakob asked them faintly.

  “Who?”

  “The little girl,” the big policeman explained. “She’s fine, Jakob. You found her. You saved her. Everything’s okay.”

  More people arrived, and they lifted Jakob onto a strange, flat bed and started to carry him up the canyon. I ran right beside him. Ahead of us, I heard the familiar sound of a helicopter motor stirring to life.

  The policeman who’d been with us held on to my collar as the people put Jakob on the helicopter. The blades started spinning faster and faster, whipping dust and leaves through the air, and the helicopter rose slowly into the sky.

  I wrenched myself free from the policeman’s hand and ran after the helicopter, barking. It rose up and up and I circled beneath it, dancing on my hind legs, barking in frustration. I was a chopper dog! Why hadn’t they let me get on? I needed to go with Jakob!

  But the helicopter didn’t come back. After a while Amy came to get me. She talked to the big policeman for a while and then clipped a leash on my collar and took me for a truck ride. The cage I was riding in was filled with Cammie’s scent.

  Amy took me back to the kennel at the police station, calling Cammie to her as I went in. Gypsy was nowhere to be seen.

  Amy put the leash on Cammie and scratched behind my ears before she shut the door, leaving me in the kennel alone.

  “Someone will check on you, and we’ll figure out where you’re going to live, Ellie. You be a good dog. You are a good dog,” Amy said.

  10

  I curled up on my bed in the kennel, my head whirling with fear and confusion. I did not feel like a good dog.

  I’d done my Work. But now Jakob was gone and I was sleeping all night long at the kennel, instead of in my own bed next to Jakob’s big one. It felt like I was being punished. But for what?

  For biting the man with the gun? Biting people was not part of Finding them; I knew that. And now Jakob was hurt. The memory of his pain and the smell of his blood made me whimper as I lay there.

  I remembered how I’d felt when I was a puppy and Jakob had left me in the apartment. I’d been worried, each time, but Jakob had always come back. The thought made me feel better. Jakob would come back. All I had to do was wait.

  The next few days were even more confusing. I lived in the kennel. A few times a day one of the police officers would come and let me out into the yard, but they never had Work for me to do and they would put me back into the kennel quickly and hurry away.

  Amy talked to me and played with me a little, but she and Cammie were gone a lot of the time. Sometimes Gypsy wanted to play I’ve Got the Ball and You Don’t, but I did not feel like it. Mostly I sat at the gate, waiting.

  Slowly Jakob’s smell faded from the yard. Even when I concentrated, I could not locate him. If I was supposed to Find him, I would not be able to. The thought made me bark anxiously until Amy came to let me out and pet me and talk to me.

  I couldn’t understand her words, but I felt a little better. That day I played with Gypsy and got the ball away from her twice.

  A few days later, Amy brought her lunch out to a table in the yard. Cammie and I were in the kennel together, but all he wanted to do was nap. He wasn’t interested in playing, even when I showed him a rubber bone one of the police officers had given me.

  I didn’t understand what Cammie’s job was. Why would anyone want to have a nap dog?

  Cammie was interested in Amy’s lunch, however. She let us both out, and he walked over to the table and sat down heavily at her feet. He sighed, as if he had many serious problems that could only be cured with a bite of her ham sandwich.

  A woman came out and joined Amy, sitting down at the other side of the table.

  “Hi, Maya,” said Amy.

  Maya had dark hair and dark eyes and was tall for a woman. Her arms looked strong. Her pants smelled faintly of cats. She sat down and opened a little box, then took a fork out of it and began chomping on something spicy. “Hi, Amy,” she said. “Hello, Ellie.”

  Maya didn’t say hello to Cammie, I noticed. I liked that. I liked her. I liked Amy, too, but Amy belonged to Cammie. She wasn’t my human, the way Jakob had been.

  When would Jakob come back? He’d been gone such a long time. Maya, though, was right here. And she smelled good. So did her food. I moved closer to her. She petted me, smoothing down the fur on my head. I caught a whiff of soap and tangy tomatoes on her skin.

  “Did you put in your paperwork?” Amy asked.

  “Fingers crossed,” Maya replied.

  I lay down and gnawed at my rubber bone. Maybe Maya would see how much fun I was having and decide to coax my attention back by offering me a bite of her lunch.

  “Poor Ellie. She’s got to be so confused,” Amy said.

  I looked up. Lunch?

  “You sure you really want to do this?” Amy asked.

  Maya sighed, and I could feel some tension coming off her. “I know it’s hard work. But what isn’t, you know? I’m just getting to that point; it’s the same old thing every day. I’d like to try something new, do something different for a few years. Hey, you want a taco? My mom made them. They’re really good.”

  “No thanks.”

  I sat up. Taco? I wanted a taco!

  Maya wrapped up the rest of her lunch, as if I weren’t even there. “You people in K-9 are all in such good shape. Losing weight is so hard for me … you think I can hack it?”

  “What? No, you’re fine! Didn’t you pass the physical?”

  “Sure,” Maya said.

  “Well, there you go.” Amy stuffed her trash into a little paper sack. “I mean, if you want to run with me, I usually go to the track after work. But I’m sure you’ll be great.”

  I felt Maya calm down, just a little, as if Amy’s words had been what she needed to hear. “I sure hope so,” she said. “I’d hate to let Ellie down.”

  I decided that, no matter how often they said my name, this conversation wasn’t going to involve anything to eat. I sprawled out in the sunshine with a sigh, wondering how much longer it would be before Jakob came back and we could go to Work again.

  Maya came and ate lunch in the yard a few times after that. Then one day she came into the yard without any food. She was happy and excited; the feelings were floating off her, and she was smiling. She clipped on my leash and took me for a car ride.

  “We’re going to work together, Ellie. Isn’t that great? You won’t have to sleep in the kennel anymore. I bought a bed for you; you can sleep in my room.”

  There were some words in there that I knew: “Ellie,” “kennel,” “bed.” And, of course, “Work.” But none of what she had said made any real sense. We weren’t going to Work; I could tell just from Maya’s voice and the lack of tension in her body. So why was she talking about it?

  I didn’t mind that much, though. I was happy to go somewhere, anyway, after so many days in the same place. Plus, Maya let me ride in the backseat of her car. I stuck my nose out the window, blissfully drinking in the smells of everything that was not the kennel.

  Maya parked in the driveway of a small house. As soon as she took me in the door, I knew it was hers. Her smell was painted everywhere. Alongside it was the odor of cats. That was a disappointment.

  I carefully inspected every corner of the house. There was an orange cat sitting on a chair at the table. She watched me warily with cold eyes. When I came closer, tail wagging, she opened her mouth wide to show me her teeth and gave an almost silent hiss.

  “Stella, be nice. That’s Stella. Stella, this is Ellie; she lives here now.”

  Stella yawned and turned her head to lick the fur on her back, as if I weren’t even worthy of being noticed. I would have taught her a lesson or two, but a flash of gray-and-white movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention.

  “Tinker? That’s Tinkerbell; she’s shy.”

  Another cat? I followed Maya into the bedroom. There a third cat, a heavy brown-and-black male, saun
tered out from under the bed and sniffed at me. I could smell his fish breath.

  “And that’s Emmet,” Maya told me.

  Stella, Tinkerbell, and Emmet. Why on earth would one woman want three cats?

  Tinkerbell stayed under the bed for the rest of that evening, thinking I couldn’t smell her there. When Maya poured some food for me into a bowl, Emmet came into the kitchen and stuck his nose into my dinner. Then he lifted his head and walked away, as if he didn’t even care that I was eating and he wasn’t. I made sure to lick the bowl clean. No cats were getting any of my food. Stella stayed on the chair and watched me without blinking.

  After dinner Maya let me out into her tiny yard. “Good girl, Ellie!” she said after I’d done what I was supposed to do. Some humans seem to get excited when they notice dogs peeing in the yard; I guessed that Maya was one of them.

  Maya made her own dinner, which smelled pretty good. Stella seemed to think so, too, because she jumped right up on the table and waltzed around, like a bad cat! I couldn’t believe her lack of manners. Maya didn’t even scold her. I suppose Maya thought cats weren’t even worth training. After spending the afternoon with these three, I pretty much agreed with her.

  After dinner we went for a walk on the leash. There were a lot of people out in their yards, adults and children of all ages. All the different smells made me restless. I hadn’t done any Work in a long time, and I was getting impatient. I wanted to run, to Find, to save people. Without meaning to, I began to pull against the leash that Maya held.

  Maya seemed to understand. “Want to run a little, girl?” she asked, and she began to trot alongside me.

  I sped up, sticking right by Maya’s side, as Jakob had taught me. Before long she was breathing hard and I could smell sweat breaking out from her pores. Inside the houses we passed, dogs starting barking, jealous that we were running and they were not.

  But all of a sudden Maya stopped. “Whew!” she panted. “Okay, we’re going to need to spend more time on the treadmill, that’s for sure.”

  I was disappointed. No more running? But I turned obediently when Maya tugged on the leash, and we headed back home.

  It seemed that Maya’s house really was home now.

  I began to understand it, that night. I stretched out on the living room rug while Maya took a bath and changed into different, softer clothing. Then she called me into her bedroom. “Okay, lie down here, Ellie. Good girl,” she said, patting a dog bed.

  I knew about dog beds. I curled up in it at once, and Maya praised me before she lay down in the big bed above me. But I was confused.

  Would I be staying here for a while? I remembered how I had once lived in the basement with Mother and my littermates and then I had lived with Jakob. Had things changed again? Did I live here now?

  But what about Jakob? Wasn’t he going to come back this time? I had waited patiently. He’d always come back before. But this time—was it going to be different?

  And what about my Work? How could I do Work without Jakob?

  The next morning I found out.

  Maya took me in her car, and we went back to the park where I had gone so often with Jakob. Wally was there, and he greeted me like an old friend. Belinda had come, too. She smiled and scratched my ears in just the right way. Then she waved and walked off into the woods while Wally stayed to talk to Maya.

  I knew a lot of the words he used when he talked with her: “Come” and “Find” and “Show me.” But he wasn’t saying them to me, so it didn’t seem as though I were supposed to do anything. I lay down and put my head on my paws, sighing with impatience. Wasn’t I going to get to do any Work?

  Then Maya said something exciting. “Ellie, Find!”

  I jumped up. Yes! Work! At last!

  I quickly sniffed the grass and picked up a trail; it was Belinda’s. She smelled like coffee, and a tangy perfume, and sugar from the doughnut she’d been eating. I followed the trail, running quickly just for the pleasure of it. Wally and Maya followed.

  Belinda was sitting inside a car. If she’d been hoping to fool me that way, no luck! I circled back to Maya.

  “See now; see how she looks?” Wally said. “She found Belinda. You can tell by her expression.”

  I waited impatiently for Maya to tell me to Show, but she and Wally were too busy talking. I could have barked with impatience, but I knew better. It was hard to wait, though. It had been so long since I’d Found anyone. I wanted to finish the job!

  “I’m not sure,” Maya said. “She doesn’t look much different than the other times she came back.”

  “Look at her eyes, the way her mouth is tightened,” Wally told Maya. “Her tongue’s not out. See? She’s on alert; she has something to show us.”

  At the word “show” I started to lunge forward, but then I pulled myself back. It hadn’t really been a command. But why not? Why weren’t we doing our jobs?

  “So now I tell her to show?” Maya asked.

  I whined. Quit teasing me! Were we Working or not?

  “Show!” Maya finally called.

  Yes! At last! I tore off across the park, and Maya hurried along behind me. Belinda came out of the car laughing when we Found her. “Such a good dog, Ellie,” she told me.

  “Now you play with Ellie,” Wally said to Maya. “It’s important; it’s her reward for such hard work.”

  Maya took something out of her pocket—the rubber bone from the kennel. I leaped to grab it with my teeth. She laughed as she tugged on the bone and I pulled back, swinging her in a circle on the grass.

  It was different from the times Jakob had played with me. He’d done it because he had to; it was a part of Work. Maya was smiling even when I pulled the bone out of her hand and she almost fell to the grass. “You’re so strong, Ellie!” she gasped, and laughed some more. “Good girl, Ellie!” She petted me and scratched my neck and we played a little more tug-of-war with the bone before we got back to Work.

  It was different, doing Work with Maya. But it was still Work, and that was the most important thing.

  11

  It wasn’t just Work that was different with Maya. Almost everything about her was different from my old life with Jakob.

  There were all the cats, for one thing. She also knew many more people than Jakob did. Most nights she went to a larger home with lots of people and a wonderful-smelling woman named Mama. Mama was always cooking; that’s why she smelled so good. There were little children running around playing with each other every time Maya and I went for a visit.

  The older children called, “Ellie, Ellie! Ellie’s here!” and almost forgot to say hello to Maya. The boys threw balls for me, which I patiently brought back. The girls put hats on me and laughed so hard they had to hold on to each other to stay on their feet. And the very small ones crawled on me and over me and poked fingers in my eyes.

  I didn’t mind too much, though. I remembered how my brothers and sisters and I used to play with Bernie. These little ones were like puppies; I understood that. They didn’t know how to play correctly yet, and you just had to be patient while they learned.

  When I got tired of having my fur pulled, I’d just shake myself gently to push them off, and go and sit under the table in the kitchen. Mama would be in the room, stirring things in bowls or tasting things in pots, and there was almost always something tasty that needed to be licked up off the floor. I loved the kitchen.

  At her own house, Maya had a neighbor named Al who liked to come over and talk to her. There was a word he said so often that I began to recognize it. The word was “help.”

  “Do you need help carrying those boxes, Maya?” he’d ask. “Do you need help fixing your door?”

  “No, no,” Maya would say.

  “Did you get a new dog?” Al asked one day, not long after I’d come to live with Maya. He bent down and scratched me behind the ears in a way that made me love him instantly. Not everybody scratches right, just hard enough and in the perfect place. Al did. I leaned against him happi
ly so he wouldn’t stop. He smelled of papers and ink and coffee and nervousness.

  “Yes,” Maya said, talking a little more quickly than she usually did. “She’s the department search-and-rescue dog.” Maya’s skin was growing warm, and her palms had started to sweat. This always happened when Al came over and said “help.” But I could tell she wasn’t frightened of him. It was odd. Still, as long as Al kept scratching I didn’t care too much.

  “Do you need help training your new dog?” Al asked.

  I knew they were talking about me. I wagged my tail.

  “No, no,” Maya said. “Ellie has already been trained. We need to learn to work together as a team.”

  I wagged extra when I heard the words “Ellie” and “work.”

  Al straightened up and stopped scratching. “Maya, you…,” he started to say.

  “I should probably go,” Maya mumbled.

  “Your hair is very pretty today,” Al blurted.

  The two of them stared at each other, both so anxious it felt as if something bad was going to happen any minute. I looked around to see if something was going to attack us. But I couldn’t see anything more threatening than Emmet, who was staring at us through a window, probably jealous that I got to be Outside and he didn’t.

  “Thank you, Al,” Maya said. “Would you like…?”

  “I’ll let you go,” Al said.

  “Oh.”

  “Unless…”

  “Unless…?”

  “You … do you need help with anything?”

  “No, no,” Maya said.

  Al nodded and walked away. I could feel Maya’s sadness, and I pushed myself closer to her, so that she could scratch my ears, too.

  Maya and I went to Work almost every day. Sometimes we Found Wally and sometimes Belinda. On some days a few of the older children from Mama’s house came, too. That was fun; they were always so happy to be Found, and called me a good dog over and over, and wanted to play tug-on-a-stick until Maya, laughing, told them I had to do more Work.