This choice: The family invites Buddy inside to enjoy dinner • Go Back...Chapter #5The family invites Buddy inside to enjoy dinner by: Shalion   The balding man attached a rope to Buddy’s neck—so different from the harness—and brought the dog inside. The door opened and Buddy was met with a shock, the door opened into a little room rather than the great space he had been expecting from the sight of the exterior. Buddy had never seen stairs inside of a human home before either, he smelled furniture polish overlaying old wood. A picture of the man holding his leash, albeit with a full coat of golden fur and smaller versions of the two girls behind him sat on a small end table beside the steps. Still befuddled by the strange little room, Buddy hardly noticed when the man unhooked him. Buddy looked up.
The man had a soft, round face, small nose, even for a human, and thick square glasses. That golden hair, only a few shades lighter than his own, marched around the sides of his head, leaving his crown barren save for a sad attempt at a comb over.
“Peter! Won’t you come get this big ol’ bag of dog food?” called the voice of the man’s apparent mate. She came to the front door while the man turned around and left, waddling a bit. The big female was actually a little more than plump, in fact, she was bordering on rotund. Taller and more than half as wide again as her mate, the female dwarfed him. She had a long face, though the effect was mostly spoiled by the size of her cheeks which appeared full like a squirrel’s and the thickness of her neck which almost suggested that she had to swallow several softballs or a small melon. She carried nothing from the car but her minuscule purse leaving her husband and children to collect the various supplies given by “The Seeing Eye.” Buddy’s tail wagged when the tall girl all in black grabbed his old dog bed from the back, it was one of the few items left from his previous life as he thought of it.
Once the rest of the family was coming, the plump woman pushed open a door and all of Buddy’s misconceptions of smallness vanished in an instant. There was a spacious living room with rich leather furniture arranged around a massive flat picture box that humans loved so much. Real rich leather, the tantalizing aroma was almost like sugar sprinkled on the air currents, but Buddy was able to resist temptation; he was a disciplined working dog… or at least he was. He still didn’t know what role he would play in this household, certainly all of the humans seemed perfectly able to see and guide themselves. It seemed that he was destined to become nothing but a spoiled pet without a job—and therefore without a life—though he couldn’t expect anything more. Who would want to rely on an aged guide dog who had led his charge right into the jaws of death?
Buddy sagged, but the small, rosy cheeked girl child ran up to him and threw her arms around him once again, kissing him on his forehead; he managed a half hearted lick in return. Then the human girl did a most peculiar thing. Pulling back her toes off the ground, she slide forward and seemed to glide across the wooden surface of the floor.
“What did I say about skating in the house, Lauren? Take those wheels out right now!” commanded the plump woman from the other side of the kitchen counter. Already there were succulent smells wafting from that side of the room.
The tall, pale girl walked right past where Buddy was sitting, dropping his cherished dog bed on the floor without stopping and virtually ran upstairs without a word. Buddy heard a door slam shortly followed by the same chaotic din he had heard issuing from beneath her hair.
The husband, apparently called “Peter” came in, staggering under a mighty bag of kibble. He threw it down beside the stairs and stretched his back, groaning a little. Buddy looked up and cocked his head quizzically. “Oh don’t mind her, she’s always like that.” He said and cupped Buddy under the chin with his palm. Buddy might have nuzzled back, but he couldn’t find the heart to do so. The man took a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and read it carefully. He leaned to the right and peered out across the living room to the kitchen to make sure no one was watching and then he smiled to himself. “A real guide dog, well, let’s see what you can do.” He muttered to himself.
“Down.” He said. Buddy laid down with almost no conscious input.
“Up.” Buddy stood up.
Peter checked his paper again. “Ready.” Buddy walked over to his right side and turned forward. Now was when he was supposed to be fitted with his harness to begin his very important, and now miserably failed job. The man looked down with a silly grin on his face, but Buddy felt only disappointment since it was obvious that they weren’t going anywhere.
“Forward.”
They stepped forward together into the living room where the smaller girl-child, Lauren that was it, was placing the plastic tabs over the holes where the wheels had been in the soles of her little pink shoes. Buddy didn’t like humoring the man for his own amusement, but the commands were too well ingrained in him to even think about disobeying them. “Hault.” Said the man in the glasses before the kitchen counter.
The plump woman already had her sleeves rolled up and was wrist deep in flour. So near the floor, Buddy couldn’t see the dishes, but he smelled fresh dough, tomato paste, beef, cheese, herbs and vegetables. “See what a good boy Buddy is?” said the husband
Buddy was surprised when the large female slammed her chunky fists into the counter, rolling something and then striking again. “I still think we should have gotten one from a breeder. My cousin knows this wonderful woman who has the most beautiful French Bulldogs.”
The be speckled man grimaced visibly. “Honey, you know I don’t care for little dogs. I need a dog we can play with.”
The plump mate to the man next to him looked over the counter down at Buddy where he had already sat down. “Then you should have adopted a puppy. Look at all that white on his muzzle.” She gestured dismissively down at Buddy, “And didn’t they say he’s going blind? He cost almost a grand and now there will be more vet bills.”
“He’s just losing some of the sight in his left eye, Sweetheart. The Seeing Eye said it’s unlikely he’ll go completely blind.” This was news to Buddy. Blind? In one eye? He hadn’t noticed anything different with his vision, but then those tests with the flashing lights at the kennels came back to him; they way the technicians had muttered and mentioned Dr. Mathias. Is that why he hadn’t seen the car coming?
“Hmph…” said the wide female and punched her dough even more vigorously. Peter wisely decided to make a hasty departure. Peter put the big bag of dog food away in the pantry and stowed a couple of his old toys and a couple new ones away in a basket in the living room, Buddy following all the time. He picked up Buddy’s bed and walked up stairs. It was a longer climb that Buddy was used to, Dr. Mathias had always taken the elevator and his hip hurt a little by the time he reached to top.
Upstairs, there was a long hallway flanked by many doors. Peter walked all the way to the end and though Buddy instinctually wanted to sniff at the bottom gap of each door, he followed dutifully at his side, the way that a true guide dog should, just in case. Buddy wondered half-hopefully if Peter had any medication to fetch, or possibly a cane. He opened to door to a darkly lit room sporting a wide double bed with a black comforter. The man put Buddy’s bed at the base of it on the floor and then took a seat in at the nearby desk and computer. Buddy stood by for a long while, waiting for Peter to move, but when he didn’t and seemed to slide into concentration the way Dr. Mathias had over his papers, Buddy pushed his way between his legs to lie down under the desk… or at least he tried. Peter’s leg wouldn’t budge to admit him. Buddy looked morosely up at Peter. “Go on, Buddy. Sniff around, make yourself at home.”
To Buddy, home was being at the side of his charge, home was being useful and dependable. He laid down under Peter’s seat. A few moments later, however, Peter rose and Buddy was forced to get out of the way of the chair legs. “Go on Buddy,” said Peter, pushing him out the door with open palms. “Don’t be a pest.” The door shut and Buddy was left outside. ‘A pest…?’ he thought and he ears lowered.
Buddy sniffed at the bottom of some of the doors, instinct prevailing in his idleness. ‘Is this what pets do?’ he wondered, ‘wander around aimlessly sniffing until they find something interesting enough to hold their minds for half a minute?’ He had never considered himself to be a “pet,” he was an assistant dog, the best of the best. More than half of his comrades were thrown out during selection at the Seeing Eye when he was but four months old. He was supposed to be better than this… And he was supposed to keep his owner from dying also. Below the door behind which came the music like a busy construction yard came the scent of make-up, incense and cigarettes. It was the first room he had smelled those filthy tar sticks in and he wondered if she were doing something she oughtn’t. Buddy scratched the door almost experimentally. He immediately heard fumbling on the other side and the closing of a window. “I’m trying to listen to The Wake! God!” The music suddenly became much louder and of course, Buddy had no words to say to her so he left.
Somehow going down the stairs hurt worse that going up and Buddy took his time with it. There was a time when he would have rushed down stairs like these almost at the same speed as falling (and more often than not he did), but it seemed that age was taking more than just his sight. Downstairs, Buddy had something warm, soft and buttery jammed into his mouth before he even knew what was happening. His first instinct was to gag, but the warm buttery lump tasted so good, it would have been a crime, so he swallowed. “See, Mom? He likes it.” Said Lauren, wide smile almost cracking her face in half.
“Well let him have as much as he wants, we have to finish off this batch of dough, it’s going to go bad.” Said the plump female from the kitchen.
The Little girl grabbed a platter of fresh, straight-from-the-oven, pastries, what were they called? Ah croissants. His owner had liked to put a strip of bacon and a little butter inside as a breakfast snack. Lauren settled in front of wide, world filling screen before them. Right now, there was a yellow rectangle with eyes and brown pants dancing with a dopey pink star in trucks. Strange things humans find entertaining. Lauren offered him another croissant and though all of them were slightly burned, it was still like a rich buttery heaven exploding on his tongue. Hardly chewing, Buddy found within himself an appetite of a much younger dog, not that the pastries required much chewing, they practically dissolved in the mouth. Giggling, Lauren passed him one after another and soon the dozen or so that had rested on the platter had utterly vanished. She hugged him again around the shoulders while Buddy licked his chops. “Mama, Buddy’s so skinny, his ribs are poking.”
The plump female laughed, “Not for long if I keep burning these croissants. Here give him these too.” Buddy wagged his tail.
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