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Frisky heard Manuel come along and push his feeding cart up the path and into the kennel area. He talked to the other dogs like friends. Then he pushed his cart back and disappeared.
Frisky sat until his belly growled. What if his chains get caught in a rock or vines and he can't get loose? He could holler for help but no one was there to hear him. Frisky found himself beginning his journey back into the backyard of his owner as his anxiety rose.
The terrain was riddled with more obstacles than he remembered passing over on his eager way into the greenery. Returning over the same path had turned into a bigger hardship. It took twice as long to get back but get back he did.
Valerie wasn't there. Nobody was there. Treading with ease on all fours across the green grass that Manuel kept so manicured was its own reward for succeeding in getting back. Frisky headed for the house.
Around the pool and up to the back french doors of the master bedroom he went. Anxiety levels dropped at the sight of the leash still hooked up out here from the last time Valerie gave him a bath.
The sliding glass door off the dinning room opened up and Valerie stepped out of the house. Damp hair hung from her head with strands falling over the lens of her glasses. She had thrown on a green T-shirt and a matching zip down green hood sweater. Black yoga pants fit like spray paint and she was walking on black tennis shoes.
"I knew you'd come back. Pets know where their food is," she said. She leaned over and picked up the yard leash from the ground and clipped it to Frisky's collar. "Now, tell me why you ran off like a bad dog."
Frisky now leashed back up sat down unsure of how to respond.
"Use your words, dog."
He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Why had he ran off? Because his instincts told him to. Go hide. Don't get taken away. Frisky's mouth opened again. Then again. "I don't want to leave."
Valerie stood over him slowly folding her arms. "I see."
Frisky looked up. She was looking down on him, her brown eyes behind the lenses of the thick, clear plastic frame, and her mouth down turned. "You think Ashley is coming to pick you up and take you with her?"
"Isn't she?"
Her arms fell to her sides, her shoulders drooped, her body losing its posture as if her bones had collapsed in on themselves. Her mouth burst out with a smile and a laugh as if being tickled on her belly by a giant feather. "This is my sister we're talking about. Who knows?" she laughed. "She called while you were lost and said she was on her way but I'll believe it when I see it."
Still chuckling Valerie stepped over to the deck table and chairs taking a seat. "The only way she could make it today is if I give her gas money to get back home." She shook her head.
Frisky said nothing more. So it was true and really happening.
"But that's if she shows," Valerie warned. "For now though, you have been a bad dog for running off."
"But... But that's because I want to stay here. With you," Frisky said dragging the long chain leash hanging from his collar. He was hoping to soften the edges of her anger with his absolute devotion.
"You can't, Frisky."
The abrupt finality of her tone made him mentally step back.
"I'm your dog/slave."
"Yea. You are," Valerie agreed with absolute certainty.
"You own me."
She leveled her eyes with his. "I'll own you for the rest of your life. Try me any time in the future and you'll find out."
Was that a threat?
"But I thought..." he choked back his fear and rising anxiety.
"You're a dog, Frisky. Nobody cares what you think. I was hoping you understood that at this point."
"Why can't you keep me?"
The woman shifted uncomfortably in the deck chair and picked up a rubber toy shark left outside on the table, abandoned after being played with in the pool at one point. Her lean fingers absentmindedly manipulated the toy, her fingernails testing the sharpness of the rubber teeth. "I can't keep you here because I have a family. There's really no way to fit a dog/slave into our way of life."
The words came with some reservation and a far away look in Valerie's eyes.
