By Annie Lamarche

-August-
 

—Borzoi 

The Woman came home early today. Her eyes were dotted with tears. Door closing behind her, she threw her purse into the corner. I instinctively made my way to my set of bowls beside my oval bed. She lifted the bag of pellets and came to my side. The pellets bounced and rolled over themselves until they formed an even pile of food. The meal disappeared into my stomach as quickly as it came, my hunger soon churning into thirst. I licked the bowl clean and looked up at The Woman, her hand reaching for a bottle of water. After this, she made her way to the rectangular tank of water sitting atop its stand. She lifted a small container and removed a pellet resembling my own. It only took one to satisfy the silent water. I wondered if my water had been adequately fed before I drank it. 

The Woman disappeared through her bedroom door. I knew her bed was in that room thanks to memories of my puppyhood. My new lack of stimuli brought forth my curiosity and need for exploration. My nails clacked softly against the tile until I sat in front of the towering, white door. Scratching the paint would lead to scolding, as would barking or whining. A creative approach was the only way to safely draw out The Woman. Snatching up my stuffed bone, I clamped my teeth down and let up quickly. A high-pitched squeak stabbed through the air. 

Bed springs and blankets shifted in the unseen room. Fabric settled against the floor behind newly approaching footsteps until the doorknob began to turn. The crack parted far enough for The Woman to see my upturned eyes and dancing tail. A smile broke her sad expression, her hand moving to open the door all the way. Behind her were piles of laundry and a stack of dishes beside the bed. The view fell away from reality when she stepped out and shut the door. Bending her knees, she tugged on the bone and laughed at my resistance. A quick twist was all it took for the toy to slip from my grip with a soft squeak. She waved it in the air, sounding off the noise over and over. I wagged my tail and spun in a circle. 

“Zoomies!” she called through another wave of laughter. My legs had a mind of their own, each of my movements sporadic and unplanned. My body flew in circles until my vision blurred. The Woman reeled back and chucked the bone across the room. Head whipping around, I tracked the toy intently. My legs moved so fast enough to numb. I was at the opposite end of the room in no time, bone in mouth and head already turning. The burst of energy carried me through three more laps before she surprised me. Toy in her hand, it waved just above my reach while I snapped at the air helplessly. Caught in a fit of laughter, she let her guard down enough for me to jump and steal it from her grasp. Soon enough, we both felt our energy crash. Lying down with lungs working overtime, I felt her hand ruffle my fur.


—Shrimp 

Crashing sounds and wailing sirens suddenly, my senses were overwhelmed with panic and wonder. I let go of my yummy pellet and scrambled along the shifting gravel. The urgency tripped up one leg after another, the rest of them making up each mistake with quick adjustments. My antennae slid along the smooth glass, the rush of senses sending my brain in circles. Focusing hard, I ignored the sensory overload the best I could and stared into the outside. The Woman and The Anteater were dancing wildly. 

These two were such strange creatures. I often hear The Woman in her room listening to a distant voice. It speaks of animals from across the world, one being The Anteater. Why such a long, peculiar critter lives with us, I never understood. Come to think of it, I had never seen The Anteater eat any ants, just large bowls of pellets. Still, its snout was long as the voice had said. What else could he be?
 

—Borzoi 

My exhaustion must have bored The Woman because she sunk back into her bedroom. I rolled along the floor in an attempt to get up. A beam of warm, yellow light cut through the curtains and ran over my eyes. Closing them tight, I felt my brain climb into the warm embrace of the sun. I wished that my bed was as cozy as this time of day. The wishing didn’t last long, as dreaming took over. 

I found myself in a barren field of grass. There were no hills or clouds, just the green of the ground and the blue of the sky. I turned around hoping to find someone or something to keep me company in such a lonely plane. What I found was a small pool sunk into the grass. Stepping up to the edge, I peered down into the water. Below its clear form was a surface akin to the tile in my home. Despite the shallow depth, I couldn’t quite see what was floating in the middle of the blue. My eyes unfocused every time I zoned in on the object. It was something small and curly, though that was the only description I could squeeze out. 

The blanket of sun was gone when I opened my eyes. It was late and I had nothing but memory to guide my legs. I stumbled through the blackness around the table and towards my oval bed. The cushioned sides wrapped me in a far colder, though much softer embrace. Trying to force myself back to sleep, I thought of that tank sitting atop its stand by The Woman’s bedroom door. I remembered seeing something in the past, a small mass floating through the contained sea. Could that have been what I saw in my dream? 

-September- 

—Shrimp  

The Anteater had been lying for so long I thought he had passed. When he arose, his pointy face stuck towards me periodically throughout the day. It worried me when his tongue ran along his teeth and lips. How long had it been since The Woman fed him? How long would it be before he stuck his nose into my home and swallowed me whole? Such worries drove me crazy. I had a small bit of pellet remaining, and I didn’t intend on keeping it waiting.  

—Borzoi 

I thought the thing in the water may be alive. I was hoping to meet it once again in slumber, but my second sleep had been devoid of dreams. The entity seemed to freeze when I watched for too long. Not wanting to disturb its privacy, I went back to gnawing on my solid bone. This toy wasn’t as exciting as the stuffed one with its squeaking capabilities. The advantage that this one had is its durability for extended chewing sessions. I had learned over the years to be very careful with stuffed toys as chewing them too much ruined their delightful squeaks. The white fluff inside of them tasted quite bad. 

The Woman came home looking worse than usual. Bags hung from her eyes so prominently you’d think she was born with them. Her clothing, something that used to cycle consistently, had ceased its change. The same outfit sagged lower and lower as the days went on. Dark stains ran along the edges of each sleeve and pant leg. The smell of spoiled food clung to her for dear life only to overflow and emanate from her bedroom. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I could see that she was unhappy. I didn’t like that. 

Bone stuffed in my mouth, I sat outside of The Woman’s bedroom door and sent squeaks her way. There was some shifting and distant groaning, though not a single footstep. Feeling guilty, I resorted to scratching at the door. I was careful to make the noise without peeling any paint as I had done in my puppyhood. The old marks were still in the corner, their width noticeably smaller than my fully grown nails. This insistent begging worked after a few moments. The Woman came to the door looking disheveled and exhausted, her hair a mess of unkempt tangles. I whipped my tail side to side and gave her another inviting squeak. She held her hand out limply, and I dropped the toy into her loose grasp. She tossed it underhand halfway across the room. I didn’t feel the full spike of energy, just a little boost. The feeling carried me to the toy and spun me around to the closing door. I was disappointed to see that she hadn’t stepped out of her room before clicking it shut. 

—Shrimp 

The Anteater paced along the room looking quite stressed. More than anything I hoped that this stress would not lead to hunger. Unfortunately, I myself had been carrying a fair bit of hunger as well as stress. The Woman began feeding me less regularly. I had taken care to preserve the food for longer, though I worried that this would convince her I did not need as much. This worry sparked a greater concern that sat heavy in my empty stomach. Had she forgotten to feed The Anteater? I hadn’t been paying much attention on account of my own struggles. What if he turned to me for sustenance? This drove me to start a burrow in the back corner of my home. The gravel wasn’t deep, though any bit of distance could prove useful against the long snout of The Anteater.

—Borzoi 

Wandering the room kept my limbs from stiffening and my mind from maddening. Any sort of task, no matter how menial, was welcomed by my restless state. I lapped the room over and over, my path focusing along the wall, around the table, and a few feet away from the water tank. The swimming entity still crossed my mind, though it was vastly overshadowed by my nagging desire for anything to happen. 

Creeping up to the tank, I poked my head just above the stand. I had to keep my head perfectly straight as my snout would poke far above my eyes if not cared for. This created a sort of barrier that kept me a bothersome distance from the glass. Straining my eyes, I saw gravel, a small rock, and the entity poking out from a hole in the back corner. I had seen something like this before. It was a Cheese Curl. The Woman had eaten some in the past, and I never noticed their sentience. What was so special about this one? What compelled her to soak it in water and surround it with glass? The Cheese Curl watched me with round, black eyes that seemed to pop out of its head. Curiously, the water had taken its bright orange color and made it a darker red. I couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted, as The Woman never let me eat one. This one was clearly special. She likely wouldn’t appreciate it if I took him for myself. 

Shrinking back to the corner that housed my bed and bowls, I licked the remaining crumbs from the shiny surface. Recently The Woman had been forgetting my pellets and leaving my stomach begging. Judging by my last attempt at garnering attention, I wasn’t ready to make my hunger known. I kept myself busy by gnawing on the hard bone and resting in my oval bed. Neither came easy yet both felt necessary.  

-October- 

—Shrimp 

The Woman rarely left her room over the past few days. Maybe once a week she would step out to grab a snack. I felt growing hunger pains as time went on. I curled and rubbed my stomach, scoured every bit of leftover pellet, and huddled in my burrow to conserve energy. An awful part of me wanted The Anteater to come take me. Could the quick end be better than this sustained aching? Another part of me continued to brace myself when he came near. His teeth sent a rush of panic into my body that took hours to settle.

 
—Borzoi 

There was one day that The Woman spent time outside of her room. Children came to the door in small groups shouting, “Trick or treat!” and holding out thick pillowcases. She sat at the table with a cauldron of treats, answering the door as it rang to add to the children’s stuffed bags. It was wonderful to see her so active, even if her mood was still low. I hoped that this trend would continue. Unfortunately, she went back to being a hermit as soon as the knocking ceased. 

My attempts at scratching grew more frequent. The Woman responded a few times, but only those few. The room’s smell worsened till it made my eyes water. I started whining and even barking, but it didn’t seem to work. My snout could reach the doorknob, but I couldn’t figure out how to work it. After cursing my lack of intelligence, I spent some time pacing in front of the water tank. The Cheese Curl spent less time hiding now, his position nearing every so often. The days of starving must have driven him crazy because his fear seemed to slip away entirely. Pressing my nose against the glass, I stared into his Blank eyes and fidgeting limbs. If The Woman never stepped out of her room, then she would never be upset about The Cheese Curl going missing. 

—Shrimp 

Something clattered to the floor beyond my vision. The Anteater sank down for a few moments before revisiting my level. I could see the small movements along his lips, the telltale signs of a predator getting ready to pounce. He rose high above my home to an angle my head couldn’t tilt to accommodate. Breath sliding along the water’s surface, he hovered idly like a stalking vulture.  

My mind raced with fear and my body curled tight with stress. None of this was enough to move me, an empty stomach draining what little energy I had. All I could do was brace myself for the end. I tried to ease my mind like nothing was the matter, like I hadn’t already eaten the last pellet of my life. A smell swirled around me as this was happening. Something familiar, something that had me instinctively picking at the ground for food. Propping myself up on the bottom of the glass, I looked at the swirling view of The Anteater. By some miracle, his open mouth rained pellets into my home. My last bit of energy shot to my limbs and carried me to the closest one. I clung on tight, my tail curling all the way around it. None of my previous meals, though identical to this one, had ever tasted so good. I dug into the pellet faster than I believed possible. Throughout my indulgence, I wished more than anything that I could convey my thanks to The Anteater. 

—Borzoi 

I had given The Cheese Curl around half of the canister before taking my share. The amount I ate could have sustained him for ages, but to me it was a light snack. This was okay because I learned something very important. In my task, I had oriented my snout to grab onto the awkward shape of the canister. This was something that I never thought to apply in any other scenario. Allowing The Cheese Curl to enjoy his meal, I stepped back and put my mind to work. 

At first it was very difficult to close my mouth around the doorknob. My teeth slipped off the surface, saliva making it impossible to create any friction. I soon found that moving in close and craning my neck in a most uncomfortable manner was the only solution to this puzzle. So excited that I nearly slipped, I turned the doorknob and pressed my neck into the opening door. I was finally going to see The Woman again. She was going to feed me after all this time. 

Flies buzzed around rotting food and dirty clothes. It quickly became apparent that The Woman hadn’t consumed most of the food she took into the room with her. I thought about eating it, but the smell made me gag. Walking around a tower of dishes, I shifted my weight onto my hind legs and propped myself up on the edge of the bed. The Woman was sleeping silently. An empty, yellow canister sat beside her drooling head. A fly walked along her pale cheek without finding any disturbance. I licked her face despite how awful she smelled. I nudged her nose with my own and yipped at her so loudly I hurt my ears. Why wouldn’t she wake up? 

-November- 

—Borzoi 

My patience was running as thin as my stomach. Sitting had become uncomfortable, my bones digging into any hard surface I tried to find comfort on. I was losing faith that The Woman was sleeping. She must have been hibernating. There was no telling how long it would be until she would get up and fill my bowl. I decided that it was time to take matters into my own paws. 

I kissed The Woman goodbye, as well as the glass tank hosting The Cheese Curl. He seemed happy in there, eating all day and swimming circles around his rock. My attention turned to the front door. This one was trickier than The Woman’s bedroom door. I had to turn a small piece of metal until it clicked. After that, the doorknob turned freely. Unsurprisingly, I had to struggle for the perfect angle before getting it open. I felt a rush of relief once I had done it. 

The outdoors were as beautiful as I remembered. Instead of my dream’s blank blue sky, the sun hung high above a sprawling mix of clouds. Trees pointed at the beauty above and dug into the grass below. I felt that wonderful sense of ‘zoomies,’ as The Woman had called it. My wobbling legs took me out of the house and onto the front yard. Dandelions swayed around me as I got to the sidewalk, occasional cars whipping by. A child leaned out one of the windows and waved at me. Unfortunately, my paws did not have the capability to return this favor. 

I explored the area rather aimlessly until I came to a solitary backyard. A small pond, much darker than the one in my dreams, was sitting in the corner of the space. Rushing to the water, I took down refreshing gulps as fast as I could. The taste was so different from what I was used to. I filled my stomach with the murky water in no time. Beside the pond was a collection of plastic toys. Their size suggested they belonged to human children rather than any canine. One of them, a blue pail with a thin handle, sparked an idea in my growing brain. I was impressed with all of the skills I had learned in such a short amount of time. Just a while ago, I could only play fetch or roll over, but now I was carrying a pail of water for later. So smart! 

Feeling much better, my body began to focus on things other than my stomach. The air was quite chilly. Dewey grass nipped my paws uncomfortably. I wanted to get somewhere warm, but I knew that food was much more important. Following my nose and eyes, I turned down street after street chasing something I couldn’t identify. The smell was unique in the most beautiful way. It became the sole focus of my mind and body as I traversed what felt like a maze. I was nearly out of water and energy by the time I found it. A small alley, one that smelled of smoke and meat, sat before me with a flickering light towards the end of it. I moved through the space and dodged the scurrying rats. At the end was a small campfire with something roasting above it. A man, looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster, watched me quietly as he rotated the food. It smelled so good. Beside him was a dog belonging to a breed I didn’t recognize. That was what made the smell so different. Dog and food. Could things have gotten any better than that? 

The mysterious dog and I circled each other, snouts running along unfamiliar fur. The smell was almost addictive. I hadn’t met another dog since my puppyhood. Being with one, unfamiliar as he was, felt like reuniting with a long lost loved one. I wondered how The Woman and The Shrimp would feel if they were reunited with their kind. I hoped that they would one day experience such pleasures. 

—Shrimp 

I found myself in metaphorical heaven. All I ever wanted or could want was floating around me. My legs wouldn’t stop moving, and I found myself zipping around as fast as The Anteater had while playing with The Woman. Bless my wonderous shrimp life. I found my gravel fortress amusing. The amazing creature once scared me so much that I felt the need to hide. If he never found me, then I never would have been gifted with such wonders. I hoped that The Anteater, wherever he was, found himself just as happy as I have.  

-December- 

—Shrimp 

I may have gone overboard with my celebrations. What I once thought was an unlimited supply of pellets had now become a dwindling mess of scattered crumbs. I had gotten too greedy,  and there was no coming back from it. Lucky for me, The Anteater visited every week. Each time, he came carrying a pail with some bits of meat for me to feast upon. He would always check in on The Woman, who has been in her room for months at this point. After this, The Anteater would ensure that he saved enough food for the voyage back. I wasn’t sure where he went off to, just that it was someplace with wonderful food. 

After some weeks, The Anteater began coming in a shivering state. His stomach stuck out like he ate far more than anyone should. I worried that he would get sick from all the food, though anything would be better than starvation. Snow clung to his fur more thickly as time went on. It must have been a difficult journey because he came less frequently overtime and with smaller, colder chunks of meat. The trouble he went through for me was so generous, so kindhearted, that it was hard to believe he was anything but a fellow shrimp. 

—Borzoi 

The winter has been very difficult. Things were wonderful in my new home, but the voyage to The Cheese Curl kept getting more harrowing. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to make many more trips. I decided to attempt one big trip to hopefully last him the winter. I stocked my pail with as much meat as I could and went on my way. 

Snow came down hard, and ice covered the puddles and ponds. I tried to chew on snow, but it didn’t do much for my thirst. I nibbled on the meat just as much as I needed to keep me going. I could feel my body heat falling victim to the elements with each blistering step through the cold. The meat would have to last him. It would simply have to. I let myself go hungry in the final hour of the walk. My legs failed me a few times, but I managed to push through. Everything hurt so bad that I feared I would freeze and crack like an icicle. I pushed on through it all, refusing to abandon my beloved Cheese Curl.  

I made it to The Woman’s house and collapsed onto the floor. Snow blew into the room and sprinkled the tile around me. Dragging myself to the tank, I looked up at my eagerly waiting friend. He was safe and that was all that mattered.  

—Shrimp 

I noticed something as I looked upon The Anteater. His stomach bulged more than I thought possible. He wasn’t a he at all. She was pregnant! I imagined all the little eggs floating around in there. Unlike a shrimp, The Anteater didn’t have a translucent body showing off how many would come. I was so happy I did a lap around the tank. Then I hovered by the glass, watching, my mind beginning to worry at the lack of progress in front of me. 

—Borzoi 

My insides felt like they were clawing to get out. I shivered so hard I nearly passed out as waves of nausea and pain swept through me. Unknown liquid spread under me as the clock ticked onward. The puppies were on their way. I needed to get back home. I would be bound in that alley for months caring for my babies. The Cheese Curl would run out of food and perish without my deliveries. I stared, exhausted out of my fur, at the cold meat in front of me. I knew that I couldn’t make it back without the energy. The Cheese Curl couldn’t eat this meat if I was to save my puppies. The dilemma hurt more than the increasing waves of pain. I had to act fast before I was too broken to move. I kicked over the pail and scarfed down the meat. It was disgusting and solid from the frozen water infused with it. I never realized just how substantial the effects of cooking and seasoning were. The Man was an excellent chef. 

Never in my life had I taken such a taxing voyage. The snow was sharp against my bleeding paws, and my breath left in puffs of white. The overwhelming sense of burden and urgency was bogged down by my physical limitations. Despite the pain, the freeze, and the constant urge to give up, I pressed on. I imagined kissing my puppies and nuzzling their father’s fur. These hopes brought me a strength I never would have had otherwise. It carried me past the frozen lakes, the icy sidewalks, and the snowy hills. It carried me over the bridge and past the warm houses. Heated cars and huddled humans all fell into the backdrop. All there was in this world was my family. This hurt, this cold, and this suffering would all be worth the joy my puppies would bring. 

Finally, making it into the alleyway, I collapsed into The Man’s lap. I felt my entire body shudder and reel at the promise of life. The father of my puppies sniffed at the pail I had dropped by the fire. He stared inside at the cold water and The Cheese Curl shivering inside of it. The heat of the flames brought us all a comfort that didn’t exist in the outside world. The kisses of The Man and my partner filled my heart with everything it could ask for. The Cheese Curl circled in celebration, either towards its newfound safety or the coming miracle. When my puppies came into this world, tiny and squirming aimlessly, their father and I helped them garner warmth along with their bearings. Their eyes were closed, and their fur was short. They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I knew with all my heart that The Woman would have loved them.