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When he heard the faint rumbling from the garage that meant Daddy was home, Steve squirmed out of his bed, where he’d been dozing, and trotted to the door where Daddy would come in.
“Hi, Steve,” Daddy greeted him, smiling as he stooped down to scoop Steve into his arms. “How was your day?”
Steve’s tail wagged hard as it could and he licked Daddy’s bristly chin. “I went outside and talked to some other dogs and told them this was our house and they couldn’t have it. But you were gone, Daddy, and I thought you were never coming back!”
“Yeah, yeah, I missed you, too,” Daddy laughed. “Why don’t you come with me to work tomorrow? Everybody really liked you last time.”
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Ooh, are you going to feed me now, Daddy? Daddy!”
“How about some kibble for you and reheated Chinese for me?”
Daddy set Steve on the hardwood floor and went about filling Steve’s bowl with the promised kibble, which Steve enthusiastically gobbled down while the microwave hummed. When he was done eating, he found Daddy in the living room, relaxing on the couch while he ate dinner and watched TV. Steve hopped up and settled comfortably in Daddy’s lap. He really loved Daddy, but he missed Mommy sometimes.
He missed Bucky all the time.
Steve had been the runt of his litter and often bore the brunt of his siblings’ playful aggression. He always put up a valiant fight, but his smallness kept him at a disadvantage. It wasn’t a bad life, though, and then Mommy came. She had curly, white hair and a sweet voice with a different accent from most other human voices he’d heard. She smelled good and her spotted hands stroked him gently.
She named him Steve.
She told him she adopted him because she wanted her other dog, Bucky, to have a friend. “He’s a Doberman, so he’s quite a bit bigger than you, but I’m sure you’ll get on just fine,” she said. “He’s very sweet-natured.”
Once they arrived at Mommy’s house, she carried him inside, where they were greeted by a black and brown dog who was indeed “quite a bit bigger” than Steve.
“Mommy, Mommy, you’re home! Who’s that? Is that a dog? I wanna sniff it!”
“Hello, Bucky, darling. This is Steve, your new friend.” Mommy pulled a chair away from the table and sat, placing Steve in her lap. “He’s still a puppy, so you must play gently with him.”
“Who are you? Are you a dog? You look like a dog. I’m a dog. My name’s Bucky.” Bucky’s cold, black nose sniffed all over Steve’s body. “You’re really little. You smell okay. Mommy’s great. This is our house where we live. There are other dogs that don’t live here because this is not their house. Who are you?”
“Mommy says I’m Steve. I’m a dog.”
Bucky licked Steve’s head. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Steve and Bucky spent all their time together. They groomed each other and ate breakfast and dinner side by side. When Steve bolted out the doggy door to bark at a squirrel, Bucky always followed right behind. When Bucky was outside informing other dogs in the neighborhood that he was a dog and that this was their house and their yard, Steve always joined him. When Steve curled up in the little bed Mommy had given him, Bucky eschewed his own bed and curled up around Steve, completely smushing the bed. Mommy laughed in delight and took a photograph.
Steve grew up and was still small, but he was happy with Bucky and Mommy and knew they would always be together.
But then something went wrong.
Mommy was sick and her niece Sharon came and before Steve and Bucky knew it, Mommy was crying and saying goodbye to them, calling them her dear boys and saying she was sorry, but she had to go away. Sharon said, “Don’t worry, Aunt Peggy; we’re going to take them to a no-kill shelter.”
Steve and Bucky didn’t fully understand what was going on, but they still had each other, even if Sharon took them to a strange place full of other dogs and people they didn’t know. They were in a cage with a cold floor, but the people treated them well and fed them and they were still together.
Then one day, Bucky was taken away. He didn’t come back and he didn’t come back and he didn’t come back. Steve howled for him forever, but he didn’t come back. Steve picked at his food and slept a lot and then one day a nice man with big, gentle hands and a gap-toothed grin came and took Steve to his house. He smelled nice and he gave Steve a pillowcase-covered pillow for a bed and gave Steve good food and sometimes even fed him special treats.
Daddy was wonderful, but Steve missed Bucky.
For some time now, Daddy had gone out and come back home smelling like something different and interesting. Daddy talked frequently about someone named Natasha and said he felt like a tween with a crush. Natasha, according to Daddy, was smart as a whip and gorgeous and told dad jokes.
“She is my goddess, Steve,” Daddy said.
Steve licked his face.
Then Daddy went out and came back smelling like another dog, like—“Buckyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Steve howled. “Bucky, Bucky, Buckyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
“Yow, Steve!” Daddy exclaimed, covering his ears. “What the hell is up with dogs today? First Sasha, now you.”
“Buckyyyyyyyyyyyy! Where are youuuuuuuuuuuuu?”
Daddy went to his bedroom and shut the door. Steve followed him and scratched at it, but Daddy didn’t open it.
“—just don’t get it!” Daddy was saying. “I took these pants out of the dryer this morning. Did I suddenly become hideous and you’re just too nice to say anything, Nat? Have I become so fugly that it makes babies cry and dogs howl?”
Steve kept scratching at the door. “Daddy, you’re in there and I’m out here. Let me in there. I’m a dog and I’m out here. Let me in, Daddy.”
“Hold on, Nat, Steve’s about to take the paint off the door.” Daddy opened the door and Steve scrambled in and licked Daddy’s ankles. Daddy was wearing his pajamas and talking on his cell phone.
“Yeah, he’s a good boy,” Daddy said in that tone Steve knew meant Daddy was talking about him. He sat up on his hindquarters and smiled at Daddy. “Who’s a good boy?” Daddy asked him, scratching him under his chin.
“I am, Daddy. I’m a good boy.”
Daddy scooped Steve up and they lay together on the bed while Daddy kept talking on the phone.
“Tomorrow night? Sure. I’ll make pancakes,” Daddy said, and after a pause: “Because breakfast for dinner is special, Natasha, just like you.”
The next evening, Natasha came over and Steve couldn’t properly appreciate meeting her because she smelled like Bucky, too!
“Buckyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Steve howled. “Buckyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
“Oh, my God,” Daddy said. “He never does this, I swear!”
Natasha laughed. “I believe you. I’m still trying to get over hearing Sasha howl yesterday. He never makes noise. The rescue people said it was probably because of something that svoloch who made him fight did.”
“Tell me where Bucky is!” Steve insisted, pawing at Natasha’s feet.
“He looks like a little, old man,” Natasha cooed, crouching down to scratch behind Steve’s ears. “I just love wire-haired dachshunds.” Steve wanted her to tell him about Bucky, but he was soon on his back, getting his belly rubbed and wagging his tail. Natasha had great hands.
Later, after eating pancakes, Daddy and Natasha were on the couch together, kissing, and Steve hopped right up and claimed Natasha’s lap for himself. Daddy made mournful sounds and spoke of betrayal while Natasha laughed, but then Daddy said, “Looks like you’ve got the Steve Wilson Stamp of Approval. I guess all that’s left is to see if he and Sasha can get along, huh?”
“I guess so. Why don’t we just take Steve along when you drive me home tomorrow morning?”
“Sounds like a plan, Stan.”
“Ugh, don’t rhyme. Why would you do that?”
“Excuse me? This from the woman who gave her dog a name that rhymes with hers? You live in a glass house, Nat, and you should not throw stones.”
The following morning, they all ate breakfast, Daddy and Natasha took a really long shower together, and then they all got in Daddy’s car. Steve rode in Natasha’s lap, excited to stick his head out the open window and smell all the interesting scents.
Eventually they stopped in front of a house and Natasha carried him inside. Steve was ready to sniff all around and explore, but he heard a bark he thought he’d never hear again.
“Steve!”
“Bucky!” Steve whined and squirmed in Natasha’s arms and she set him down so he could greet the dog who came bounding down the hallway.
“Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” Bucky cried, sniffing all over Steve and whining.
“Bucky, Bucky, you’re here! I thought I’d never see you again! You look different, but you’re you! I missed you!” Steve sniffed all over Bucky in return and jumped around, so excited that he was about to pop.
Bucky licked Steve’s head and Steve licked Bucky’s head and they were both crying and wagging their tails, though these days Bucky had far less tail to wag. His ears were also pointy and sticking up rather than rounded and folded over. He was also missing his left front leg, but it was Bucky! Steve was so overjoyed that he lost control of his bladder.
“Aw, damn it. I’m sorry, Nat,” Daddy said. “I’ll clean that up.”
“It’s a beautiful expression of love, Sam,” Natasha answered. “And are you really going to interrupt this scene to clean up a little dog pee?”
“Bucky, I called for you and called for you and I didn’t know where you were, but I could smell you because I’m a dog and you’re a dog. Don’t go away again, Bucky.”
“I won’t, Steve. I’m so glad you’re here! We can be dogs together now.”
“What do you think the story is here? Old friends? I think the shelter people mentioned Steve had come in with a friend, but I wasn’t paying much attention at the time.”
“Seems so. Really, what are the odds of this happening?” said Natasha. She put an arm around Daddy’s waist. “We can’t separate them again, Sam. Look at them.”
Bucky and Steve were still whining and nosing and pawing and licking at each other.
“The only solution is for us to move in together,” Natasha said casually.
“Clearly,” Daddy said, his expression wry, but he leaned down and kissed Natasha.
“Bucky, let’s go outside and tell everybody that we’re dogs and this is our house.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, Steve.”
-fin-