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When Feisty thought back on it now, she had to admit that she didn’t remember much about her life before Curly Hair took her in. She was only quite young when that occurred, after all. All she really remembered was that one moment she was warm and well-fed and happy, and then suddenly she was cold and hungry and alone. The warmth – her mother, who had called her ‘Feisty’ over and over for some reason she couldn’t work out – was no longer anywhere nearby and she knew that she had walked a very long way indeed as nothing nearby seemed familiar. Even huddled against one of the smelly, silver objects that the Large Ones put their garbage in she was not shielded from the heavy water droplets that fell from above.
Feisty was sure that she was near death when she suddenly heard a voice. Looking up, her eyes fell on one of the Large Ones and her first reaction was terror. She growled and bared her teeth in an attempt to look ferocious. A rumbling sound emitted from the Large One…although it was not a threatening sound. Rather it was one that obviously expressed some form of pleasure – amusement, perhaps?
“Well, hello there. What are you doing out here all by yourself?” the Large One’s voice rumbled pleasantly in Feisty’s ears – even if she couldn’t understand a word it was saying. It bent down to her, examining her carefully.
Feisty looked right back at it: it appeared to be female.
“Hmm, no identification tags…you must be a stray,” she continued in her Large One gibberish. “I should at least take you inside to see that you’re all right.” And with that she was scooped up in her strong arms.
Feisty was terribly frightened, and about to try and break free when she felt her hands brush gently down her back, calming her. Curly Hair had gentle hands. Nothing like the rough, cruel hands that ripped her away from her mother’s warmth and dumped her outside.
“Shh…it’s okay,” Curly Hair said soothingly as he tucked her under her jacket. She smelled warm and clean. “Aren’t you a good-looking animal? Beautiful fur…”
She took Feisty inside her dwelling, talking to her all the time. “I’ve always loved dogs, you know,” Curly Hair says. “We've just moved here. I'm not sure how long we'll be staying. We have to move around a lot. But we have to stop eventually. Especially now that...well. Now. But Pops has always insisted we need a dog..." she trails off and is silent for a long moment before speaking again. "I wonder if John keeps dogs as an adult, too? He must, especially during the war…”
Feisty looks up at Curly Hair in confusion. Her tone is suddenly bright, but she looks sad.
Once inside, Curly Hair puts Feisty down some large sheets of black-and-white paper on the large, four-legged wooden contraption – Feisty vaguely remembered a similar contraption being referred to as a ‘table’ – before she stood her there.
“Hmm, are you hurt?” Curly Hair asked, bending her head down and running her hands gently up and down Feisty’s legs carefully, as if she were looking for something. Curly Hair had taken the material layer with the funny brim on it off and had the head-fur that many (but not all) Large Ones possessed. Although hers was long and curly – all the other head-fur Feisty had seen was either short or straight.
Curly Hair had green eyes, another thing that she had never seen before. Feisty wondered briefly if perhaps Curly Hair was some sort of rare sub-breed of Large One. Or perhaps all the Large Ones around this area – wherever she was – had the same colour head-fur and eyes as this one. But the Large Ones came in so many different colours and shapes and sizes, who could tell?
“Hmm, are you a boy or a girl, I wonder?” Curly Hair said, looking at Feisty’s under-belly. Feisty had to wonder what on earth she was looking for. “Ah, you’re a girl. Or female, I guess I should say. But you don’t look very old…so maybe girl does suit you better.”
“Sarah! Who are you talking to?”
That was the voice of another Large One! Feisty nearly jumped off the table…and would have if not for the gentle hand of the Large One resting softly on her back, reassuring her.
“Come look,” Curly Hair responded to the other voice. “I’m in the kitchen.”
“Is that a puppy?”
It was indeed another Large One. He looked similar to the first one, yet also different. It was bigger and appeared to be male in gender. His head-fur was dark – very dark – and far shorter than the other Large One’s. His grey eyes were sharp and focused on her with a laser-like intensity.
Curly Hair laughed. “Yes, Kyle, a puppy.”
“Why is there a puppy standing on your table? What’s he doing here?”
“It’s a she, actually, Kyle.” Curly Hair – Yes, she thought. I will call her Curly Hair so as to tell them apart. After all, who on earth knows what their actual names are? – “And I found her outside, all cold and alone. No ID tags, either.”
“A stray?” the other asked.
Curly Hair nodded. “I think so. I don’t know where on earth she could have come from, though. She’s a Siberian Husky, see, and there aren’t many of those around here, as their coats are so thick”
The other Large One – Short Hair, Feisty decided to call him – nodded. “She is a beautiful animal. Nice fur and everything. Those markings make her look a bit like a panda…” he trails off, and carefully stretches his hands out towards her, presenting them for her to sniff.
Feisty could appreciate that.
“Yep, Sibes come in black and white, red and white, grey, and white, I think.”
“Sibes?”
Curly Hair flashed her teeth at her friend – in a smile, though, not a threat. “It’s what the breed is called for short,” she said as she scooped Feisty up in her arms again, holding her against her chest.
Feisty wasn’t terribly fond of being held by a Large One…but she could perhaps learn to make an exception for Curly Hair…
Short Hair flashed his teeth back at Curly Hair, and moved closer to him, so that their faces were only inches apart, and Feisty could feel the warmth of both their bodies. Short Hair's belly was flat and hard, Curly Hair's softer but with a hard roundness to it which confused her.
“I love all those weird little general knowledge things that you know,” he said, his voice low all of a sudden.
Feisty wondered if he had a head cold from the rain, even if he did appear quite dry.
“It’s not as if I know anyone else who knows the nickname for the Tibetan Husky breed,” he said, his face a bear inch away from Curly Hair’s.
Curly Hair smiled. “Siberian Husky,” she said.
"I'm glad one of us will have something worthwhile to teach him," Short Hair says.
Curly Hair starts to reply, only to be cut off as her friend pressed his lips against Curly Hair’s cheek. He gently presses his palm against her belly.
Curly Hair’s cheeks went rather pink.
Feisty cocked her head, perplexed. What were they doing?! Feisty had seen Large Ones do that before – ‘kissing,’ she believed it was called – but she knew that mouth-to-mouth kissing occuring between two people apparently had something to do with the courtship ritual which led to mating. What did a kiss on the cheek mean?
Needless to say, Feisty was quite confused.
They pulled apart slightly, and Short Hair looked down at Feisty with those blue eyes. “Sarah…she’s eyeballing me…”
Curly Hair rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Kyle,” she said, kissing him again. “She’s just a puppy.”
Short Hair was still looking at her warily, before the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Yeah, you’re right. You kn-”
A strange scent wafted into Feisty’s nose, and her fur stood straight up.
Danger!
She started barking, as ferociously as she could. She still wasn’t sure what to make of these Large Ones, but she felt somehow instinctively compelled to warn them.
To protect them.
She had no idea why.
Large Ones confused her.
“Hey!” Curly Hair says to her, scrambling to hold onto her. “What’s wrong? It’s all right, it’s okay, you’re safe…”
“I believe she is responding to me,” another voice – deep and strangely accented in a way she has never heard before – says.
Another Large One? How many of them are there in this pack?
It was indeed another Large One. And large it was. It also appeared to be male in gender and was enormous. Feisty had never seen a Large One that big. He seemed older than the other two and his head-fur was grey and his eyes blue, like the sky.
He smelled…strange.
Like danger.
The Enormous Large One merely looks at her with what seems to be approval.
“Does this juvenile canine belong to anyone?” he asks.
“No, she’s a stray, I think,” Curly Hair says. “I found her behind a dumpster.”
The Enormous Large One nods. “Good. Then no one will come looking for her. We have needed a new dog for some time and it is absolutely imperative now. Her reaction to me shows promise. It does not appear it will take much to train her to detect Terminators and other tech. She will be of great assistance in keeping you all safe from harm."
With that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving just as suddenly as he appeared.
Curly Hair and Short Hair were silent for a long moment, and then looked at each other.
“Well. Looks like we’re keeping her then,” Curly Hair says. “She’s just a baby. She needs a name.”
Short Hair shook his head from side to side, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, yet said nothing more. All during this period free from Large One gibberish, Curly Hair looked down at Feisty, as if considering something.
“Well?”
Feisty nearly jumped out of Curly Hair’s arms at the sudden break in the silence.
“Well what?”
Short Hair rolled his eyes again. “Well, what will you name her?”
Curly Hair looked down at her again, seeming to be in a thoughtful state of mind. “Something interesting,” she said suddenly. “Something with substance. And with meaning.”
“Like…?”
“Hmm…how about a good, strong Irish name?”
Short Hair smiles.
“How about ‘Kelsey’?” Curly Hair says. “It means ‘brave’. We can call her ‘Kel’ for short.”
Feisty tilts her head and Curly Hair and Short Hair both look down at her. Curly hair stretches her own hands out for Feisty to sniff, and then – carefully and slowly, Feisty notices – pats Feisty on the head. Gently.
“Kel? How do you like that?” Curly Hair says, scratching Feisty under the chin.
Feisty’s tail begins to wag of its own accord and Curly Hair and Short Hair both smile.
“‘Kel’ it is,” Curly Hair says. “And she’s just a puppy. It’ll be good for John to grow up with a dog so…”
Curly Hair falls silent. She and Short Hair are looking at each other intently. Feisty thinks they may both be in some sort of pain but she can’t work it out.
She butts Curly Hair in the hip with her head and whines.
The two of them look down at her, surprised.
Then, they smile and Short Hair finally reaches out to pat Feisty on the head. His voice is soft.
“Well, I’ve always wanted a puppy.”