Work Text:
1 - Ilya (Papa)
Anya didn’t remember much of what life was like before Papa found her. She had only a handful of memories, vague flashes of moments that all made up the time she thought of as the before.
The haziest ones were her memories of being a puppy, warm and safe, snuggled with her brothers and sisters somewhere with hay and old blankets. She remembered milk from a bottle and hands that poked and prodded her, and spending lots of time asleep.
Then she met the figure she called The Man. He took her from the snuggly puppy den and into a car for the first time. She had sat in his lap while his giant hand lay on her back. She remembered enjoying the warmth of it, remembered her tail wagging. When the car stopped, he took her to a big room that had smells that itched her nose, things like gasoline and dust, with the walls covered in old human things. He put her inside a box with a blanket that wasn’t as snuggly as the one in the puppy den.
And then she stayed there for a long time.
She was completely alone, trapped in that cold place. At first she barked and barked and barked, terrified of being by herself. Then The Man came back with his big voice and hands that hurt, doing it enough times for her to learn it was better not too.
She was quiet after that. Learned that maybe alone was better.
She lived like that for a couple of long, lonely days, until The Man came out one day and picked her up. He took her on another car ride, which made her excited. She wondered if he was going to take her home, back to her brother and sisters and the snuggly blankets.
Instead he opened the door on a country road, put her down on the gravel shoulder, and drove off. She had thought living with The Man was the worst, but she hated that new place even more. She spent a long night out there, listening to cars zoom past her while she was curled in the dirt, hoping not to get hit.
It was sunrise when the nice man found her.
She was wary at first; her experience with humans so far had taught her to stay away. But the man had a kind voice and gentle eyes, the kind that made her want to crawl closer. He smelled like other dogs and something sweet and warm that she couldn’t resist investigating. Patiently, he let her get comfortable enough to take her into his arms. Then they took a car ride to a new place, one with more happy humans that spoke kindly to her and gave her pets, and other dogs who curiously sniffed her.
She watched these new people the first few days in total surprise, too nervous to join in. She didn’t know humans could play, that they could be nice. She was worried it was all an act, that soon enough they’d do something cruel like The Man. She now knew what it was like to enjoy a warm hand that eventually struck.
Quickly, though, she discovered that these humans were good. And once she knew it, once she realized that was possible, she really, really wanted to find a human of her own. Was hoping someone in the house would choose her, finally give her a name.
But the days kept passing and she didn’t have a human. She didn’t even have a name. She was worried maybe she never would, that she would forever be the kind of dog begging for scraps of food and affection.
But then, like a dream come true, Papa came.
He came to visit with the man who had found her, who she now knew was called Harris. Chiron was also with him, one of the dogs who she loved to play with the most. While she and Chiron were saying hello, Papa, who was a stranger at that point, came closer, watching them play. She decided to trot over to him, curious about this big, calm man whose eyes seemed locked on her.
From the moment she got close to him, she had a good feeling.
This man’s presence felt good. Something about his energy seemed safe and happy, like she didn’t need to worry about his hands being the hurting kind. He didn’t rush her when he knelt down, letting her sniff him all over before she gave his leg a tentative lick. After that he gave her the best pets she had ever felt, so good she couldn’t control her tail, her entire body wiggling. He didn’t seem to mind when she crawled in his lap to beg for more, laughing when she licked his face.
Oh yes… Her brain thought, body humming with happiness as she curled into him. I like him. Don’t want to leave.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay with him forever. A short while later she got called away to dinner while he ate with the humans at the table, and she lost track of him. With the help of her nose, though, she was able to find him again, spotting him through the window next to the front door. He was with Harris, the two of them talking in the yard.
He spotted her through the glass door as he talked to Harris, a smile growing on his face the second his eyes landed on her. Harris did the same, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. Her tail started wagging as the pair of them made their way back. She really hoped they would give her pets again once they were inside.
To her delight, the man knelt down in front of her the second he got in, letting her sniff his hand again, laughing when she licked his palm and nuzzled closer.
“I have an important question for you,” he said, looking at her with her face in his hand, expression serious. “Would you like to come live with me at my house? Would you like that, sweet girl? A brand new home?”
Home. She knew that word, wanted to know what it felt like. Hoping to get that across she started wagging her tail, pushing past his hand to nuzzle right into his chest, her head curled near his heart. Harris, who was still standing nearby, laughed.
“I think that’s a yes,” Harris said, looking down at the pair of them. “Looks like you're officially a Papa.”
Papa. She liked the sound of that name, finally knowing what to call this amazing man in front of her.
“Yes,” Papa continued, still petting her. “And your name will be… Anya. Do you like that name? My sweet Anya girl?”
Her brain short circuited, as she realized what she was hearing for the first time.
Wait…
Name?
Anya.
My very own name!!!!
It was the greatest thing she’d ever been given. Hearing Papa say it made her heart leap, made her jump up to give even more kisses, her whole buddy wiggling. Papa laughed the whole time, petting her, still holding her in his lap.
An hour later Anya was taking another car ride, this time with Papa, who kept a hand in her fur as they drove. He talked the whole time, saying that she was safe, that he was her Papa now, and that they were going home.
That’s where Anya lived now. Home. It had been a little over week since she’d arrived here and she still could hardly believe it. It was the nicest building she’d ever been in, warm and clean, quiet and safe, with cuddly surfaces in every room to nap on.
But best of all, home came with Papa.
Anya finally had her own person, and he was the best person ever. Papa was never scary or mean, never hurt her. He gave her delicious food and treats and lots of pets. He played with toys with her and chased her around the backyard. He protected her from the mean man at the office with the needles, and the loud machine he used to take the smells out the carpet.
She loved her Papa more than anything. Loved how he made every day exciting and fun, made her love this new place she lived in. She loved knowing that every morning would start with Papa's smiling face, and the two of them together.
That's why when she saw Papa that morning, she knew something was deeply wrong.
Since living at home with Papa, they had adopted a routine. Anya would wake up in her bed in the living room, take a good stretch, and walk around the house to make sure everything was secure. Then she would trot up to Papa's room, push open the door, and lick his face until he woke up laughing and ready for their morning walk.
Today she did exactly that, only when she licked his face, the laughter never came.
He didn’t even wake up, not fully at least. His sleepy face just scrunched up, a hand pushing her away, and he turned back over into the pillows.
Anya stood there, tilting her head.
Huh?
Papa not waking up?
Not right, not right, not right.
Her alarm bells were going off. Papa always wanted her kisses, always wanted her attention. He said morning cuddles were his favourite.
This made no sense.
She knew she usually waited for Papa to invite her in bed before jumping up, but she couldn’t help it. Papa was acting strange, and she had to get to the bottom of it. Anya moved gently on to his bed, snuffling at his face, licking once in a failed attempt to get his attention.
Papa smelled wrong. Not bad, but different. Almost vulnerable. Something that made her want to whine, want to protect Papa from whatever was making him smell that way. Trying to do exactly that, she pulled back from his face to nose at his chest though the sheets, needing him to show signs of life.
To her relief Papa finally groaned, blinking his eyes open.
“Anya?” he mumbled it like a question. Anya huffed, finally finding a gap in the sheets and nuzzling her way under them, curling into the wall of his chest and shoving him in the process.
“Hey,” Papa protested, but his body still made room for her. Anya situated herself so she was curled against him as close as possible. When Papa's arms wrapped around her she felt herself settle even deeper, her nose right against his neck.
It was better, close like this, but distressing too.
The wrong smell was stronger here. She could feel Papa's heart beating too fast, his tense muscles, his shallow breathing. After a minute of being held she felt dampness seeping against her head. She tilted her face up to see Papa was crying.
Need to fix. Need to help… Anya thought to herself. She gave a gentle lick to the side of Papa’s face, catching his salty tears, before moving her body again and shoving him. Now she was fully on top of him, pinning him down with her weight. Papa let her, moving so he was laying on his back, blinking up at the ceiling, arms still wrapped around her.
They stayed like that for a long time, and something about the position helped. Anya could feel Papa getting better as the time passed, could feel his muscles relax, his heart slow, his smell start to improve. When the hands that were clinging around her started petting her she couldn’t help the thump of her tail, relieved Papa was no longer so still.
“You knew just what Papa needed huh?” Papa finally spoke, voice a cracked whisper. “My good girl…” She tilted her head toward him, to look at his face.
Good girl... she thought to herself, looking at his tired face. I'm a good girl. Protected Papa. Protected pack.
And wow, that was a big word.
Pack.
It was the first time she had used it, something instinctual that was finally surfacing in her. It resonated through every fiber of her being, taking root in her chest.
Pack. Papa is pack.
It felt right. Papa was her pack, and her job was to protect him. She would do it forever, if she was so lucky.
2- Shane (Dad)
Anya had known this human’s smell for a long time.
She had a whole catalogue of smells that lived in her brain now, a lot of familiar ones from around her home and neighbourhood. She had encountered this one before on Papa, mostly on his clothes and skin when he came home from trips, and that one shirt he had hidden in the closet on a low shelf.
Her familiarity with the scent was why she found it easy to wag her tail after the first sniff of this new human’s hand. He was crouching down in the foyer of her home next to Papa, who was standing and surveying them both carefully.
I know you… Anya's brain supplied as she sniffed. This is a Papa smell. Papa knows this person, keeps them close.
“Hello, Anya,” the stranger said, voice timid, still kneeling still in front of her. “It’s very nice to finally meet you.” She moved on from sniffing his hand to his chest, where she could smell a mix of the man and Papa that she had to investigate further. She followed the scent all the way up to his face; only then did the man politely push her back down, a request for more space. She went back to sniffing his hand instead.
“Anya,” Papa spoke, prompting her to stop and look up at him, tilting her head. “This is your Dad, Shane. We both love Dad, yes?”
Anya wasn’t sure who this Dad figure was yet, but she knew Papa said love, and she liked that word. She wagged her tail, leaving the stranger behind to push her head into Papa's leg instead. She was pleased when he leaned down and scratched her ears, calling her a good girl.
From that day on this new stranger, Dad, started coming over to the house.
Anya liked Dad a lot. He gave nice pets, even if he seemed a little nervous at first. He bought her new treats, small green ones that tasted better than anything she’d ever had before. He even gave her new toys, including her current favorite, a soft one shaped like a carrot.
The thing she liked the most about Dad, though, was how happy he made Papa. She loved watching Dad make Papa laugh as they cooked in the kitchen or cuddled in the living room. She especially loved how he made Papa comfortable, at ease in a way that she’d never seen before.
She didn’t even mind all the alone time the two of them spent in Papa's room without her. They always seemed extra happy and cuddly afterwards. Sometimes they’d come down to the couch and let Anya curl between them as they both pet her fur. Those nights were the best.
She was really hoping that exact scenario would happen tonight. Papa had just picked her from the doggy hotel, which usually meant lots of Anya-Papa cuddle time when they got home. She knew from the smell on his clothes that Dad would be there too, something that excited her greatly.
As expected, Dad was standing in the driveway when Papa pulled in, waving at both of them. She scrambled out of the car to greet him when Papa parked and set her free, ready to get all the pets. She crashed into Dad’s legs, who huffed out a laugh before kneeling down to rub her belly as requested. Once Papa caught up to her Dad abandoned his pets to kiss Papa hello, and the three of them moved inside.
Anya's first order of business was seeking out the couch for cuddles, hopefully from both Papa and Dad, but their continued kissing told her they were going to wander off first. They were already moving towards the stairs, hands all over each other as they went up. Watching them go, she settled on reuniting with her bed in the living room instead, the second best thing. She could be patient until they were ready for cuddle time.
She dozed there for a while, in and out of consciousness, occasionally waking to the sounds of her humans moving around in the house. She was fully woken up hours later by Papa and Dad wandering back to the living room. Anya watched in anticipation from her bed as they walked in together, loudly talking and laughing, making her tail start to wag.
Any second now they’d plop down on the couch, and then it was officially her time to shine.
“I could beat you in wrestling match,” Papa said, smiling at Dad where he was standing by the couch. Infuriatingly, not sitting down on it.
“No shot,” Dad said back, shaking his head. “I did professional wrestling for a year in high school-”
“Wow, you wrestled fourteen year old's,” Papa said, rolling his eyes. “Impressive.”
“Shut up,” Dad muttered, stalking closer towards Papa, tense in front of him. That made Anya sit up in interest. “I could literally beat you right now.”
“Could not.”
“Could too!”
“Wanna test that theory?” Papa pushed, raising an eyebrow. Anya watched in surprise as Papa and Dad looked at each other, but not with the usual soft fondness. Instead, the two of them looked like they were sizing each other up. Papa was staring at Dad the way she stared at the ball during Chase, which meant any second now he’d be ready to pounce.
Which is exactly what happened.
In an instant, the two of them were moving. Dad pushed forward first but Papa was quick to follow, the two of them braced on each other, trying to shove the other down. Anya jumped up in a panic, watching from her bed with a nervous whine as the two men struggled against each other, huffing out breath, neither of them budging.
They are… playing? Her mind supplied, as she took them in. Totally confused by their behaviour, on edge as she watched the pair of them start to shove harder.
Papa was gaining the upper hand since he was taller, bigger than Dad. She watched with a raise of her hackles as Dad’s back foot slipped, and Papa pushed him to the ground with a thud. He followed him down, pinning him to the ground. Dad let out a wince, body cringing, pinned under Papa's weight.
Before Anya could even process what she was doing she was hurtling forward into their torsos. Barking, for the first time in her life, the sound echoing through the house.
Dad in danger…. Her mind screamed. Must protect.
She hadn’t barked since she lived with The Man, that first day where she had spoke up in the lonely garage, and he had used his hands in a way that hurt that taught her to stop. She wasn’t even sure if she could still make the sound, given how long it had been.
But this was Dad. And he needed her.
The sound of it was louder than even she expected, the force of her movement enough to startle Papa back with a huff of surprise. Anya positioned herself so she was on top of Dads torso where he was still laying on the ground, looking up at Papa who had scrambled off of him.
Her hackles were slightly raised, an act of instinct as she stared him down. Doing everything she could to swallow the need to growl, something deep down feeling wrong doing it to Papa despite the urge to.
“Oh my God, Anya,” Dad’s voice was rumbling beneath her, a deep murmur that trembled through her frame. She was still braced over him, staring at a wide eyed Papa, who was slowly raising his hands.
“Easy girl. I will not hurt him.” Papa spoke softly, arms raised in submissive surrender, the action so jarring Anya finally let her body settle, realizing just who she was sizing up.
I love Papa. Her brain reminded her, clarity cutting through the instinct to protect. Papa won’t hurt me. Papa is safe.
A wave of shame moved through her as she realized what she had done. Who she had stared at, barked at, ready to attack. She felt herself move to lie flat, still on Dads stomach, hoping to show Papa she was no longer a threat.
She could feel Dad starting to move under her, sitting up, maneuvering Anya so she was held in his lap instead.
“I can’t believe she barked at you,” Dad said from behind her, a hand winding into her fur. Anya melted at the contact but didn’t turn to face him. Her eyes were still trained on Papa, praying he wasn’t afraid of her after what she did.
“Me neither…” Papa said, looking carefully at her. “She must really love her Dad.” Slowly, Papa reached out a hand for her to sniff, waiting for her to come close. Anya moved forward at the gesture, shoving into his hand, tail thumping at the familiar feel of his fingers scratching her ears.
“There’s my Anya…” Papa mused, letting out a sigh of relief. “My protective guard dog.”
Her brain clung to the praise, back leg thumping in glee. She was relieved too, happy that she had done good, that Papa wasn’t scared of her. She was just protecting Dad, someone she cared about. Of course Papa would understand.
She finally turned around to look at Dad at the thought, and found him looking at her with something soft in his face. It was the same look Papa gave her some times, when they cuddled on the couch together. It made her tail wag, braving a lick to his arm that he accepted.
“Thank you for protecting me, Anya,” Dad said to her, petting her gently, looking in her eyes. “You’re such a good girl.”
Anya couldn’t help another happy lick to Dad’s arm at the words, realizing this was the first time Dad had said that to her. It made her warm all over, made her curl deeper into his lap, needing to be close.
She realized, now Dad was more than just Papa’s person. He was one of hers now, too. Another person to protect and love in her pack. Papa shuffling even closer to them, the three of them cuddled on the floor together, only made that truth feel even more deep.
3 - Ilya + Shane (Pack)
Papa, Dad, and Anya were on a trip to the cottage, her favourite place in the world.
She loved it here. It smelled like trees and nature, and had a giant yard where she could run, and a big lake to swim in. That’s what she had hoped they would be doing their first day up. She had woken up that morning ready to go, staring out the window, waiting for the moment Papa or Dad said the word “swim” out loud.
Instead, they did something different. The pair of them put her in her special harness, the one she wore on runs with Dad, but both of them took her in the car instead of walking to the trail by the house. They drove for a while until coming to a stop in a new forest path, one that Dad had never brought to before.
She couldn’t wait to sniff their way through. This would almost be as fun as the lake.
Anya thought they would go running, because that’s what she and Dad did any time she wore the harness, but instead they were walking her together. Anya loved walks with Papa and Dad, but usually they were on sidewalks or in parks. Not in forests like this. Still, she followed along, pleased that Papa made the leash extra long so she could move to smell all the new smells she was finding.
Papa and Dad walked behind her talking, smelling sweaty and happy in a way that made her happy too. Anya was proud to be with her pack like this, to be close to them as they explored this beautiful new place.
Shortly into the walk they stopped for a break. Dad set up a little bowl of water for her and gave her treats. She let herself lie on their feet while Papa and Dad sat down to relax, chewing on a stick she found and not paying attention to their hushed words. At least, she was until she heard Dad say her name.
“-Anya will be safe?” Dad was asking Papa something about her. Papa nodded at him, before looking down at her.
“She is good girl, I do not think she will wander. Trail seems empty today so we should be okay.”
Anya wasn’t sure what Papa was talking about, but knew she was a good girl, so she wagged her tail. Dad laughed at the sight.
“Okay, let’s try it.”
When they started walking again, Papa reached for the leash on the back of her harness and took it off. Anya stood still at first, confused, as this was only ever something that happened at home when they got to the yard. Papa was looking at her with his serious face, but his eyes were still happy.
“Anya, we will let you off leash if you listen and do not run away…” Papa said, eyes locked on hers. “You can be good girl and stay close, yes?”
Anya let her tail wag again, the words good girl pinging through her brain on repeat. Of course she was going to be good and stay close. Why would she run away from the pack? She loved running and finding new smells, but not as much as she loved being with Dad and Papa.
Papa seemed to be able to read her mind, because he smiled and said “okay, go!” which Anya knew meant she was allowed to take off. She ran with a happy wag of her tail, a few feet ahead of them, ready to explore with her new freedom.
It made the walk even better. Dad and Papa were moving side by side just like before, only this time, Anya was free to weave between their legs, or pause to sniff something, or run ahead a little to make sure the coast was clear. Any time Papa called her name she went running right back to his side, and he would call her a good girl after and give her treats.
It really was the best walk ever. She wanted walks to be like this every time.
They continued like that for the next few minutes. Anya was sniffing along the trail, positive the smell she was currently latched on might lead to something tasty, when her nose found something else to fixate on.
Something bad.
She didn’t know how she knew this was a danger smell, but she did. Something in her instincts made her aware, body tensing as she breathed it in deeper. It was an animal smell, something sour and earthy that screamed predator. She knew whatever this creature was, she didn’t want to encounter it, which meant Dad and Papa shouldn’t either.
Her instincts prickled, something nervous pooling in her belly.
Threat detected. Find smell. Protect pack.
She let her nose follow the scent, tracking the path it made across the trail and into the forest. It got stronger the longer she went, making her move faster, nose locked to the ground. Before she could follow it to its end, though, Papa called her name. She reluctantly turned back to him, exiting the woods for the trail, right to Papa and Dad.
“You went far that time, Anya…” Papa spoke gently as he let her eat the treat from his hand. “Did you find something interesting?”
The reminder snapped her back to attention, eyes scanning the tree line. The threat was still out there. She couldn’t let herself get distracted, but even by Papa. She had to remain vigilant.
With a new awareness of her surroundings, Anya continued to walk with Dad and Papa, making sure she was at the front, still trying to find the source of the smell. The group was just coming up the crest of a small hill when her entire body stilled, tensing, so suddenly Papa and Dad stopped moving too.
Anya could smell it again, on the wind. The bad animal smell, closer than ever, sending her mind racing.
Alert. Threat. Danger.
Bad smell.
Must protect.
“Anya? What is it?” That was Papa’s voice, low and quiet. Dad and him were standing silent behind her, clued into her behaviour. She could sense their tension but couldn't pay attention to that, not now.
Danger, danger, danger… her instincts kept screaming, eyes scanning the perimeter as she crept forward. Smell is near. Don’t like it. Must protect pack.
Anya’s eyes were scanning the trees when she saw it.
It was a good distance away down the hill, to the right of the path, deep in the forest area which made it hard to see. But Anya had finally locked in on it now, the giant black creature, big and lumbering, with giant paws. It was standing up against a tree, its giant claws scratching and shredding it apart, it’s back to Anya and her pack. The bad smell was rolling off of it in waves as it worked, unaware that Anya was standing still and observing in the distance.
She growled, quiet, something instinctual she could not stop.
Do not come near my pack.
“Anya!” Papa said, voice too loud. She understood why. She had never growled before, had never had a reason too. But this was different. Anya didn’t turn around to look at him, was too busy looking at the creature, the creature that was too close to her and Papa and Dad. Her pack.
The creature still had its back to her. She growled again, low and menacing, slowly adjusting her body so she was stood firmly between her humans and the creature. She let her hackles raise, mouth twitching into a snarl as she braced herself. She was trembling, too, knowing that if this came to a fight she would surely lose, but she knew she had to try. She would do anything for her pack.
“Anya, what’s-” Dad was speaking in a whisper but then stopped with a hitched breath. “Ilya, holy shit, she’s looking at a bear!”
So that’s what the creature was called. She could feel Dad and Papa's fear, could hear the spike in both of their heartbeats behind her, but didn’t turn around to comfort them. She was dedicated to her stance, feet planted, looking at the bear.
The bear paused its scratching, thudding back to the ground on all fours. It still hadn’t turned around, and seemed to be staring out in the distance in the opposite direction. Anya let out the quietest bark she could, a small little boof, her instincts screaming at her to be louder. She was trying to resist the urge, knowing Papa and Dad didn’t love barking.
“Anya, quiet.” Papa’s voice was the most stern she had ever heard it, with an edge of fear under it. A tone so worried Anya finally broke her staring to turn and look back at him, easing her stance, praying her pack would keep watch while she turned her eyes away.
Papa and Dad stood side by side. Dad had his hand on Papa’s shoulder, his eyes still on the bear. Papa’s eyes were on Anya.
“Anya, come.” Papa spoke again, voice a shaky whisper this time. “Please.”
Anya moved over quickly, sitting at his feet. She could hear Papa let out a shaky exhale as she did, clearly relieved.
“It hasn’t seen us. We’re turning around.” Dad was whispering now, voice low. At his words Papa wordlessly leant down to pick Anya up, scooping her in his arms, shushing her even though she made no sound. She let him hold her, loosening the tension in her body just enough to fold in his arms. Papa was tense around her, heart jackhammering under her, as he started to turn around.
Anya was still alert, keeping her face over his shoulder, trained on the bear as her humans made their way back the way they came. Once they were far enough away that Anya couldn’t see the creature, Papa started moving faster, Dad right beside him, neither of them speaking as they jogged. Papa held Anya the entire way, and Dad held some kind of smelly metal can in his hand he kept a tight grip on.
Anya could tell they were scared, her entire pack on high alert, but they didn’t need to be. Once there was a good amount of distance between them and the creature thanks to their speed, the horrible scent of it gone, she knew they were safe. Still, Papa and Dad ran through the woods, going faster the farther they went, pushing closer and closer to the smell of cars.
When they finally got back to their own vehicle Dad and Papa immediately climbed in, slamming the doors shut. They didn’t even put Anya in her special dog seat in the back. Papa kept Anya in his lap in the passenger seat while Dad climbed into the seat behind the wheel. For a second the three of them just breathed, Papa and Dad panting harder than Anya after a big run, both of their heartbeats going wild.
Then Papa was laughing, shaking his head.
“Holy shit,” Papa said, looking over at Dad. “We actually saw a bear. On our first family hike.”
“That was terrifying,” Dad let out with a huff of breath, leaning over to squeeze Papa’s shoulder. “I don’t know if we would’ve noticed it that early if not for Anya.”
Both of Anya’s humans were looking down at her now, with something warm and fond in their faces. It made her wiggle in Papa's lap.
“Our little protector,” Papa cooed, scratching her face with his hands in the way that made her melt. “What would we do without you?”
Anya let her tail thump against the seat, leaning further into Papa’s scratches.
“She really saved us back there,” Dad added, reaching over from his seat to rub her back, a welcome addition to the face scratches. “And she was so good too. Listened so well, let us get out of there nice and quiet. She really is a good girl.”
Anya let that praise loop through her, tail thumping against the seat.
Good girl, good girl, good girl…
4 - Yuna & David (Grandma & Grandpa)
“Are you excited to see grandma and grandpa?” Papa was talking to Anya in his silly voice, the one that always made her feel extra wiggly. Her tail was going a mile a minute from her place in the backseat as the words Grandma and Grandpa registered in her brain.
Yes, yes, yes, yes! Her brain thought, turning away from Papa to look frantically out the window, realizing where they had arrived. Grandma and Grandpa are the best!
Anya loved Grandma and Grandpa. She loved visiting their house with Dad and Papa, and especially loved when she got to sleep there instead of the dog hotel. They had a great sunny spot by the living room couch, and yummy treats in the kitchen, and Grandpa always gave her the best belly rubs on earth. Maybe as good as Papa’s.
Now that she was thoroughly excited, Papa and Dad let her out of the car so she could run the familiar path to the front door, sitting patient, waiting for her pack to catch up. Papa and Dad took their time, but soon enough they were next to her, and the door was opening, and Grandma and Grandpa were there.
“Hello, sweet girl!” Grandpa said first as she wiggled her way closer, begging for pets. He gave them gladly, scratching her back as the group made their way inside. Anya abandoned her pets to do a quick tour of the house once they did, finding familiar smells, making sure everything was safe before returning to the kitchen. There she found her humans starting to prepare people food for dinner.
Anya watched them from her favourite spot, a dog bed in the kitchen Grandma got her the very first time she visited. She really loved getting to watch the four of them be together. Grandma and Grandpa were the next best members of Anya's pack, her favourite's after Papa and Dad. The pair of them were nice and smelled familiar, kind of like Dad, which made her know they were important. Anya was quickly learning the people important to Dad and Papa were important to her too. She loved who they loved, simple as that.
Right now, Dad and Grandpa were talking. Whatever the subject was, it was making Papa excited.
“You seriously still have that?” Dad was saying, his eyes wide. Grandpa was laughing from his place by the sink, where he was rinsing vegetables.
“Of course I kept the magic stick!” Grandpa said with a smile. Dad was blushing now, which Papa noticed from his place beside him.
“Sorry, the what?” Papa said, looking curiously at Dad. Dad wouldn’t meet his eye, which made Anya tilt her head.
Huh. Weird. She didn’t understand why Dad was acting so shy. Usually he and Papa were never not staring at each other.
“The magic stick,” Grandma spoke up from her place across the kitchen, where she was stirring something on the stove. “It’s Shane’s lucky hockey stick. He used it in his first season as a kid, even won his first game with it, and insisted it was lucky. When he outgrew it and couldn’t play with it anymore, he would touch it before every game.”
The room was quiet for a minute. Dad was more quiet than Anya had ever seen him.
“Every game, huh?” Papa said, looking up at Dad, barely containing his laughter. Dad looked squirmy now, shifting from foot to foot.
“We’d even take it on the road to tournaments,” Grandpa added, looking between them. Dad looked mortified, and Papa laughed even louder.
“So this is key to Stanley Cup success?” Papa said, poking dad in the side. “The magic stick?”
“I stopped touching it after I got drafted…” Dad mumbled, voice embarrassed.
“Not true. You touched it before you flew out for your first Stanley Cup final,” Yuna added, smirking. “Don’t forget.”
Papa looked at Dad with a smirk. “Really?”
“I needed all the luck I could get!” Dad protested loudly. Papa laughed out loud, grabbing Dad around his waist, kissing his temple.
“I need to see this magic stick,” Papa said, voice fond. Grandpa smiled when he said it, looking up at the pair of them.
“Let me get it,” he said, moving to dry his hands. “It’s in the garage out back.” Grandpa was moving toward the backyard doors, an action that made Anya perk up. Whenever Anya was here for sleepovers alone, she and Grandpa always went in the backyard together. He liked to water flowers and fix things while Anya ran laps and chewed sticks.
She definitely wanted to visit the backyard with Grandpa. As he approached the back door she went too, trotting to sit by his feet. Grandpa smiled down at her, before turning back to look at Papa and Dad in the kitchen.
“Can she come with me?” He asked, pointing down towards her. Anya’s tail started wagging as Papa nodded, an easy “sure” falling out of his mouth that Grandpa smiled at. With that Grandpa was opening the door and the two of them were outside on the deck.
Finally, freedom.
Anya let herself enjoy the breeze, sniffing the air, taking in the familiar smells of grass, and trees, and the house behind her. Then she took off, faster than Grandpa, moving down the short stairs to the yard and taking a quick lap as Grandpa laughed and moved to follow her. Once Grandpa made it to the grass he started walking towards the back corner of the yard. Anya took some time to sniff around and was just starting to look around for a new stick to chew on when she heard her name.
“Anya!” Grandpa was calling to her. She abandoned her search and made her way over to where he was. He was by the weird metal structure she had only ever sniffed the outside of, the one in the back corner of the yard by the gate. She had always avoided it, finding it off putting.
For the first time in Anya’s memory the structure’s door was open, Grandpa standing outside of it.
“There you are,” Grandpa said, moving to step inside. “Want to help me find the magic stick?”
Anya did really love sticks, the word usually enough to send her tail going a mile a minute, but she still found herself pausing. She was unsure of the building in front of her that he was walking inside of, something about it giving her pause.
Bad, scary, bad, don’t go, danger, scary, her instincts screamed as she poked her head inside. The space was familiar in a bad way. Grey and dusty, filled with boxes and old smells that made her want to cower. It took her right back to her puppy days, to the place she slept in outside when she lived with The Man. This space was a bit bigger, taller and cleaner, but just as cold, enough to make her take a wary step back.
She was too afraid to follow Grandpa inside. Thankfully, she could see Grandpa through the open door where she was standing. She elected to stay outside instead, lying in the grass to keep watch. She could keep him safe from out here, and make sure no one trapped him in the scary garage so they would both make it back to the house.
“Thanks for being my supervisor for the day,” Grandpa said to her from the doorway, holding some big tall thing that he put in the middle of the room. It looked like stairs. He put it next to a wall covered in boxes and tools and at the very top near the ceiling, sticks. They looked familiar, like the one’s Papa and Dad had in the garage that she was forbidden from chewing. Anya figured it must mean they were special sticks for humans.
Grandpa seemed to want one of these special human sticks. She watched as he started climbing the stairs he placed in the middle of the room. His first step made the entire staircase shake and wobble, which made Anya tense.
Danger. Her mind supplied as she watched him. Not right. Grandpa shouldn’t be on this thing.
She couldn't help but whine as he climbed higher, the ladder shaking with each step. Grandpa didn’t stop moving, though, was still climbing despite the unstable structure.
“Easy, girl, I’m okay.” Grandpa was trying to soothe her as he got farther and farther from the ground. He was at the top now, the stairs still shaking. He reached toward the wall, moving to grab one of the special sticks. His hand was just about to grab it, when everything shifted.
Suddenly, the shaky stairs were wobbling hard. And then, they were falling, tilting sharply to the side.
Anya found herself jumping back in fear as the stairs hit the floor, the impact causing a loud bang that echoed through the backyard. Grandpa fell with them, hitting his head on a work table on the way down. He lay on the ground once he landed with a thud, letting out a loud groan, and then, silence.
After all that chaos, it was way too quiet.
Anya stood still in front of the open door, shaking, terrified as she looked at Grandpa. She whined as she stared at him, positive the noise would wake him up from his sleep, but he didn’t respond.
That made her tummy flip.
Something is wrong… her brain supplied as she looked at him, starting to sniff tentatively. Grandpa is hurt.
Anya realized as scared as she was, she was going to have to go into the scary room to make sure he was okay. Though her full body was trembling at the thought, she made her way slowly inside, tentatively leaving the grass outside for the cold concrete, until she was next to Grandpa's still body.
She nudged his face with her nose but he didn’t react. She could hear his heart beat, but it was fast, and he smelled wrong, sweaty and hurt. She could smell something new, too, tangy and rusty that made her nose scrunch up in overwhelm.
Big hurt… her mind supplied as she took the scent in. This is bad. She kept sniffing, finding the source, some kind of liquid under Grandpa's head that she pushed her snout into.
It made her instincts scream, positive now that Grandpa was hurt badly.
Anya snapped her head up, whining again, her loudest yet. It still didn’t wake Grandpa. She started nudging him, over and over with her nose, but he didn’t move no matter how hard she tried.
Be louder… her brain supplied. Bark. Wake him up.
Anya braved it, a rare sound for her still. It came out of her high pitched and sharp. He still didn’t open his eyes, never lifted his hands. The pool of dark liquid was getting bigger now, and the sick smell Grandpa had was getting worse. She didn’t know what to do. Grandpa was really hurt, in a way she couldn’t fix.
Pack. Her mind finally supplied, the idea hitting her like lightning. Find pack for help.
Anya ran out of the garage, racing back into the backyard and up the deck stairs. She scrambled as she approached the closed glass door, jumping up and scratching for attention, hoping Papa and Dad would realize how bad she needed them.
When they didn’t come fast enough, she started barking again, her entire body shaking. Once she started she struggled to stop, the panic taking over, barking over and over at the closed door until she finally heard footsteps. Papa and Dad were opening the back door, their faces shocked.
“Anya?” Papa sounded confused as he said her name, walking out onto the deck. He leaned down to grab her but she didn’t let him, running down the steps, turning and barking again at them from the grass.
Chase me… she thought desperately. Follow me. Find Grandpa.
“What is it?” Grandma’s voice was here now too, her head peeking out the door behind Papa and Dad. Anya whined, barking at her humans who were standing on the deck, watching her circling in place on the grass.
“She never barks…” Papa was saying, looking at her curiously, his head titled. Dad came to stand beside him, eyes narrowed.
“Wait, what’s on her face…” Dad said, walking down the steps to move closer to her. Papa was close behind. Anya backed up as they did, still barking, repeatedly turning towards the garage and back to them.
Follow me… she tried to beg with her eyes, looking at Dad. Please. Follow me. Please.
She knew she had got it when Dad’s eyes finally widened.
“Is that… oh my God, Dad!”
The second Dad said it Anya ran to the garage, knowing his panic meant he understood. She could hear her pack behind her, heart pounding as all three of them ran, Anya finally leading them to the danger.
As soon as they got to the place where Grandpa was Papa and Dad skidded to a halt in the doorway. Dad let out a terrible noise, shoving his way inside and sinking to his knees.
“Oh my God, David!” That was Grandma, who was pushing past Papa to join Dad in the room. Papa stood in the doorway watching Grandpa’s body on the ground, frozen in place like Anya had been when Grandpa first fell. His heart was beating fast, the fastest of the group, his entire body locked and tense.
“He’s breathing…” Dad was speaking frantically, tears rolling down his face as he looked over Grandpa. Then he looked up at Papa, who was still standing in silence, face blank. “Ilya, please, call 911!”
The next moments were a stressful blur. Anya kept a vigilant watch outside the garage with Papa, as Grandma and Dad looked after Grandpa. Papa stood outside with a hand gripping tight in her fur as he spoke into the phone. He held her even close when big cars with flashing lights showed up, and a bunch of new strangers poured into the backyard.
She watched, tense in Papa’s arms as the strangers went into the room with Grandpa. She had to resist the urge to growl at first, but when Dad let them in she pulled back. She decided if Dad trusted them with Grandpa, she could too.
Shortly after that, the strangers were carrying Grandpa out of the strange room, putting him inside a big white car that Grandma got into with them. Then Papa and Dad got into their own car with Anya in the backseat, following behind them.
The car Grandpa was in had bright flashing lights and made a great howling sound as it moved through the streets. Anya resisted the urge to match it with a howl of her own as they followed it, Papa driving while Dad sat in the passenger seat. She wished she could be up front to snuggle the sick, anxious smell off of both of them, especially off of Dad, who was crying and letting out sounds that made Anya want to whine in return.
My pack is hurt…. She couldn’t help but fixate on it, eyes flickering from the lights, to her Papa, to Dad. Grandpa hurt. Everyone scared. Need Grandpa back.
Eventually, the big loud car with Grandpa in it pulled away from them. Papa drove down a different road, stopping in front of a big, bright building. Dad turned to Papa once he did, wiping the wetness off his face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad said, and Papa was nodding.
“Shane, yes. I take Anya home, get us a change of clothes. Get things for Yuna and David. And then I come back to hospital.”
The two of them were quiet for a moment, Dad holding Papa’s hand.
“I don’t want to leave you alone…” Dad said in a whisper. “Not after… seeing that.”
Papa got really still. Anya could smell a familiar smell on him, the sick sad one from Papa’s bad days. She whined, shuffling her body in the backseat, wanting to crawl closer. Papa blinked and turned to her.
“I am okay, Shane, I promise.” Papa’s voice was rough, emotional, looking between her and Dad. “Plus, I am not alone. I will have Anya almost the whole time. Our good girl.”
That made her tail thump with a wag despite herself. Papa and Dad both turned to look at the sound, their faces finally looking something other than devastated.
“The best girl,” Dad said as he looked at her, teary eyed. Then he was moving, getting out of the car and opening the backseat. He reached across the seats to drag her to his chest. She settled into the contact immediately, pleased to finally be close, relieved she could finally snuggle some of the sad scent off of him. Papa was watching from the front seat, his face now wet too.
“You probably saved his life tonight,” Dad was whispering to Anya, prompting her to look away from Papa. Dad was looking at her, petting her behind her ears, his eyes crying. “You really are such a good girl, Anya.”
Anya let that praise wash over her, licking the salty wetness off Dad’s cheek before he could protest.
I’m a good girl… she let it calm her. I did good.
After that Dad let Anya go, moving back to the front of the car to give Papa a similar hug. Then Dad was leaving, waving goodbye and walking into the big white building, leaving Anya and Papa alone in the car. Papa urged Anya to crawl to the now empty front seat and proceeded to drive home with one hand on the wheel, another in the fur on her back.
Time got kind of blurry after that.
When Anya and Papa first got home after saying bye to Dad, Papa had held her close and cried harder than she had ever seen him before. She did everything she could for him, using all her best tricks from the Papa Bad Day manual. She lay heavy on his chest, prompting him to keep his hands petting her, licking his face and hands anytime his breathing got too fast.
The crying lasted a long time. Anya was positive Papa would have a big sleep after, but instead he got up, let her outside and fed her dinner, packed a bag with things, and promised Anya he’d be home later.
After that she was alone for the night. Papa and Dad came home early next morning, exhausted and in need of her cuddles. Slowly, Anya worked to help her pack get better, giving them extra kisses all week, crawling onto their laps any time either of them started smelling too sad.
It did work, and as the week went on, Papa and Dad seemed to improve. She was happy about it, relieved they were finally starting to spend their days happy and smiling again. But Anya couldn’t deny an undercurrent of stress she still carried. A worry she couldn’t let go of, that sometimes plagued her dreams.
Her worries about Grandpa.
She didn’t know what happened to him, after he got hurt. Was he still hurt now? Did he get better? Was he back at Grandma and Grandpa's house? Would Anya ever see him again?
Another week later, she finally got her answer.
It was her first time in the car, since the day Grandpa got hurt. Papa and Dad didn’t say where they were going, just asked if she was ready for a car ride and strapped her in the backseat. As the drive went on she thought she recognized some familiar signs. It wasn’t until they were turning on a familiar suburban street that her tail started wagging, the recognition clicking in.
Grandma and Grandpa!
As her tail thumped against the car door she heard Papa giggle, turning to look at her.
“Someone knows where we are…” Papa said fondly, reaching back to scratch the top of her head. Anya had never been more excited to see Grandma and Grandpa, but especially Grandpa. She was shaking with it, her whole body trembling as they parked in the driveway, barely unable to contain herself when Dad opened the back door.
She rushed to the front door that was already open, uncharacteristically ignoring Grandma who was standing in front of it, dashing past her. Anya was of a one-track mind, knowing who she needed to see. She barreled into the living room, hearing Papa and Dad’s voices behind her telling her to slow down. She ignored them, following her nose until a sight on the couch made her skid to a stop.
It was Grandpa.
He looked weathered. Tired. A little smaller than he had last time, a little too still where he sat on the couch. He smelled different too, the faintest hint of injury, soft and fragile, lingering underneath his usual scent.
Grandpa's home… her brain thought, the relief settling into her bones regardless of her concerns. Grandpa is here. Grandpa is alive.
If it were any other visit she’d be tempted to jump up on the couch, to crawl into his lap and lick his face, letting every ounce of her excitement over him being okay out into the open. She hesitated, though, instincts hyper aware that he may be home, but he wasn’t okay yet.
Gentle… her brain supplied for her, as she got closer to the couch. Close, but gentle.
Behind her, she could hear the rest of the pack catching up. Dad and Papa had run over to the living room, Grandma behind them, their voices muttering about her being too fast. They arrived to the sight of Anya standing still in front of Grandpa, wagging her tail.
“There she is,” Grandpa spoke before anyone else could, voice quiet and raspy, looking right at Anya. “I missed you, Anya.”
At the sound of her name, Anya jumped up on the couch beside Grandpa. Dad was saying “Anya, gentle!” as she did, but she didn’t need the warning. She moved slowly, keeping her body as still as possible as she leaned in for a closer look. She started sniffing, his lap, his chest, his head, satisfied that he smelled mostly like himself, that the tangy, rusty smell from last time gone. Grandpa was smiling at her as she investigated, reaching up a shaky hand to pet her.
“I hear I have you to thank for saving me,” Grandpa said, his shaky hand now stroking the top of her head. Anya tilted her head into it, tail thumping, her body shaking in excitement.
She held herself back, knowing it was important to be gentle, but she just couldn’t help it. She was happy that he was okay, that she had helped to fix the hurt. She couldn't resist nudging her face forward to lick his chin, which made him laugh. Then she braved getting closer, gently curling on top of his lap, warmth spreading through her the second her weight was against him.
Looking out at the living room from her new resting place, she could see the rest of her pack was watching. Dad and Papa were looking misty eyed in the doorway, and Grandma had her phone out, smiling.
“Good girl, Anya,” Grandpa said again, scratching her ears, making her pleased.
This was what she had been needing. To know Grandpa was here. That she had been a good girl. That her pack was safe.
For the first time since Grandpa fell, she was fully content.
5- Hayden Pike’s Children (The Tiny Humans)
Anya always knew she was in for a fun day when she heard the name “Pike.” He lived in the place she called the Tiny Human House, a home with a big backyard, and tons of new smells, and most fun of all to Anya, four Tiny Humans.
Anya loved the Tiny Humans. They were cute, and soft, and never seemed to tire of petting her the way adults did. They never got sick of throwing her ball, and loved the game Chase, and frequently dropped pieces of human food on the floor that she could snatch up without getting in trouble.
They were the best.
Today's visit to the Tiny Human House was like their usual ones, with backyard playtime and a big family dinner at the dining table she could hide under. They were doing the outside playtime now, all of them playing some kind of game with a ball that they kicked with their feet. Anya would join in every once in a while, taking breaks every few minutes from her walk of the perimeter to keep them herded together.
She was watching the bigger of the Tiny Human’s kick the ball back and forth when she noticed something. It was one one of her favourite humans, Pike’s smallest one, walking away from the group. The adults hadn't noticed, too focused on the ball game to see she had lost interest and walked away. The tiny wanderer was moving close to the gate, a gate that was still open towards the front yard from when they had arrived.
Danger… Anya’s brain screamed. Must protect.
Anya's instincts were telling her to keep the Tiny Human safe in the backyard, looking to the group for back up. No one had looked over yet, still laughing and playing, and the Tiny Human was moving fast. Anya was just going to have to protect her, herself and herd her back to safety. How hard could it be?
Turns out, pretty hard.
No matter how hard Anya tried, the tiny human seemed determined to move closer to the gate. She was smiling, giggling, as Anya followed and bumped into her to cut her off, blocking her path with her body. She let the Tiny Human pinch her fur on her back to keep herself upright, a worthy price to pay if it meant keeping her safe. She was just wondering about how to gently shove her back to the group when something made her ears twitch towards the gate.
She could hear a sound. A new sound, in the distance. It was a deep, low growl, menacing and intentionally quiet.
What is that…. Anya was frozen in place, instincts on high alert as she looked for the source. A scent on the wind drifted in from somewhere in the front yard, that made her head snap towards it. Only then could she finally see what she was looking for.
It was a dog.
A big dog.
He was standing across the street, a tall, giant body, poised in wait, its eyes fixed in Anya’s direction. But his attention wasn’t locked on Anya, she wasn’t the target he was sizing up.
It was the Tiny Human, clinging to her back.
Before Anya could formulate a plan, the big dog was moving.
He was running fast, too fast, barreling his way over with a rumbling growl in its chest. Anya could see its jowls rearing back, could hear its heart beat, saw the intent to hurt the Tiny Human with every step he took.
Anya reacted without thinking.
As the big dog approached Anya shoved the Tiny Human down, so hard she she fell to the grass with a thump and let out a sharp cry. Anya positioned herself over top of her, legs braced over her torso, facing the other dog with a snarl.
Fight, defend, protect… Anya thought as she pushed forward, trying to meet his lunging bite head on, hoping to take the blow.
She let out a yelp as she did, his teeth managing to catch a tuft of her fur, her own teeth snapping beside his face. It surprised him enough to jerk back a few feet, looking at Anya where she stood.
You will not touch her…. Anya thought, still braced over the Tiny Human, eyes locked on her target as she groweld. You don’t get to hurt my pack.
The Tiny Human was screaming. The big dog was snarling, poised to lunge again. Anya was snarling too, louder than ever.
She could also hear her humans behind her, the commotion finally catching their attention. She heard someone screaming, Papa and Dad yelling her name, the sound of multiple sets of footsteps running closer. The Tiny Human was wiggling from where she was pinned under Anya, managing to get free.
The big dog lunged for her the second she did. Anya followed him, refusing to let him hit his target.
Her small size was an advantage, catching him off guard. She managed to cut him off by going for his torso, using enough speed to actually push him back and away as he lunged. He snarled as she did, missing his bite, repositioning himself and jumping at her this time. She ducked out of the way, snapping back at him, praying the Tiny Human had gotten somewhere safe as she committed to the fight. She was locked in now, with one single thought driving her forward:
I will protect what’s mine.
Now it was a tussle of fur and teeth, scratching paws and snarls, as Anya fought to keep him away from her humans. She managed to duck and weave his large bites, his teeth only ever pulling out tufts of her fur as they snapped and circled each other. She tried her best to herd him towards the gate, needing him out of the backyard, out of this space, away from her pack.
When they had managed to wrestle their way close to the threshold she felt a looming presence at her back.
“Enough, get back!” It was Papa, yelling, moving to get between her and the big dog. Papa’s presence worked to break up the tumble they were in, intimidating the other dog enough to shove him off of her and to the other side of the gate. Papa slammed it in front of him the second he was there, leaving Anya and Papa safe on the other side.
Even with the barrier, Anya hadn’t given up the fight. Her eyes remained locked on target, staring at the other dog through the barrier between them, barking loud and mean.
This is my yard. My pack. My people. She stared the other dog down as she made her point known, watching as he barked just as loud back, stalking back and forth. She only stopped when she felt Papa’s hand tugging her harness, pulling her back. Pike was walking towards the gate now, yelling at a new human who was approaching on the other side.
“Control your fucking dog man!” Pike looked angry, vicious, like Anya felt moments ago. “He almost killed my fucking kid. I should report you!”
Anya watched from her spot behind the gate as Pike and the stranger yelled, the big dog getting attached to the stranger's leash as they did. She wanted to keep watching, was tempted to growl again, when she felt Papa scoop her up. The action startled her enough to flinch in confusion, body still wrought with adrenaline.
“Anya, my beautiful princess, my strong, brave protector, are you alright my darling?” Papa was whispering to her in the special language he spoke sometimes, eyes frantic as he looked her over. He sat down when they were a few feet away from the fence, Papa moving so she was in his lap on the grass. Then his hands started touching her all over, looking at her limbs, her paws, her face.
He’s making sure you’re not hurt… Anya’s brain supplied, insides warming. She was wiggling in Papa’s lap now, jumping up to lick his face, pleased by his affection. It seemed to relax him, his frantic searching stopping as he let out a shaky breath.
“Holy shit that was crazy.” That was Pike, back from the fence. Dad was running up beside him, kneeling down next to Papa on the ground. They were surrounded by grass and tufts of fur, remnants from the fight.
“Is Anya hurt?” Dad was touching Anya too, looking her over the same way Papa had. It made Anya even more thrilled, body wiggling in happiness even harder.
“I don't think so, I don’t see anything. Just lost fur…” Papa was looking at the ground around them, before looking back up at Dad and Pike. “What about Amber?”
“She’s okay,” Dad said, a hand leaving Anya so he could run it through his hair. “Terrified, obviously, but not physically hurt. Anya saved her.”
The three of them were quiet, just looking at Anya where she was still sitting in Papa’s lap. The attention had her thumping her tail, hoping the looks on their face might mean more pets.
“Is it too soon to say it was kind of amazing to watch?” Pike said. His words made Papa snort.
“That dog was like three times her size,” Dad said, voice amazed. “And she fought it anyway, no hesitation.”
“Is cause she is such a good girl…” Papa’s voice was proud, smiling down at her and petting her back. “The best girl. Our little protector, saving us again.”
Anya preened under the praise, licking Papa’s chin. She let herself melt into his pets, until a noise pulled her attention. A loud cry, from a human she had been protectively braced over just moments before.
She wiggled out of Papa’s lap, listening to him yell, “hey, where are you going” as she followed the sound. Quickly, she was able to locate the Tiny Human, sitting on her mother’s lap on the outdoor couch on the deck, tears running down her face. The Tiny Human’s eyes locked on to Anya when she stopped in front of her, her loud crying stopping.
For a moment, Anya stared and assessed. She didn’t see any injury, besides how upset the Tiny Human looked. Couldn't smell anything bad from here. She needed to get closer to confirm, but didn’t want to scare her.
“You making sure she’s okay?” Papa’s voice was speaking from somewhere behind her, clearing having caught up.
Anya ignored him for now, too focused on the task at hand. Seeing that the Tiny Human wasn’t afraid, Anya approached gently, body crouched low in submission as she did. When she got closer the Tiny Human shifted in her mother’s lap, trying to touch, which Anya took as a good sign.
When Anya was close enough, she started sniffing her all over. She was looking for signs of injury, of hurt, of the other dog leaving his mark on her. Thankfully the Tiny Human just smelled like she always did, maybe a little more sweaty, a little more scared, but not hurt. The Tiny Human wiggled as Anya completed her inspection, giggling when Anya got to sniffing her face, full on laughing when she went particularly hard on the top of her head. The big humans were laughing too, watching the pair of them, though Anya didn’t get what was so amusing.
This was a very serious inspection.
When she was finally satisfied, confident there were no injuries she was going to discover, she gave the Tiny Human a lick on her cheek. Then Anya sat on the ground in front of her, settling on top of her mother’s feet, surveying the surrounding yard.
Better to be close, just in case.
“Good girl, Anya,” Papa said, smiling proudly, looking down at her. Anya let herself preen under the praise.
6 - Anya Gets Protected (Fireworks)
Tonight was Anya’s favourite kind of night. The kind where Papa and Dad stayed up extra late, snuggled on the couch with Anya between them, talking with the TV on. They had been on the couch for over an hour now, Anya ready to firmly fall asleep, when Papa sat up and turned it off.
“Is nearly time,” he said, turning to Dad. His voice roused Anya who blinked open her eyes to stare at them. “Anya, you want to come to backyard?”
Anya felt her tail start to wag, her mind waking up. She always loved the backyard. Loved it even more at night, when there were sometimes new creatures to chase, new fresh scent trails to find. She got up from her spot between them and dashed to sit politely beside the back door, making Dad and Papa laugh behind her.
Papa let them all out, the three of them standing in the cool night air. Papa and Dad were standing on the deck, Anya on the grass a few short steps away. She took a break from sniffing at the ground to notice they both seemed to be looking up at the sky. Anya followed their gaze, wondering if there was a bird they noticed, maybe a squirrel in the trees.
That’s when it happened.
Anya didn’t understand what she was seeing. The dark nighttime sky was suddenly filled with light, brilliant and bright, like stars that were bigger than the moon. They exploded before her eyes, causing her to pause in awe and terror, before the sound hit with a bang.
It was the loudest sound she had ever heard in her life.
DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.
The noise seemed to fill the sky, shaking her bones. The air smelled like fire, like something she needed to run away from. Her entire body cowered on instinct, flinching low to the ground, ducking out of the way from whatever might be coming. She let out a loud, startled bark as she did, unsure what to do, how to escape.
“Oh my goodness, Anya,” Papa’s voice said. Anya tried to turn to look at him, but then it happened again. More lights, filling the sky. More explosions. More banging, fizzing noises that filled the air in a never ending parade around her, that made her insides cower in fear.
She couldn’t control her trembling, couldn’t stop herself from acting on instinct. She was bolting, so fast she could feel the grass ripping up under her nails, a series of startled, panicked whines escaping her. She could hear the explosive sounds getting louder, faster, as she made her way towards the house, running to the back door, needing to get away.
“Anya, wait!”
She didn’t stop to react to Papa's call. She moved so fast she ripped right through the screen door, unable to feel sorry, unable to stop moving. She could still hear the explosions, could hear Papa and Dad calling after her, but she ignored it all. She let fear guide her, moving her through the living room, up the stairs, as the sounds continued to shake the house around her.
Her paws carried her to the safest spot she could think of, Papa and Dad’s bedroom. But even here, she could still hear the noises that shook the sky. Could still see the flashing, colorful lights through the windows. When another explosion sounded through the walls, the loudest one yet, she ducked into their bathroom, needing more distance. The noises never stopped, a series of small booms following the first one, each sound making her heart clench in fear. The entire thing ended in a big snapping bang, so loud Anya’s entire body flinched.
Then she was peeing on the floor, unable to help herself.
Bad dog, bad dog, bad dog… Her brain repeated, whining out loud as she did. When she was done she crawled into the shower, as far back into the corner as she could, hoping to put as many walls between herself and the noises as possible.
Danger. Loud. Bad dog. Her brain ran through broken, frantic thoughts as she closed her eyes, breath coming in pants. Danger. Afraid. Bad dog.
Another boom sounded, more muffled now that she was in the shower, but still loud enough to make her tremble. She didn’t understand this type of threat. Didn’t know how to defend herself from something in the sky, something so loud it shook the ground. She was more afraid than she had even felt, flinching every time she heard another distant boom, shaking so hard her dog tags were rattling around her neck.
Then she heard something else. Loud, thumping footsteps approaching the room, voices calling her name.
“Anya? Where are you?” It was Dad, his call making her heart ache. She tried to make a sound, but could only manage a breathy little whine. The loud booms were still happening, leaving her cowering, wishing she could make the noises stop.
Then someone was entering the bathroom, a light turning on. Her eyes closed against it but she didn’t need to see to know who it was. She could smell Dad, the sharp scent of his sweat, panicked and stressed.
“Ilya, she’s in our bathroom!” Dad’s voice was loud and booming, making her flinch again. She heard his breath hitch.
“Sorry girl,” Dad said, quieter now. He moved to step deeper into the room, but his footsteps paused. “Did you have an accident, Anya?”
Anya whined, finally blinking her eyes open to meet his from her spot in the corner. Dad was standing in front of her accident, the puddle by the doorway. He didn’t look mad. He actually looked gentle, smiling at her.
“It’s okay,” Dad said, stepping around her mess. “It’s okay Anya, you’re okay. You’re still a good girl.”
Anya was almost comforted, until another loud boom sounded in the distance that made her tremble, whining, trying to squish herself impossibly deeper into the corner of the shower. She could hear more footsteps, and soon Papa was in the room, smelling even more stressed than Dad.
“Anya,” he said, relieved. Papa looked down at the accident but said nothing, stepping over it to get closer to her in the shower. He knelt outside of it, reaching a hand out, testing.
Papa. Pack. Safe. Her mind supplied, sniffing the air between them.
“Are you okay, sweet girl?” Papa was cooing at her, giving her space to reach out on her own. She could see Dad behind him, reaching under the counter to grab bottles, working to clean the mess she made.
The booms sounded once more and Anya found herself moving on instinct again, finally scrambling out of the shower and into Papa’s lap.
Safe, safe, safe, safe… Her brain was practically singing as his arms wrapped around her trembling body. She couldn’t help but whine as the loud sounds continued. Papa let out a sympathetic noise, hugging her close.
“I know, I’m so sorry, my brave girl. Fireworks are big and scary, yes? Papa will keep you safe.”
Papa will keep you safe. Her brain repeated, clinging to the words. Papa is safe. Pack is safe.
Papa shifted his hold around her, turning her so she was settled against his chest. Dad was coming closer too, having finished cleaning, kneeling next to them. He reached out gently to touch Anya’s trembling back, petting slowly. The added pressure helped, Anya letting out a deep breath, trying to snuggle deeper into Papa's arms.
Around them, more booms continued to sound. A series of quick, sharp bursts suddenly rang out, louder than the others. Anya whined, squirming in Papa’s arms with each snapping bang, instincts telling her to bolt. Papa didn’t let her, holding her closer, tightening his grip. It helped, though her breath was still coming in loud pants, her heart still racing way too fast in fear.
“She is terrified,” Papa’s voice sounded distressed, as he looked Anya over. “This is too much for her.”
“I’m texting Harris.” That was Dad, who was looking at his phone. “And Googling what to do. Maybe we should take her somewhere more comfy?
“Good idea,” Papa said, and then he was standing, Anya still in his arms. She let him move her, Papa carrying her to his bed, letting Anya sit on his lap in the sheets. Dad was walking around the room, covering the windows to make it dark. It worked to block out the bright, colorful lights, but Anya could still hear the booming explosions. She was trembling, flinching at each one.
Then Dad looked at his phone, before looking up at Papa.
“Harris said deep pressure helps. We can get her a weighted vest called a thunder vest for next time, but maybe my weighted blanket will work for now…” he was walking towards the closet as he spoke. “He also mentioned closing the blinds, and distracting her with treats. Covering her ears might work too, given how panicked she is right now.”
Immediately, Papa’s hands moved to Anya’s ears, pushing them down against her head. She squirmed at first, a little unsure of the pressure of it, not liking having one of her senses dampened. Now Dad’s voice sounded too muffled to understand, and so did Papa, even though he was holding her close.
With a start, Anya realized this meant the booming sounds were dampened too. It was a lot less terrifying now that they sounded distant, like footsteps far away in a house rather than horrifically oppressive sounds. Anya could already feel her muscles loosening, no longer bracing for impact at each explosion. She closed her eyes, letting out a stressed yawn, trying to shake some tension
Papa kept his hands firm over her ears the whole time, gently rubbing them in circles now. That made her sleepy, lying down in his lap.
Then she felt the bed dip. She could smell that Dad was back. She felt something go on top of her, something heavy and soft that made her exhale a huff of breath, the weight pushing her further into Papa. The heaviness felt good, like she was receiving a pet that never ended.
They stayed like that for some time together. Papa and Dad never left her side, standing guard over her in the bed as she calmed down.
Between the blanket and Papa’s hands on her ears, she let herself get lost in it. Succumbing to the deep steady pressure around her, finding comfort in the quiet after chaos, the smells of her pack, the knowledge that they were keeping watch. Anya was safe in the arms of her Papa, with her Dad by her side. Her two favourite people, who had made the scary things stop. Who had saved her.
She really was the luckiest girl in the world.
