Mike Dillingham - Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers - The Adventures of Balto, Back of the Pack, Honor Bound, Rivers

What a strange human.

The man stood stretching to look into the dumpster, pulling out some boxes and paper. Robby was confused and curious at the same time. He walked over, sitting just behind the man, watching him tilting his head from side to side.

“Ha, a feast my boy, a feast!” the smelly man said, cheerfully climbing into the dumpster. Pulling scraps out of plastic bags, he tore them open greedily and licked his lips. There were half-eaten burgers, sandwiches, and French fries galore. The man piled them onto a broken, greasy plate, taking bites of his finds as he arranged them in an order on the discarded plate.

He sang cheerfully as he scrounged. Robby liked this man, but he confused Robby; he was eating dirty food. Nana had told him that humans couldn’t eat dirty food; it made them sick, made their bellies sour and death soon followed.

That’s why food on the floor was fair game, but food on the table was off limits. He had never seen a human eat out of the trash before. He wagged his tail; what a silly human he had found. Robby laughed a hearty whining laugh that made the man smile.

The man looked over at Robby, smiling broadly lighting up his dirty face. He began to toss over big homemade style fries, chicken scraps and soggy bread. It was a feast; never had he tasted such wonderful food! Both dirty and bone tired wanderers silently ate their plundered meals listening to the ravens bicker. Robby was very thankful for this man; the man in return seemed to like Robby’s company. With a satisfied sigh, the man climbed out of the dumpster and he rubbed his belly with a laugh.

“Some good eats, huh?” he chuckled as Robby burped smelling like onion rings and garlic bread. The man gathered up the boxes and paper he had taken out earlier and carried them into the thickest willows beyond the parking lot. He broke the boxes apart so they lay all flat as if ready to be made again. Then he crumpled the paper up, stuffing it inside his worn out pant legs. He pulled his dirty coat off, pulling a backpack off his back. Robby was shocked to see that the man was now half the size he was before. He watched perplexed now; watching this strange human.

The man pulled a worn but sturdy blanket out of the bag before shuffling through the other contents and setting the bag down. He put his coat on, stuffing more paper inside before zipping it up. He unfolded the blanket and laid down on the cardboard.

Was this where he was sleeping? Robby whined and looked about; he felt great concern for this human. He wondered if his family knew where he was. Was he lost like Robby was? The Miss had gone camping before, but she had a tent and sleeping bag. Robby laid down with his head between his paws and deep wrinkles marred his forehead as he looked on deep in thought.

Then he remembered. Nana said they were homeless. She said that humans needed a thing called money to live. They needed it to buy food, clothes, warmth, and shelter. And if they had none they had no home, no clothes, no warmth, and no food. Robby grew quiet and still. Nana said they died of hunger and cold just as animals did from time to time. No one was really nice to them and people made fun of them. The Miss had seen one and was sad. She had looked away just as confused as Robby was now. Nana said no one helped them, and they lived hard lives. No one even wanted to take them to the pound and find them a new home. Robby was so confused; he did not understand humans, but he knew the Miss.

Robby wished the Miss didn’t have to grow up in such a complex and horrible world. Now he knew why she hid with Nana and Robby in the woods when she was little. When the family yelled and fought, she would follow them to fancy little hideouts in the woods and hug them and hold them while she cried the bad smelling tears.

Robby knew people were cruel. He had been struck by man before for unknown reasons. This homeless man was nice even though he was treated so. Why was he not loved and cared for? At least someone could give him a tent and a sleeping bag. They throw half of their things away anyway. Couldn’t they give it to someone in dire need?

Like this man who shivered in the cold.

Robby huffed. The man had helped him, so he would help this man all he could. Robby walked over, nosed around and huddled up to the man. The man had shared his food; Robby would share his warmth as he did with the Miss when she hid outside in the forest with them.

“Thanks, mister,” the man whispered, petting Robby’s head with a shaky hand.

The man slept soundly all night warm for the first time in a long time thanks to this strange and wondrous dog that had appeared out of nowhere.

By the bright pink morning, Robby was gone. The man thought it to be an amazing, silly dream of a man too long at the edges of his wits. A dog had kept him warm — a golden one at that!

“Bah, a silly dream!” the man scoffed.

He was about to shake it off as just that, a dream, when he saw the golden fur that covered his blanket. He picked it off looking at it closely.

“An angel from heaven above. Thanks, mister.” The man smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept that well and had been so warm sleeping on the ground.

Robby felt stiff as he trotted through the dew-soaked grass that smelled horrible, like old tires and hot burn barrels. His belly rumbled despite last night’s feast, taking his attention away from the chill that the cold dew threw upon him.

The trail before him was parking lot after parking lot. Ravens and crows perched and watched him with greedy eyes from their perches on light poles and roof tops. Robby growled in their direction. The cursed, disease-ridden birds were scavengers and crooks. He had to tread carefully here in this cold hard city with those greedy little eyes watching him.

It was still early, so few humans were careening through the parking lots and he was grateful not to have to dodge cars in his sorry state. He was feeling his broken rib rub him raw from the inside out and it flared in pain. All he wanted to do was lie down and cry.

Random ill-willed people staggered alone whispering to themselves as he whined, marching on. He sniffed at the people he crossed paths with. They smelled normal but a sick taint was about them and their eyes were off in some distant place.

How Robby hated this place. He only hoped that he was going the right way. He had to be. He couldn’t afford to waste time; summer was almost over.

He had to keep going.

He had to make it through the mountains before the snow fell. Once the snow fell, he wouldn’t last long; the wolves would pick him off. He glanced at the sky, picking up his pace after seeing angry black clouds rolling in over the tops of the buildings that towered over the trees.

Robby’s head was filled with so much worry that he grew oblivious to the goings-on around him. Then he realized a car was following him as he skirted the edges of a parking lot through the grass. He stopped, looking back at it. He recognized it; it was what Nana had called The Man’s Law. It was a City of Anchorage police car, the lights on the roof told all. The human driving the machine was watching him.

Robby watched him closely. Nana had told him to never trust The Man’s Law. They had guns and sticks they could cruelly use on dogs for fun. They talked the Miss’s family sometimes; most of the humans belonging to The Man’s Law Pack were awful, had no honor and smelled twisted and angry. But few, a very few, smelled good and righteous; Robby had licked a few good hands in his short years.

Robby walked on, and the car slowly followed. This was not good. Robby began to look for a good route across the four lanes of traffic that was coming up. The car still followed as he nervously trotted toward a group of people. Nana and the Miss taught him about street lights when they had taken trips to town. They would walk on the sunny side walks and catch the salty smell of the sea in the breeze. He learned to walk only when the people walked; that was the only safe time.