Through His Eyes – Laura Clark

Through His Eyes

Glistening things decorate our home: strips of shiny foil drape the mantelpiece, flashing lights line the roof, and my favourites dangle on the fake tree. The smell of a large bird cooking floats into my nostrils. It’s being over-prepared by my person, Sarah.

Jingling sounds from the music box cause my ears to flutter. Sarah asks if I ‘like this one, Buddy?’ as she dances around. But it muffles exterior noises, impairing my audible guard of the house.

Sarah has forgotten about park time today. Park time is for off-leash bounding and investigating marks left by furry tree residents that smell better than old socks. Each visit, I’d greet fellow park visitors, especially spaghetti-eater Patches, the white Maltese. There’d often be something tasty stuck around his orange-stained mouth.

I loved listening to Sarah when she wasn’t tapping on her device. I’d pant up to her as she sat on the park bench, telling me about her goals and worries. Her tone of voice and the rhythm of her hands on my fur would change with each subject, allowing me to understand her meaning when I didn’t recognise all of her words.

But today, even though I’m sure it’s still a weekday, Sarah has stayed home. Without her attention, I head to the backyard and complete my typical duties. After checking the fence for trespassing crows, I lie belly up to collect the morning sun. It must be a special day; I hear Sarah’s device inside emitting noises like trapped birds.

She picks the device up and chirps into it, ‘Hey, Amanda.’

It warbles back.

She smiles. ‘All ready. I can’t wait for you to meet him.’

I roll over outside, grass cushioning my belly and tickling my paws. I give them a lick, tasting a dirt mix.

The bell from the front door bounces around the house.

Laura Clark My body wriggles, and I seize the new, soft, fake dog that Sarah gave me this morning. I’d quickly obliterated its odd paper wrapping and made it nice and damp with leisurely chewing over the course of the morning. I lift it between my teeth again now as I make my way inside. It pushes my lips up so guests will think they can snatch it.

‘Hello, darling,’ Amanda coos as she enters. Her slim face behind thick frames descends. She’s wearing an odd, red hat with a white ball on the end. Her hands are wonderfully friendly, and I topple a little.

As all the guests arrive, they chatter like the chickens next door, but Sarah’s distracted. ‘He’ll be here soon, you’ll love him,’ she tells Amanda.

A smile covers Sarah’s face as one more visitor creeps in. A disagreeable scent overwhelms me as his tall knees pass. He hands her a long bottle as he greets her with a brief touch of his lips to hers, and murmurs something into her head fur. ***

Sarah looks like she’s filled with fresh air.

My wagging tail interrupts them, but he doesn’t acknowledge me.

Guests finally begin eating the large, carved bird while I hold my backside to the floor like a good boy.

My nose stays on that bird, but out of the corner of my eye, I notice Amanda tipping on her chair towards the new man. I wonder why attention is not on me or on feasting.

The room laughs continuously with the new man they call Mike. ***

Mike is the last visitor at the gathering. He changes the music and lights a flame. ‘Rose fragrance,’ he grins.

The smell is fake.

‘Sit, boy,’ he tells me.

He dangles a piece of the bird on his fork near the back door. I run out to receive it, but turn around to a shut door in my face. I bark at him, feeling betrayed and hateful.

I grumble as he puts it into the silver container of what Sarah calls ‘rubbish’. Easing my head onto my paws, I fixate my eyes on the fool.

*** Sarah eventually leads him out the front door and I’m glad to see him leave. I wake in the backyard to Sarah yapping on her device. Sliding my paws forward and pushing my butt up into the breeze, a satisfying quiver climbs along the muscles in my back.

‘I’ll have to bring Buddy,’ she says. ‘It’s too late this time of year to book a kennel.’

*** The door of the moving kennel Sarah calls a ‘car’ opens and I shake off the ride. A large park dazzles me with all its scents. I pursue one across the field of grass and dirt to where Amanda and others play with bendy poles. I bounce to match their movements, but multiple voices scold me.

Thumping sounds lead me to another group of people where a car emits music and the fool, Mike, snickers with a fumy liquid in his hand. ‘I’m hoping she’ll sleep in my tent tonight, know what I mean?’

Sarah’s calls beckon me away from the river I've managed to find between the campsite and the huddled trees. After grabbing a modest branch that I’ve chewed to be comfortable for throwing, I find Sarah constructing makeshift shelters with the others.

I shake my body, letting out excess particles from my thick fur and initiating the drying process.

Everyone wails.

Mike jumbles with pieces of his shelter, too close to Sarah’s.

‘Having trouble there?’ she asks him, laughing.

‘Ugh,’ Amanda interrupts. ‘It stinks like dirt here and it’s all over my boots. Someone finish this for me?’

Mike gawks like an owl.

I approach to offer my services.

People relax by the hot flames set in the middle of the open campsite area, the makeshift shelters dotted around the outskirts. The loudening crowd gradually drown out the peaceful bush sounds.

I wander occasionally to relieve my ears. On my third return, I hear shouting: ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven…’

Everyone’s odours blend with the smoke and the fumes of liquids they’ve been guzzling all night as I search for Sarah.

‘Two, one…’

I finally spot her, and him, on the other side of the flames. Between each swig, Mike leans closer to her, skimming a hand up her legs as she tries to turn from his breath.

Bursting and whizzing sounds above interrupt me. Sparks of light swirl around like illuminated birds at war. But these are not any birds I know or would like to bark at.

My tail hides between my legs. I keep my head down, away from the terrifying war while I search to protect Sarah from both Mike and this sky.

I finally reach them, and launch towards the offender, Mike, pushing my front paws into his chest as hard as I can.

Mike and his liquid spill off the log.

I check Sarah with hurried licks.

‘I guess you’re the only man for me, Buddy.’ She kisses my head.

I lead her to Amanda. We’re welcomed with singing and embraces.

The sky is dark and still again. And I am with my person. I stand by, as I always will. 9