A Dog’s Journey by W. Bruce Cameron

toward me, and when they were directly overhead I barked as loudly as I could. Someone was in the basement.
    I thought it might be Clarity, but then I heard something strange: a human yowling, somewhere between crying and wailing. It was an awful noise, a noise of pain and perhaps fear. What was happening? I stopped barking, a little afraid. A strong scent—flowery, oily, and musky—flowed into my space from behind the boxes.
    Overhead I heard the front door open and shut. There were footsteps and then I sensed someone else standing up at the top of the stairs.
    “Gloria? Are you down there?” It was Clarity.
    Still the mournful wailing continued. I was silent—no human had ever made a sound like that in my whole life.
    Footsteps came rattling down the stairs. “Gloria?” Clarity’s voice called.
    There was a loud scream—“ Ahhhhh! ” I recognized Gloria.
    Clarity screamed, too. “Aghhhh!”
    I whimpered—what was happening?
    “Clarity June, you scared me to death!” Gloria panted.
    “Why didn’t you answer? What were you doing?” Clarity asked.
    “I was singing! I had my earbuds in! What are you doing home? What’s in the bag?”
    “I forgot something. It’s, um, dog food. We’re having a food drive at school.”
    “Do you really think it looks good to give dog food?”
    “Mo- ther. It’s not for the people. It’s for their dogs.”
    “You mean to tell me they can’t afford to feed themselves, but they have dogs? What’s this country coming to?”
    “Are you getting laundry? I’ll help you fold,” Clarity said. “Let’s take it upstairs.”
    They went up the stairs, leaving me alone again.
    I was really, really hungry.

 
    SEVEN
    Clarity did come back, and I was as glad to see her as I was the bowl of food in her hand.
    “She’s finally gone. Oh, Molly, I am so, so sorry.”
    I buried my face in the bowl, crunching the food until my mouth was dry and then drinking as much water as I could hold. Then Clarity took me out into the backyard, where the sun was shining and bugs were singing and the grass was fresh and warm. I sprawled out, rolling in sheer joy, and Clarity lay down next to me. We played tug-on-a-towel for a few minutes, but I was exhausted from barking all morning and when she picked me up to cuddle me to her chest I immediately fell into a deep sleep.
    When I woke up, I was back in the small space. The second I yipped, though, I heard running footsteps and then Clarity shoved aside the boxes. “Shhh, Molly! You need to be quiet!” Clarity said. I thought I understood what she was saying: when I wanted her, I needed to bark and then she would come.
    She let me play in the basement and she fed me more food. When I needed to squat on the cement floor, she cleaned it up and wasn’t upset that I couldn’t yet hold it until I made it outside. She hugged me and kissed me up and down my face, pure adoration flowing from her with such power I squirmed with happiness.
    We played and played until I was sleepy. She even woke me up that night to wrestle in the cool air of the backyard, all the bugs gone silent. It was so much fun to be outside when everything was so quiet!
    The next morning there were loud noises from upstairs, plus I heard Gloria’s voice: “Would you please turn down the music?” I barked and scratched at the boxes that were blocking my exit, ready to get upstairs to play with Clarity.
    When I both felt and heard the vibration from a door slamming I quieted down, trying to figure out what was going on. Was I alone again? No, there was still someone upstairs; I could hear walking. Then there was a sigh of air as the door from the outside to the basement opened. The boxes slid away and I jumped out and into Clarity’s arms, my heart leaping with joy. Time to have more fun!
    “You have to be very quiet,” she told me. She carried me out into the backyard and through a gate and then set me down and we went for a walk and then a car ride (front seat!) and then to a