A Dog's Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron Page A

the time for suckling at my new mother’s teat was at an end. It was just how it was supposed to work—a dog eventually separated from his mother.
    But mostly I knew an opportunity was in front of me that was irresistible, a whole new world to be explored with long, if somewhat clumsy, legs.
    The dirt track eventually led to a road, which I decided to follow, if for no other reason than the fact that it led straight into the wind, which was bringing me wonderful new scents. Unlike the Yard, which had always been parched, I smelled damp, rotting leaves, and trees, and pools of water. I skipped forward, the sun in my face, happy to be free, off on an adventure.
    I heard the truck coming long before I saw it but was so busy trying to catch an amazing winged bug I didn’t even look up until the door slammed. A man with wrinkled, tanned skin and muddy clothes knelt down, his hands out in front of him.
    “Hey there, little fella!” he called.
    I regarded him uncertainly.
    “You lost, fella? You lost?”
    Wagging, I decided he must be okay. I trotted over to him and he picked me up, holding me high over his head, which I didn’t appreciate very much.
    “You’re a pretty little fella. You look like a purebred retriever; where did you come from, fella?”
    The way he was speaking to me reminded me of the first time Senora called me Toby. I instantly understood what was happening—just as the men had pulled my first family from the culvert, this man had taken me from the grass. And now my life would be what he decided it would be.
    Yes,
I decided.
My name could be Fella
. I was thrilled whenhe sat me down inside the front of the truck, right beside him. The front seat!
    The man smelled like smoke and had an eye-watering tang to him that reminded me of when Carlos and Bobby would sit out in the Yard at a small table and talk and hand a bottle to each other. He laughed when I tried to climb up to lick his face, and continued to chuckle as I squirmed around in the narrow places of the truck, taking in rich, strange odors.
    We bumped along for a while, and then the man stopped the truck. “We’re in the shade here,” he told me.
    I looked around blankly. A building with several doors was directly in front of us, and from one of them came strong chemical smells exactly like those coating the man.
    “I’m just going to stop for one drink,” the man promised, rolling up the windows. I didn’t realize he was leaving until he’d slipped out and shut the door behind him, and I watched in disillusionment as he entered the building. What about me?
    I found a cloth strap and chewed on it for a little while, until I got bored and put my head down to sleep.
    When I awoke, it was
hot.
The sun now came full force into the truck, the cab airless and humid. Panting, I started whimpering, putting my paws up so I could see where the man had gone. There was no sign of him! I dropped my feet, which were literally burning from the windowsill.
    I had never felt such heat. An hour or so went by as I paced back and forth across the scorching front seat, panting harder than I ever had in my life. I began to quiver, and my vision was swimming. I thought of the faucet in the yard; I thought of my mother’s milk; I thought of the spray from the hose Bobby used to break up dogfights.
    Blearily I noticed a face staring in the window at me. Itwasn’t the man; it was a woman with long black hair. She looked angry, and I backed away from her, afraid.
    When her face vanished, I lay back down, nearly delirious. I didn’t have the energy to pace anymore. I had an odd heaviness in my limbs, and my paws were beginning to twitch of their own accord.
    And then there was a hard crash, rocking the truck! A rock tumbled past me, bouncing off the seat and falling to the floor. Clear pebbles showered down on me, and a cool kiss of air swept in over my face. I lifted my nose to it.
    I was limp and helpless when I felt hands slide around my body and raise me into