Nobody's Dog by Ria Voros

let’s get out of here
.
    Then I notice a collar around his neck. “Hey, wait,” I say. “Let me see that.”
    The dog stops and watches me. His ears are up in listening position.
    He stays and I grab the band, looking for a tag. There’s a blue plastic circle with a name printed on it and a phone number:
Chilko 554-9850
.
    Chilko. My hands freeze.
    The dog tugs to get away and keeps going down the road, looking back to see if I’m coming. This is the dog from the blue stickie — I know it. How many dogs are named Chilko?
    My mind races. He must live close — maybe even down the street. The owner on the phone said they just moved to town. I haven’t noticed any moving vans or for sale signs around here.
    But should I take him, knowing that he’s escaped from his owner’s yard? Of course, J says. He’s here to roam. It’s his owner’s fault that he got out in the first place.
    The dog — Chilko — is waiting by a driveway. Finally my feet wake up and I start walking. Then I start jogging. Chilko thinks it’s a game and takes off at full speed ahead of me. I pull into a run and it feels good. Chilko paces me, almost smiling.
    It’s all laid out for us. Tonight we’re going to search for the place I see every night in my head. Who knows — maybe Chilko’s even the key to unlocking my memory. I won’t wake up with that helpless, disappointed feeling because I’m out looking for real. And even though I still don’t know what I’m looking for, if I look hard enough, I might just find it. We break into a sprint and launch off the curb into the empty street.
    After a while, running gets sweaty and tiring, so we walk. Toward the water again, but the way we get there is new. Chilko wants to take some back alleys. We get off the main road and onto a gravel lane behind a bunch of houses. It’s not illegal or trespassing, but I feel a little strange walking past people’s old cars and garbage cans and stacks of newspapers. It’s all the stuff you don’t see from the front,the personal stuff. J thinks it’s pretty cool to check out people’s secrets. Only here it’s in the open, spread out like a garage sale. Chilko trots ahead, sniffing and peeing on telephone poles, trees, bushes and even car tires. I look into every yard to see if there are lights on in the houses. A few are, but no one looks out at us. I’m glad I wore my grey hoodie for camouflage.
    Suddenly there’s a scratching sound and a cat launches past me in the other direction. Chilko’s seen it and charges back, his legs blurring underneath him. I had no idea he could run so fast. The cat shoots into a small hole in the side of a garage and Chilko gets there a second too late — and rams into the garage. The whole thing shudders. He looks a little startled, and walks away unsteadily. He glances at me proudly as he trots by, his tail high and waving.
    After I’m done laughing, I look around to make sure no one’s coming out to check on the noise, but everything’s still. I follow Chilko out of the alley and onto Third Street.
    As he checks out everything for new smells, I try to find Sirius. First I have to find Canis Major, the big dog, and after a few minutes, I think I have. My dad could always point them out way before I found them.
Years of obsession
, he said.
It’s like rereading my favourite book
. The constellation doesn’t look like a dog at all, but Dad said most of them don’t really look like their names. You have to draw lines between the stars to get why they were called the hunter or big bear. And even then, it’s hard to see the shape.
    We cross another street, into an area I’ve never explored before. Chilko takes a left to follow a good smell. I call to him and he turns his head. But then he keeps going.
    That’s when a cop car pulls around the corner. I duck