I don't remember much of my early years but then again, I understand humans have the same problem recalling their early childhood. Bits and pieces remain with me but how much is imagined and what is real is hard to determine.
One memory that I have is my mother telling me the humans and their strange ways. How she came to these opinions I'll never know since she died when I was still a pup, barely weaned and left in the care of my sire. He grieved over her death and blamed the humans for abandoning their deep pits after digging them. That's how my mother had died. She had fallen through rotting wood covering the opening to an old well. She had drowned in the water-filled hole, alone and unable to scramble up the mossy slick stone walls. She didn't have time for changeover and the waters overcame her.
My sire took over my education, teaching me how to judge the scents on the wind and how to track prey. I wasn't large enough to do more than stumble over my own large paws like the clumsy child I was. His laughter over my missed pounces and frustrations of escaped field mice weren't cruel so I wasn't angry. I would grin back at him and try again, looking for a new opportunity to practice my skills.
The world was a huge playground for me with endless new experiences and wonders to observe. My sire always stayed nearby unless he was hunting. He said there were dangers I was too young to understand in these woods. I sensed his worry over something and saw his pale blue eyes stare off as his mind traveled in a place I couldn't follow. In my youth, I wasn't aware of the fear many of our kind felt.
Humans were spreading fast, taking over our hunting grounds and clearing away our forests. Although we lived in the hill country and mountains we would often come across signs that people had been there. Many of our cousins had moved on to more isolated lands, choosing to avoid mankind rather than risk being discovered.
True wolves were also growing fewer in numbers. They had not the ability to avoid human traps and poisons. We grieved over their losses even though we weren't truly related. Their kind reminded us so much of ourselves that we couldn't help but consider them family in spite of their inability to co-exist with mankind. Then again, mankind often had problems co-existing with themselves much less other living beings.
In spite of our isolation from the humans, word of their conflicts reached us. A Great War had been fought across the waters, leaving many families without sires to provide for them. For a while the encroachment of the humans slowed down, leaving us in peace until the local men began building their smelly metallic things in our woods.
My sire said they were called 'stills' and produced a clear liquid that looked like water yet was foul in scent. So many of these things began showing up that my sire could no longer contain his curiosity. He told me to remain hidden in the brush while he went into changeover. I whined as he cried out in pain for the metamorphosis was agonizing I was told. I never experienced it since I hadn't reached puberty yet and that wouldn't be for many years.
He writhed on the ground until his shape took on human form and his beautiful coat shed from his body, leaving him nearly hairless. If he hadn't been suffering from so much pain I would have laughed at his appearance.
After remaining on the ground, panting in exhaustion, he managed to wobble to his hind legs. It had been a long time since he last stood upright and it took him a while to regain his balance. I watched him as he removed dirty overalls that had been draped over a tree limb and put them on, covering his nakedness. He gave me a reminder growl to stay hidden then began digging through items left behind by the humans, looking for clues. An old and yellowed newspaper was found in the tinderbox and he read the words there. He would occasionally read me a line or two that he found interesting. I wasn't sure I understood half of what my sire told me. What was a 'Prohibition' or a 'Depression' anyway?
Then the wind brought us the scents of human kind; males who smelled of the same foul liquid as the still and wood smoke. I let out a worried yelp, knowing my sire's ability to smell was hindered by his human form.
Two humans entered the small clearing, armed with their killing sticks and angry voices. One of the men, a huge bearded man raised his stick and before my sire could utter a word, aimed his weapon and fired. No longer concerned at remaining hidden, I stumbled out to my sire. I was horrified and went to him, praying he had only been wounded and wouldn't be lost to me as my mother had been.
I licked his face but his eyes stared up at the sky sightlessly. I could only cry as my parent remained at my feet, dead by the hands of a human. The bearded human and the other were shouting at one another, his friend angered by his killing someone.
I ignored them as I curled up next to my sire, feeling the still remaining warmth of his body and wept. My world was destroyed and the despair I felt was powerful. I would have stayed where I was and died next to him except the bearded human began pulling my sire deeper into the woods while his friend carried two long-handled tools. They buried my sire in a shallow grave. Neither men spoke a word but the other man, a man with hair like autumn red leaves, picked me up and left the bearded man behind.
I was too emotionally exhausted to care where he was taking me. All I knew was that he felt warm and his touch was kind. Unable to deal with my grief any longer, I fell asleep.
* * * * *
I high-pitched squeal woke me from my nightmarish dreams and I felt myself being squeezed roughly by small arms. A new scent hit my senses.
"Pa! He's so cute!" a female voice said, making me wince from the volume.
"It's a bitch, Honeybee. I found her in the woods and thought you'd like her."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I always wanted a puppy!"
"I know that. That's why I brought her home with me. Whatcha gonna call her?"
The female holding me held me up under my arms and stared at me. I had to admit that for a human she was rather cute with big green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She couldn't be much older than I was, probably around five years old.
"Hmm, I think I'll call her 'Elk', Pa."
"Elk? What kind of name is that for a dog, Honeybee?"
I think I was offended. This girl wanted to call me a name of a creature I ate?
The girl looked stubborn and pulled me to her. "Elk," she repeated and walked away from her father. Damn, I was adopted by someone as stubborn as a moose in the middle of a berry field.
I bore my captivity with forbearance, tolerating her dressing me up in rags and forcing my body into tight chairs for tea parties. At least I was fed scraps and wasn't starving. Caroline even allowed me to sleep on her bed when the nights grew chilly. I suppose she wasn't so bad. She was kind of dumb at times but I think she was trainable. At least I hoped she was. It took her a long time to understand me when I wanted outside. How many times must one whine to get a human's attention? She ignored me too many times one day and I grew tired of begging so I made puddle on the wooden floor. Her pa wasn't too happy and she and I both got a beating over that. I can't complain, I deserved it, but I felt sorry for Caroline and tried harder to teach her.
After all, she and I were alike in some ways. She was being raised by her sire just like I had been. She was left alone quite often and I was her only playmate. Rarely did anyone come to visit except 'Aunt Gertrude', her sire's sister who fussed and complained about his living in the woods without sending his only child to school.
"And that pup you brought home, Will, looks more wolf than dog. How do you know it won't attack Caroline when it gets older? Wolves turn mean, you know."
"It's got the wrong coloring for a wolf. Maybe part wolf with those blue eyes maybe," he ventured.
"Wolf is wolf. I say get rid of it before it turns on you."
I knew he'd ignore her but I couldn't help the grumble that escaped past my teeth.
Gertrude looked at me and pointed. "That dog is unnatural, Will. I swear it understands every word I say. Do you know Elk tried to trap me in the outhouse? I was sitting there and heard dirt hit the door. If my Nathan hadn't come to my rescue I would have been trapped in there!"
"Yes, you told me that many times already. I told you the pup was just digging, that's all, just coincidence is all."
Gertrude wasn't convinced but I tried to look innocent and puppyish. She eyed me nervously and left, walking back up the path that took her to her cabin. One day I just might bite her but I'd have to think about it hard since she smelled funny.
It wasn't much longer that Caroline turned six and had to attend school. I would walk along side of her to the small building. I wanted to make sure no one bothered her on the way. I would meet her when school got out for lunch and she'd share her meal with me. I was the only dog there and got good at begging from all the children, getting bits of food from most of them. Later I would be waiting there when school ended for the day and walked her home.
Time passed slowly and I grew even slower. Our kind didn't shoot up the way dogs did. Even though I was now six years old, I looked like a gangly puppy of six months of age. I knew I wouldn't hit my full size until I was nearly ten years old. Soon after puberty would arrive and I'd have to decide what to do with my life then. But I didn't want to dwell on it right now, choosing instead to enjoy my time as a 'pet' to a human. Caroline was getting better at learning what I wanted and even managed to learn a few things with the minimal of lessons.
In the year of 1933, things changed. The Prohibition was lifted and many of the moonshiners closed up shop, Caroline's sire included. He couldn't make enough money in moonshine to support the two of them and the Depression was getting worse.
Will and Caroline packed up what few belongings they had and left behind their cabin. Will thought he'd might be able to find work in the city or at least hoped to do so. I thought they'd be better off in the woods since at least there he could hunt for food. I had to admit I was afraid of this city he spoke of.
We walked for hours that day along a dusty and rutted dirt road then camped under a makeshift tent at the side of the road for the night. Dinner was a can of cold beans heated next to the tiny campfire and eaten with spoons. Caroline gave me a spoonful of beans but it did little to satisfy my appetite. Once she and Will fell asleep, I snuck out into the night and hunted, finding a fat rabbit for my dinner. Then I hunted down another one and brought it back to the tent. At least my humans would have something for breakfast.
I settled in next to Caroline with a sigh, knowing that dawn would be here all too soon and I needed some sleep before then.
Generations, part 2
The city proved to be even worse than the country but Will refused to hike back to his cabin. Caroline finally voiced my own thoughts when she asked her sire why couldn't they go back.
"Because I sold it. Now hush," he hissed at her. By his anger I could tell the price he got for the tiny cabin hadn't been much and he probably had already spent it all just feeding them these last few weeks. And the reason he was whispering was because we were sneaking out of the flop house we had staying in. He feared they would lose the few possessions they had when the manager couldn't collect the rent money.
I could smell the fear on his skin as I followed them into the chilly streets. Streetlights barely broke the darkness and it seemed every footstep was unnaturally loud. We made our way north where the Hooverville was located, stepping over litter and broken bottles. The condition of the buildings got worse and worse as we neared the poorest part of town and I nervously kept sniffing the air. Desperation of people made the community of tar-shack dwellings fearful and protective of what they had. You could easily be knifed over a rusty kettle or a soiled rag.
Will spotted a group of men sitting around a campfire and told Caroline to stay close. As we neared them, one hobo lifted his gaze towards us and grunted.
"Snuck out in the dark of night, eh? Well," the man said, leaning forward and pointing towards a ramshackle box that a chicken would turn up its bill over the condition, "that place emptied out this morning. Go ahead and take it over," he invited. Will looked reluctant but the man waved them on, reminding him this wasn't the Ritz. Will entered it first and found it empty except for a pile of straw in one corner that had been the previous owner's bed. The straw smelled musty and I had no doubts it had occupants that I didn't wish to meet up with.
Caroline's father probably thought the same thing and he kicked it out with one foot then told his daughter to come inside. He settled her in as best he could and leaned back against their satchel of belongings.
"Keep an eye out, Elk," he told me tiredly before drifting off to sleep.
When dawn drew closer, I sniffed the air and listened carefully. No one seemed to be moving about so I decided to do a little snooping and maybe run across something for breakfast. I padded along the railroad tracks until I reached the grassy fields. It didn't take me long to find a rabbit that had just woke up and making its way towards a stream for its morning drink.
I sniffed the ground until I found some wild sweet potatoes and dug them up. My only problem was how to carry these all back. I decided to carry back the rabbit them come back for the potatoes. I headed back to the tar shack town with my prize in my mouth; not realizing eyes would notice my catch. Several hungry people tried to grab hold of me and I had to scramble out of their reach. I growled around the rabbit and ran back to the shack where Will and Caroline were sleeping.
Knowing if I dropped the rabbit that they'd wake with it missing I bumped Will until he woke and let the rabbit fall to the hard dirt floor. Before he could mutter a word I turned around and headed back to where I had found the potatoes. I managed to get hold of two of them in my mouth and headed back, figuring dog spit outside the roots were better than starving for Will. At least they had a large stream nearby to wash them.
Will was outside the shack and gutting the rabbit but saving the entrails. He seemed to be waiting for my return and looked up at me and told me to go with Caroline to find some wood for a fire. Good idea. I wouldn't want her wandering alone in this place. I followed her as she hunted for pieces of dry wood for a fire, even carrying back one large chunk between my teeth. We returned with one load then left for more. When we returned the second trip there was already a small fire burning and Will had taken one of their metal hangers and fashioned it into a spit over forked sticks. Not bad for a human actually.
I kept guard while the meal was cooking, seeing the starving people nearby who wanted nothing more than to steal the rabbit. Will saw their stares and decided he had better find a way to stop them from robbing him of their meal.
"Anyone have a few cents to spare? I bet my dog can catch you a rabbit if you do," he said aloud to the people nearby.
Suddenly people went from thinking about robbery to what they might have hidden away.
"How much for a rabbit?" one man asked.
"Will scratched his sideburns while he thought about it. "Well, I suppose a penny for a scrawny one, two pennies for an average one and a nickel for a fat one. How does that sound?"
Several were thinking it over and Will turned his rabbit so the juices fell onto the sweet potatoes, making many salivate.
"Deal!" the man said, digging into his pant pocket. I have a penny. Get me a rabbit, dog," he grumbled at me. I gave him a look but got up and headed back to the field. I was only gone about ten minutes when I came back with a scrawny rabbit since that was all the money he offered. He tried to take it from me but I growled until he gave the penny to Will. I then dropped it and sat down next to Caroline.
"Anyone else?"
"That is one smart dog. Okay, I have a nickel and I want a fat one for it and I mean it."
"Elk, a fat rabbit, please."
* * * * *
I flopped down, tired as hell, late that afternoon. I had been back and forth to the fields more times than I can recall and was so tired my paws hurt. And if I never saw another damned rabbit in my life I would be a happy pup.
Will counted his money inside the shack, quietly, and found that he now had over two dollars to his name. He gave me a good ear scratching and put Caroline down for a nap while he kept an eye out. If my eyes had been open I would have noticed his mind working over some problem. It wasn't until he stood up that I noticed he looked like he was going somewhere. "Keep an eye on her, Elk. I'm going shopping."
He returned a few hours later, carrying a heavy package wrapped in brown paper. He opened it inside the shack and I saw that he had bought what looked like square sheets of tin the size of floor tiles and spool of wire. I had no idea what he had in mind. He then told me to keep guard and he disappeared outside and returned a while later with two roundish river rocks, one large and the other small. He took one of the sheets of tin and began pounding it with the small rock over the larger one until it took on a rough bowl shape. He then used a nail from the ground to poke holes into each corner and then made a crude wire hanger for it with a loop at the top.
"What's that, Pa?"
"A stew pot, Honeybee. I figure we can cook in it since that pup of yours is so good at finding food."
I sniffed the pot and gave it a little bark of approval. Will laughed and gave me a pat on the head.
"Why don't you and Elk go out and scare up something for the stew?" he asked. Some might find it odd to put a child in charge of hunting up a meal but Will couldn't afford to loose their belongings by leaving them unattended. Either he or I had to keep watch of them or risk them disappearing. So Caroline and me left the shack and headed back towards the field. Caroline carried an old pillowcase as a sack and we spent the late afternoon wandering around the fields and meadows for wild foods.
We collected some things not suited for a stew but might taste good as teas. We found more potatoes, wild strawberries, mint, wild carrots, and even some rosemary that must have once been part of someone's garden at one time and now growing wild. Caroline used her sire's pocketknife to collect what I couldn't dig up and we headed down the stream, following it until we reached a spot with no human tracks because of the rough terrain. Caroline took out the rabbit entrails from a piece of paper and pulled out he father's old fishing line he used for cat fishing. She tied it between two trees over the stream with short lines dangling in the water. With any luck there might be fish caught on the hooks in the morning.
We began heading back towards the shack town when I caught the scent of duck. I froze, looking for what had to be a hidden nest nearby.
Unlike dogs, I could see in color and soon spotted the nest where the mother duck was sitting on her eggs; motionless and hoping I wouldn't see her. I pounced before she could take flight and had her dangling in my mouth while Caroline held up the eggs to see if they were freshly laid. She held them up to the sun and decided they were fit to eat and collected them carefully. Happy at our successful hunting trip, we headed back to Will.
He was sitting near the small fire with his makeshift pot heating water inside. It bubbled happily, just waiting for us to bring something to put into it. Will dressed the duck and chopped everything into smaller pieces and tossed it all into the pot.
I sat down near the fire and looked around. Most of the tension in the camps was eased but not all of it. Not everyone could afford to pay Will's price since they had no money at all. Those people would be the most dangerous and would need to be watched. It had to be hard on people to watch others eat while your own stomach was growling. There were too many gaunt looking people around us, all in the same predicament. The people in the tarpaper camp were people who lost their homes and jobs because of the economy. Times were hard and waiting in lines to ask for charity was humiliating for most adults.
Will and Caroline put some of the stew inside the only bowl they possessed and put on the ground for me to eat from. The two of them ate directly from the stew pot, blowing carefully on the hot juices. They ate silently, sensing the hungry stares from the families around them that had nothing at all to eat. Both ate their fill and Caroline's eyes went to the nearest family before she looked at her father. He knew what she was asking and he waved at the family and told them to eat what was left while it was still hot. The family of four didn't even hesitate. They rushed to the pot like starving wolves and ate it all to the last drop. The parents thanked Will and nudged their children to give their thanks as well before they returned to their own shack.
Will picked up the pot and dish so he could clean them in the stream water. Once washed he filled the stew pot with water and placed it over the fire so he and Caroline had warmed water to wash with. They used Will's only handkerchief as a wash rag and turned in for the night, bringing in his pot so it wouldn't be stolen while they slept.
Continued...