check on her, and when I finally found Belinda sitting under a tree she had fallen asleep.
“Good dog, you are such a good dog, Ellie,” Maya whispered to me. We woke up Belinda, who checked her wrist and emanated a quick shock of surprise.
“Just . . . had an off day,” Maya said. Belinda didn’t reply.
That night Maya called me while she was in the bathtub. I sniffed curiously at the bubbles in the tub and lapped up a little of the water, wondering why anyone would want to swim in such a small enclosure. Certainly the cats weren’t interested. Tinkerbell was, as usual, hiding from the world, Stella was conducting an unauthorized examination of my bed (I could tell by the smell of it that she’d even tried sleeping there!), and Emmet was in the bathroom with me, licking himself and waiting for something to happen that he could ignore.
Maya was sad. She reached a wet hand out and stroked my head. “I’m sorry, Ellie; I’m just not good enough. I just can’t keep up with you in the field. You’re such a good dog, you need someone who can handle you.”
I wondered if she would be happier if I got into the tub with her. I put my paws up on the edge of the tub, testing the theory a little. Emmet stopped licking himself and looked at me without any of the proper respect, then lifted his tail and waltzed out of there as if daring me to chase him down and reduce the cat population in the house.
“Tomorrow, I have a surprise for you, Ellie,” Maya said, still sad.
Well, okay, I’d gone this far . . . I climbed into the tub, sinking through the insubstantial bubbles.
“Ellie!” Maya laughed, her delight blowing out the sadness like a candle.
{ TWENTY-TWO }
The next morning I was excited to go for a car ride because, well, it was a car ride! I also picked up some happy anticipation from Maya, so I knew we weren’t going to work, because lately there hadn’t been much happiness associated with that. But it wasn’t until she stopped and opened the door that I realized where I was.
Jakob’s apartment.
I ran ahead of Maya, bounding up the stairs and barking at the door, which I would never have done when I lived with him. I could smell Jakob inside and hear him moving to the door. He opened it and I barreled into him, leaping and twisting joyously.
“Ellie! How are you, girl? Sit,” he commanded.
I dropped my bottom onto the floor, but it didn’t want to stay there.
“Hi, Jakob,” Maya said from the doorway.
“Come on in, Maya,” Jakob said.
I was so thrilled to see Jakob I sat by his side as he eased into a chair. I wanted to climb into his lap and it if had been Ethan I probably would have, but with Jakob there was never any nonsense like that.
I sniffed around the apartment while the two of them talked. My bed was gone, I noticed, but my scent was still in the bedroom and I would have no problem sleeping on the carpet or in Jakob’s bed if he wanted.
Then I trotted back out to be with Jakob, passing by Maya, who reached a friendly hand out to stroke my back, and that’s when it hit me: going back to Jakob would mean leaving Maya.
Dogs are not allowed to choose where they live; my fate would be decided by people. But I nonetheless felt torn inside, conflicted.
Jakob was far better at work than Maya. But Maya didn’t carry that inner core of sadness with her all the time; she felt genuine joy at Mama’s house, where there were all the children to play with. Yet Jakob didn’t have any cats.
I had a clear purpose—to Find, Show, and save people. I was a good dog. Both Maya and Jakob were focused on work, and that meant neither one of them could ever love me with the utter abandon of Ethan. But Maya embraced me with an unguarded affection that Jakob never allowed himself to feel.
I began to pace anxiously.
“Do you need to go out?” Maya asked me. I heard “out,” but she didn’t say it with any enthusiasm, so I didn’t react.
“No, when she needs to do that, she sits by the door,” Jakob said.
“Oh. Right, I’ve seen her do that,” Maya said. “I just leave my back door open a lot of the time, so, you know. She can come and go.”
They were silent for a bit. I eased into the kitchen, but as usual the floor was antiseptically clean, free of anything edible.
“I heard you’re taking disability,” Maya said.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been shot twice in five years; that’d be enough for anybody,” Jakob replied with a gruff laugh.
“You’ll be missed,” Maya observed.
“I’m not leaving town, I’m enrolled at UCLA. Full-time, I only have a year and a half left for my law degree.”
There was another silence. A tiny signal of distress came off of Maya, something I’d noticed before when others tried to talk to Jakob and instead wound up sitting there without saying anything. Something about him made people uncomfortable.
“So when are you up for certification?” Jakob asked.
