A Dog's Purpose

“I don’t like to think about you being on patrol. It is so dangerous.”

“Albert,” Maya sighed.

“What about Ellie?”

I looked up at my name, but Al didn’t hand down any more meat.

“I don’t know. She can’t work anymore; her sense of smell is too damaged. So she’ll be retired. She’ll live with me. Right, Ellie?”

I wagged, pleased with the way she said my name, full of affection.

After dinner we took a car ride to the ocean! The sun was setting, and Maya and Al set a blanket out between two trees and talked while the waves came in.

“It’s so beautiful,” Maya said.

I figured they probably wanted to play with a stick or a ball or something, but I was on a leash and couldn’t go find one for them. I felt bad that they had nothing to do.

Al got my attention by becoming afraid. His heart started to pound audibly, and I could feel his nervous energy as he wiped his hands on his pants over and over.

“Maya, when you moved here . . . so many months I wanted to talk to you. You are so beautiful.”

Maya laughed. “Oh, Al, I’m not beautiful; come on.”

Some boys down by the water ran by, tossing a saucer at each other. I watched it alertly, thinking of Ethan and the stupid flip. I wondered if Ethan had ever been to the ocean and, if he had, if he brought the flip and threw it out into the waves, where I hope it sank and was never found again.

Ethan. I could remember how he never did anything without taking me with him, except school. I loved the sense of purpose I got from work, but there were certainly days, like this one, when I thought of Ethan and missed being a doodle dog more than anything.

Al was still afraid, and I glanced at him curiously, pulled away from the sight of the boys by his continued alarm. Was there some sort of danger? I couldn’t see any; we were all alone in this part of the park.

“You are the most wonderful woman in the world,” he said. “I . . . I love you, Maya.”

Maya started to feel afraid, too. What was going on? I sat up.

“I love you, too, Al.”

“I know I’m not rich, I know I’m not handsome . . . ,” Al said.

“Oh my God,” Maya breathed. Her heart was beating now, too.

“But I will love you all my life if you will let me.” Al turned on the blanket, rising to his knees.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Maya said.

“Will you marry me, Maya?” Al asked.

{ TWENTY-FOUR }

One day Maya and Mama and all of the brothers and sisters and other family members came together in a big building and sat quietly while I demonstrated a new trick I’d been taught, which was to walk very slowly down a narrow path between wooden benches, mount some carpeted stairs, and stand patiently while Al removed something from a small pack I carried on my back. Then everyone sat and admired me while Maya and Al had a conversation. Maya was wearing a big fluffy outfit, so I knew we weren’t going to the park to play afterward, but that was okay because everyone seemed so glad at how well I’d done the trick. Mama even cried, she was so happy.

Then we went to Mama’s house and children ran around and fed me cake.

A few months later, we all moved into a different house with a much better backyard. It had a garage, too, but thankfully no one suggested I sleep out there. Al and Maya slept together and, though they didn’t mind when I jumped up to be with them, there was frankly no room to get a good night’s sleep and anyway the cats kept climbing up there, too, so I eventually learned to lie on the floor next to Maya’s side, where I could get up and follow her if she awoke during the middle of the night and went anywhere.

Gradually, I came to understand that we wouldn’t be doing work anymore. I could only conclude that we’d Found everybody who needed to be Found and that Wally and Belinda had lost interest in the whole process. Maya still went running, though, and Al sometimes went with us, though he had trouble keeping up.

I was therefore surprised when Maya excitedly loaded me into the truck and took me for a car ride. It felt like we were going to do work, except that Maya’s mood was different, less urgent.

She took me to a big building and told me it was a school. This was confusing to me, as I had learned that school was something where Ethan went away—it wasn’t a place; it was a state of being without the boy. I stuck to Maya’s side, though, as we entered a big noisy room filled with children, who were all excited and laughing. I sat with Maya and watched the children who were doing their best to sit still. I was reminded of Ethan and Chelsea and the children in our neighborhood, always full of energy.

A bright light was in my eyes. A woman spoke, and then all the girls and boys clapped, startling me. I wagged my tail, feeling a collective joy washing off the children.

Maya walked me forward, and when she spoke her voice was very loud and seemed to come from both next to me and at the back of the room.

“This is Ellie; she is a retired search-and-rescue dog. As part of our outreach program, I wanted to come to talk to you about how Ellie has helped find lost children, and what you can do if you ever become lost,” Maya said. I yawned, wondering what this was all about.