A/N: Hey! It's been a while, hasn't it? So, this was inspired when I read the Art of Racing in the Rain, and is kind of heavily based on that. If I stole too much from it, just tell me, but other than that, enjoy it!
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I: From Humble Beginnings
I am not afraid to die.
On this particular night, I know that it is the end for me. I am laying in my bed, unable to move, immobilized by the pain in my hips. I want to move too, I am hungry. But every time I try to chew, the food just lingers on my tongue and eventually slides off, cruelly not allowing me to get its nutrients, or even taste it before it falls.
One of my master Seeley's friends had said that I should be put down. He disagreed, said it was a stupid idea. But even I knew that it was for the best.
My master has many intellectual friends. One of his dearest is a well-toned woman with slightly curled brunette hair, a squared jaw, and wide hips and full breasts that are well-suited for childbirth. She is not only stunning, but one of the smartest of his friends, and for hours she would talk to him, spouting the most incredible knowledge.
I was always there, either at his feet or lurking. But either way, I would listen.
Dogs are, as a general rule, smart, but I was always searching to learn more. I drank in information quickly. When Seeley and his son would watch an educational channel on television, I would sit beside them, rapt with attention. Or when the boy was just beginning to learn to read, he would read to me. Yes, it was slow learning, but I picked up more knowledge nonetheless. And countless nights would be spent with the woman talking. As she spouted knowledge, I lapped it up, eager for more. Seeley it seemed sometimes couldn't care less about what she was saying though. He would stare at her with his puppyish brown eyes. That's how I knew.
He loved her more than any one of his other friends from work who he would occasionally drink with, and the colleagues of this woman. There was just something special about her that intrigued him. And he loved that. I saw many women come and go in his day, but none seemed to stick like her. I would listen to him while he slept. He would talk. Yell, sometimes, and a lot of it seemed to be about her. Were these nightmares of her loss, or the most erotic dreams he had ever had?
He even left her subtle hints in his interaction with her that he was pining for her. He would guide her with his palm on her lower back, he would get close to her when he talked, he even had a pet name for her. Bones. He told himself that it was just to piss her off in the beginning, but even then I could smell the attraction on him; sense the longing to get closer; to become something more than just partners.
Whenever she came over, or we met with her, I would listen intently, learning more and more every day. I loved it, too. It was almost as if she knew everything. If he said something wrong, she would correct him, or spout knowledge that pertained to the subject. But my favorite was when she went back to her Anthropology roots. She told of mysterious tribes in foreign lands that had cultures other than our own.
The Mongolians were by far my favorite.
Bones spoke of how after Mongolian dogs died, the people would bury them up in the hills so that no one would tread on their graves. They would cut their tails off and put them under their heads as pillows, and would stick a piece of meat or fat in their mouths to ensure that they would last in to their journey in to the afterlife.
And when they died, they got reincarnated in to a human.
She said this to him when I was near to the end, but not as near as I am now. I remember that day.
Every day has a new scent, a new feel. That day was a dark, heavy day. All of them had been since my health had been in a steady decline. It smelled like rain and fall. We sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the chilly morning air drinking coffee like we had a million times before. Bones' hair was straight with bangs at the time. It seemed less glossy, too, still depressed from the day that Seeley rejected her. Her eyes which used to be almost a Caribbean blue seemed more gray than ever. She, like me, had seen better days.
The comment was intended to make my master feel better, like most of her comments were, but he just hung his head low, sighed, and just said "I know what you're trying to say, Bones." He looked at me. I looked back with my heavy eyes and tried to raise my lips in a smile. He looked back at her. "But I'm just not ready to let him go."
"Booth," she said in a more serious tone, "It has come to my attention that Teddy has been having some problems with his joints in the last few years, and I'm trying to do what I think is best for him."
Oddly, I wasn't offended by this. I knew what was coming. I wasn't afraid. For some reason, I felt ready.
"I'm ready to leave, Seeley, I really am." I said. But he didn't hear me.
Ready to be a human.
When I am finally a real man, I shall find Seeley and his Bones, shake their hands and tell them that Teddy said hello. I will wink and walk away smiling, leaving them confused and surprised.
Their daughter will ask who Teddy is.
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My best memories were from the day he brought me home.
He plucked me out of a large pile of squirming pups, our gnashing teeth and flying fur didn't seem to bother him. We were playing. He understood.
I knew I could trust him the moment I felt his slightly calloused fingers on my scruff, pulling me from the herd. He brought me to his face, looking at me carefully with his warm brown eyes. He was a younger man then than he is now. A delicate stubble adorned his cheeks. His muscles rippled as he turned me in his arms, knowing what he was looking for in a healthy pup.
The owner of the farm where I had been born came up to him. A short, thick man with a scrunched face and a heavy Southern accent who always seemed to have an abundance of plaid and overalls. He looked to people like one of the nice farmers that treated animals with care, but we all knew what he really was. He couldn't care less about us. He scammed people out of their money. And for what? Enough money so he could go buy more overalls or a new cow the next weekend.
His wife we liked, though. She was a sweet woman. She was the one who took care for us, and our mother. She would often let us all snuggle together in her lap. I wouldn't tug on the ears of my fellow pups as they often did, but tried to get as close to her as I could. She was more of a mother to us than our own mother was, or that any of the others even realized.
Our own mother didn't seem to like us very much either. She seemed to get annoyed with us, always nipping to get fed, or for her to lie down and play or snuggle with us. What I suspected was that it wasn't her first litter.
"Well howdy," the farmer said in his thick Southern drawl, putting on the act he always did for clients. "What can I do fer ya?" The man at this point was just hovering. Although I had noticed him, my other playmates that I frolicked with didn't skip a beat of the biting and tumbling that we did. He was silhouetted by the sun, so his face was cast in to shadow.
I could tell he was a tall man, wearing a white tee and long pants. His jaw squared, his brow prominent and hair cut in to a military buzz. When he turned to face the farmer, his face became visible. He looked much younger than he does now; many of the lines he wears now were not there. His face looked longer, more tanned.
He didn't answer the farmer right away, just looked back at us, pondering how to word his question. But before he could answer, the farmer, who had a reputation for being annoyingly nosy asked him "Ya look like yer from the military or somethin." The man turned back to him, his face showing obvious signs of annoyance at his question. He was obviously one who did not enjoy sharing his personal life.
"I, um... Yeah, I am. I was stationed in Iraq for a couple years. Just got back a few months ago." He answered with a strong voice, but it wavered. The look in his eyes suggested sadness, loss. "If you don't mind," he said, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly a few times "I'd like to buy one of your dogs from you." He looked down at us again, obviously trying to decide.
"Yessiree!" the farmer said excitedly. He was always happy to get money for his dogs. "These here are some fine pups, their mom's an Australian Shepherd," he pointed at our mother, who was laying in the grass away from our pen, sleeping in the sun. "The father is a Collie mix, maybe a bit of Rottweiler in him. Good tracking dog. And where the pup's speckled color came from."
I remember looking at the blotchy coat on my back that day. Although the color was right, the feel was wrong. Whereas the parents' coats were thick and slightly wiry, ours were smoother and fluffier. Maybe it was just a recessive gene we got. Or maybe our father was really the Golden mix that lurked around the farm. Our mother could also explain for our coat color, so it wasn't really set in stone that the Collie mix was our father. The Golden was kinder than the Collie, which I could already tell even in us that we were friendlier than the collie was. Golden Retrievers are also respected for their intelligence.
Which I found I had plenty of.
"Feel free ta pick 'un up," the farmer said. The man didn't need to be asked twice. I could see him grin as he reached down and pulled me up by the scruff of his neck. He looked me up and down.
"Gosh, ya must'a done this before!" the farmer said.
"Not really, sir. I had a dog as a kid, but I didn't get to pick him out. I just know what I'm looking for."
"And what exactly is that?" the farmer leaned in so that the brim of his hat almost brushed his chin.
"You know, a strong, healthy dog who can protect me. I may take him out in the work field with me once in a while, so I need to be able to train him easily."
"Oh, whatcha doing for work?" I almost cringed when he asked that. But I didn't.
"I'm in training to be an FBI agent. Maybe he could be useful to me in the field, you know?" The farmer nodded.
"Well, looks like ya got one there. How do you like i'm?"
This was maybe the first time I'd seen the man truly happy. "Oh, he's a gem." he smiled broadly and hugged me to his chest. "I think I'll take him." His warm hand stroked me all the way down my back. I took that opportunity to lazily put my nose to him and sniff. He smelled of shaving cream, deodorant and cologne, with a small amount of perspiration. He smelled like a man who was trying to please, but not really anyone in particular.
I liked that.
"Great! I'll go get the paperwork."
"Wait, before you do, how much are we talking about?" the man asked. I knew what was coming now. He would charge too much and the man would put me back.
"Five hundred even." the farmer said without a waver.
But he just shrugged it off and pulled out his checkbook.
I knew he was willing to do what was best for others. This just proved to me that he was strong enough to keep going, no matter what happened.
Later I would find out that this would happen a lot.
Before the man left with me, the farmer said to him "Ya never gave me yer name, boy." He held out his hand.
"Seeley." the man said, taking it. "Seeley Booth."
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I would look back on this moment often.
Especially when I was nearer to the end, I would remember the days when I didn't ache as much, when I could chew anything. When I would go to the park to run and chase sticks.
From my bed I hear a whistle. It's Seeley in the other room. He wants me to join him while he watches football. I lift my head a tiny bit, but I can't get up further than that. I choose to let sleep cloud my vision again.
Just minutes later, the whistle comes again. This time with a voice.
"Teddy? You there boy?"
I can't see them, but I imagine them sitting there, Seeley and Bones. Seeley would be watching the game with rapt attention and Bones would be either writing her next novel or house-hunting, maybe eating with one hand splayed over her swollen belly.
I hear them whispering.
"Booth, maybe you should go see if he's okay. He seems to be having a lot of trouble standing up lately." Bones says, her voice not faltering even as she stares at her bright computer screen. Booth yells because his team just scored, not hearing her.
"What Bones?" he says, sitting down and setting his beer on the table. "What about Teddy?"
"I don't think he can get up." she says in a lower voice. "Go check on him."
"Aw come on. You're underestimating him."
My ears perk up as he whistles again. I can't get up.
"Teddy boy, I know you're there. Come here!" Booth yells again.
"Seriously Booth. I think he needs help." Brennan whispers, now looking up at him. Her eyes show worry. Booth just rolls his.
"He'll come around, just you wait Bones." Booth coos, turning back to the game. She shrugs and goes back to her house-hunting, her hand flung over her stomach.
I know now they may never come to get me.
I will not let that happen. My stomach growls and aches, ready to be filled with food. Since I cannot speak, I have only one choice.
"Do you hear whining?" Booth asks Brennan. She looks at him again, concerned. "I think it's Teddy." Booth jumps up, but only because something happened on the screen he's watching, not paying attention.
"What didja say, Bones?" he asks, sitting down again.
"Booth, Teddy is whining. I think he needs help up." and then mutters "Maybe if you weren't too busy yelling at the television you would hear him."
"All right, Bones." Booth says, finally giving in. "I'll go check on him."
I hear as Seeley stops whispering and gets off the couch, the springs creaking slightly in relief. He pads over to me, his bare feet making a sticking sound on the wooden floor. I lift my head to greet him, but let it fall when he kneels beside me.
"Teddy, can you get up?" he asks softly.
"No, I can't get up. Can't you see? I'm immobile!" I want to shout. But all I am capable of doing is looking at him with large eyes pleadingly. I know that he can hear my stomach growling.
"Come on buddy. Let's get me something for you to eat." Seeley hooks his arm under my stomach and lifts me up with ease. I stretch my legs in hopes that it will soothe some of the pain in my hips. But it doesn't. It never does.
I trot in to the kitchen behind Seeley, watching with anticipation as he pulls a can of soft food that I can swallow without chewing much out of the cabinet. He opens it and plops the brown goo in a bowl and sets it down in front of me.
I look up at him. Over my many years of living, I have tired of the food they feed me quickly. I wish that my last meal could be something more tasteful. But I go to eat it anyways, Seeley watching me carefully.
"That's a good boy," I hear him say softly. I try to stand and eat the rest of the food to please him, but my legs are shaking, unable to support me. After a few moments, my legs give out easily, leaving me sprawled on the floor.
Seeley rushes over.
"Bones!" He calls. "Teddy fell. Get me the phone." I see Bones push herself heavily off the couch and waddle towards us, grabbing the phone as she passes it's charging dock. her eyes widen when she gets to me.
"I'm gonna call the vet," he informs her, still watching me. She kneels down next to me, using Seeley for support. He looks at her with sad eyes. "I don't think he'll be coming back after this one." I see a tear slide down his cheek as he dials. Bones puts her arm around him for comfort, and places his hand on her stomach. He smiles weakly at her, but then the person on the other end of the line picks up and he has to answer.
While he talks, Bones scoots closer to me and holds my head in her hand. She lifts it up so I face her.
"Oh Teddy," she whispers. "I told Booth not to let you suffer like this." Bones whispers to wipe a tear from her eye. I nuzzle in to her and close my eyes. "But he knew you weren't ready to die."
"I'm ready!" I yell. "I want to die!"
But of course, she doesn't hear me.
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To be continued...