Persephone-Daryl Dixon's Dogs
One day while out with Aaron, Daryl finds a Pit bull female downed and being savaged by walkers. He quickly dispatches the dog to relieve her suffering. After taking care of the walkers, he steps over to the dog and takes a closer look.
"This bitch had a litter not that long ago," he muttered to Aaron, "see there, she's still nursing." Aaron frowned and looked around.
"Do you think the walkers got them too?" he asked, still glancing around.
"Only one way to find out," Daryl grunted. He immediately set about looking for some sign of where the bitch had left the pups. A half hour later, they found the litter in an area where some heavy branches had fallen and made a semi covered enclosure. Daryl heard the moaning of some walkers and found two lunging around the enclosure. After killing the walkers, he listened carefully and heard a soft whimpering of pups. He reached down into the enclosure and carefully felt around, slowly pulling out four small pups. They looked to be about four weeks old, eyes opened but still clumsy in their movements. He knew this had saved them-if they'd been older they'd have been running and playing out in the open and the walkers would have gotten them.
Daryl scooped them up and began carrying them toward where they'd parked his bike and Aaron's car. At Aaron's look, Daryl grunted and growled, "What? Cain't leave 'em here to get eat by walkers. Without their momma they'll starve ta death."
Aaron frowned. "Aren't those some kind of dangerous breed? What are they?"
Daryl snorted in disgust. "These're Pits. And no they ain't dangerous. They're the best guard dogs ya can have cuz they're easy to train and loyal as hell."
Aaron, stopped. "Aren't those the dogs that were always attacking people? And used in those underground fighting clubs?"
Again, Daryl snorted in disgust. "Hell, these dogs are not naturally vicious. Folks bred 'em and trained 'em for fighting for sport. Used to watch a show 'bout how they rescued the dogs and retrained 'em as service dogs and therapy dogs. They're one of the best breeds around. Just gotta bad rep cuz of assholes fighting 'em." He spat on the ground.
Aaron nodded thoughtfully. He could see how Daryl might sympathize with the dogs. He too had been trained by life to be surly, vicious even and good at fighting. If a dog like that could be retrained, maybe in time so could Daryl. With some kindness and patience, maybe Daryl would feel more a part of the community and less of an outsider.
They walked in silence toward the vehicles, Aaron noting the care and gentleness in the way Daryl held the pups. He listened closely and heard Daryl murmuring softly to the pups, trying to calm them. Aaron smiled, maybe this would be a good thing for both Daryl and the pups.
At Alexandria, Daryl took the pups from Aaron's front floor board and carried them carefully into the house he shared with Carol, Michonne, Rick, Carl and Judith. Carol looked up from where she sat in the living room. "What's that you have there?" she asked curiously. Daryl merely grunted and continued on his way toward the kitchen. He was thinking what he'd need to keep the pups safe and fed. Carol followed him into the kitchen, curiosity getting the better of her. She heard a soft whimpering and looked closer at Daryl. He had his shirt folded up around something in his arms, and the shirt was moving. She stepped closer. "What did you find out there," she whispered.
Daryl glared at her and stepped back. Carol saw he was on guard, tense-a habit of his when he did something he wasn't sure anyone would approve of. She stepped back a bit and crossed her arms patiently. "I can help you if you just tell me," she said softly. Daryl looked at her uncertainly. He shrugged slightly, his face flushing in embarrassment.
"Just some pups we found. Walkers killed their momma. They were still nursing, but bout to be weaned. They're 'bout four weeks or so old," he mumbled. Carol's eyes widened and she smiled.
"Puppies?!" she exclaimed softly. They hadn't run across many animals in all this time-she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen any cats and here in Alexandria she'd seen a few people walking dogs on leashes and she had wondered how they'd kept the dogs from the walkers.
Daryl nodded and grudgingly held the shirt open a bit so she could see.
"How many?" she asked eagerly, wanting badly to touch them but wary of intruding on Daryl's space.
"Four," he huffed out. She could see he was uncomfortable, unhappy he'd been caught out doing something kind. She smirked. Daryl had no idea everyone had realized after Judith's birth that he was really a big softie who covered his kind heart with gruffness and by keeping everyone at arm's length. She had guessed that his deep unhappiness since Beth's death was not simply due to a member of the group's death but in part because he felt he had failed in protecting Beth. He faulted himself for Beth's capture by the group at Grady and subsequent murder at the hands of Dawn. She had long noted his ultra protective way of treating any of the younger members of their group and seen that the children of their group and later the Woodbury group that had joined them had been particularly fond of Daryl despite his outward appearance and rough talk. Children had an unerring instinct to seek out kindness and they had all gravitated toward this in Daryl.
"They're so small," she murmured, leaning in just a bit to see them. "You can probably use Judith's formula to mix with some food for them. I can find you some kind of box or something to put them in so they don't wander around," she tapped her finger against her lower lip thoughtfully. "I'll get some towels too for the box so they can stay warm and lay on something soft." Before Daryl could reply, Carol was off toward the stairs to search for the towels. Daryl sat in a chair, looking down at the pups and smiled softly.
"Ain't gotta worry, ya got ya a new home," he murmured softly.
Within a short time, Carol had found a box and some towels and they'd fixed the box up in a corner of the kitchen for the time being while they fixed up a bowel of formula for the pups to feed from. Carol had told Daryl she knew where some soft and dry dog food was kept and she'd left briefly and come back with her arms full followed by Carl smiling excitedly. Daryl frowned. He already felt very protective of the pups, he didn't want anyone manhandling them.
Carl knelt in front of the box but stopped short of touching any of the pups. He peered up at Daryl hesitantly. "Can I touch them?" Carl respected Daryl and wanted Daryl to see that he thought of these dogs as Daryl's dogs and not community property. Daryl grunted and gave a short nod.
Carl reached in the box and very gently ran a finger over each pup as they lay there sleeping, full now from the formula. "Are they boys or girls," he whispered softly, never taking his eyes from the sleeping pups.
"Three boys and one bitch-um, girl," Daryl hastily corrected himself. Carol smiled as she sorted out the supplies and stored them.
"Did you have a dog? Growing up?" Carl asked hesitantly. "Before all this happened?" he glanced at Daryl quickly before gazing back at the pups.
Daryl shifted uneasily in his seat. "Mmm, not really. My dad had some huntin' dogs, beagles, but merle and I weren't allowed to have nothin' to do with 'em." Carl looked up sharply at Daryl.
"That sucks, why not," he asked, frowning. He'd heard bits of talk here and there about Daryl and merle's rough childhood but he'd never been brave enough to ask Daryl about it. He had gotten the feeling that Daryl didn't wish to discuss anything from the past, especially not his childhood.
Daryl fidgeted again before sighing and shrugging. "M' dad said they were his hunting dogs, not our pets. That playin' with 'em would ruin 'em for hunting," he paused as he thought about how his dad had so obviously favored those dogs over both he and Merle. Those dogs never went without food, something he and merle did frequently. And he'd seen how his dad had treated those dogs with a tenderness and patience he'd never shown either he or merle. Sometimes he had wondered if he had been a dog if his father would have loved him, would have treated him better. He had often snuck out to touch the dogs through the wire of their pen when he was sure he wouldn't be caught. He had envied those dogs-they were wanted and loved. They didn't get beaten or yelled at or feel like their very existence was a huge mistake.
Daryl bit his lip as these memories ran through his mind. Carol and Carl watched him quietly, seeing the play of emotions cross his face rapidly. They glanced briefly at each other-affirming what they each had seen on Daryl's face-sadness and regret.
Carol cleared her throat and smiled at Daryl. "Well, looks like at long last you have your own dogs. Have you thought about any names for them?" Carl turned eagerly to Daryl.
"Yeah, they'll need some tough names. Nothing girly. They're gonna be the town guard dogs," he said excitedly.
Daryl shook his head slowly. "Not much of one for thinking of names. How bout you help me," he mumbled to Carl. Carol smiled again. That was so typical of Daryl. She noted the look of awe on Carl's face at being included in naming the pups. He glanced over at Carol.
"I'll have ta think some. They need strong names, so folks'll take them seriously," Carl began. Daryl nodded at Carl.
"Good idea Carl," he grunted.
That evening, the pups squirmed and whimpered on a towel on the floor in the living room while the group sat around watching them and thinking of names for them.
"They should have strong names," Abraham agreed, nodding at Daryl. "Something out of some myth-like Thor." Daryl shook his head, squinting in thought. They'd all suggested different names, but nothing sounded right to him.
Eugene spoke up suddenly. "Well, they're siblings so you'd need names that showed they're related. And you want strong names. I always like the Greek myths best myself. Zeus was the father and ruler of all the gods," he looked hesitantly toward Daryl and Daryl nodded thoughtfully. "Cerberus was the guardian of the gates of Hell, a three headed and vicious dog," he continued. The group murmured. Daryl nodded thoughtfully again. "Achilles was the hero of the Trojan Wars, one of the fiercest warriors ever." Daryl nodded again. He liked the names. Eugene wasn't much of a fighter, and he was a proven liar, but he definitely had learned some things with all his schooling.
"Well that takes of the boys, what about the girl?" Maggie asked, leaning down to run her finger gently along the girl pup's back.
They all sat in thought a minute. Then Eugene slowly smiled. "Persephone," he said softly.
"Who?" Daryl asked gruffly. Everyone else frowned, no one had ever heard of that name.
Eugene had watched Daryl since the incident at Grady. He had seen how deeply Beth's death had affected Daryl. Eugene might be dense when it came to intuiting other people's emotions, but Daryl's grief at the loss of Beth had been such that even a person as unobservant as Eugene could see how Daryl struggled daily since her death. He realized that Daryl felt guilty for having not been able to keep her alive. He hoped caring for these pups would give Daryl some respite from his grief. And the name he had mentioned was appropriate he felt.
"Persephone. The Greek and Roman goddess of spring, fertility, wife of Hades, the god of the Underworld. Persephone ruled Hell along with her husband." Daryl scowled at this and growled in displeasure. "Hear me out. Persephone's father was Zeus, the ruler of the gods," Eugene continued, " her mother was Demeter, the goddess of the harvest. The story goes that Demeter had refused offers of marriage for her daughter from other gods. Hades, the god of the underworld was struck by Persephone's beauty and one day he abducted her from the field of flowers she was walking in. Her mother wandered the Earth searching for her, neglecting the fields. The people cried out in hunger, and Zeus told Hades he had to let Persephone return to her mother. Hades agreed, but he tricked the girl first," he paused and Daryl nodded at him to continue. The rest of the group was listening intently, never having heard this story and impressed with Eugene's telling of it.
"Hades tricked Persephone by feeding her a pomegranate. When Persephone returned to the outside world, her mother was told by Zeus that although Persephone could live with her mother again, she could only stay six months, as Persephone had eaten six of the pomegranate seeds. Demeter was furious, and Persephone wept. But they had to abide by Zeus' word. So each fall, when Persephone returns to her husband in the Underworld, her mother wanders the Earth in sorrow-fields fall fallow, the seasons grow colder. After six months, Persephone returns to her mother, and spring arrives. Flowers bloom, crops grow, the world grows warmer." Eugene paused, surprised by the silence around him. The group had been listening, completely engrossed in the story.
Daryl's jaw had clenched as he had listened. The name was wrapped up in loss and death. But it was also about hope, and new beginnings. It hurt him because it made him think of Beth. But again, maybe this was the right name because the dogs could be a new start for him, something to take his mind off his grief over failing Beth.
"I love it," Carol murmured, looking over at Daryl. She could see how deeply he had been affected by Eugene's story. And although she had always regarded Eugene as something of a misfit, an awkward book smart man who showed a serious lack of basic common sense, she felt his explanation showed remarkable intuitiveness on his part. She smiled encouragingly at Eugene and his face flushed with embarrassment and gratitude.
"I do too," murmured Maggie. The story's parallels to her own dreams she had been having about her sister Beth were unnerving. She had dreamt every night since that awful day at Grady that Beth had somehow miraculously survived being shot. That she had come with them to Alexandria and she lived with Glenn and her. Every morning now for months she'd awoken to realized she'd been dreaming and her heart had broken a little more. At this rate, she felt she had very little heart left to break. Glen had tried his best to comfort her, but it was no use. The grief she felt was in large part due to the overwhelming guilt she felt knowing she had not even attempted to look for Beth after the prison. She had discounted any possibility of Beth surviving, considered her too weak to have been able to take care of herself. From what little Daryl had told her of his and Beth's time together, she knew she had grossly underestimated her sister and she was ashamed of it. And now she would never have a chance to make it up to her. Beth was dead without Maggie ever having had the chance to tell Beth how very much she had missed her and how sorry she was for doubting her.
Daryl looked over to Maggie and studied her intently. He saw the different emotions wash over her face, and knew she was feeling some of the same things he felt. They both had enough guilt to last them a lifetime. If she liked the name, the least he could do was give her this small happiness and agree to the name Eugene had suggested.
Daryl grunted and they all looked at him. "That's it then, they're all named," he said gruffly. He nodded briefly to Eugene. "Thanks," he said shortly. Eugene flushed again, glad he'd been able to do this small thing for Daryl and Maggie. It was just a name for a dog, but maybe the name would start the healing process for the two.
They worked out a schedule so the pups would be constantly monitored. Feedings, changing the blankets in the box and eventual ideas about training were discussed. It was decided the pups would remain indoors until they were quite a bit older-to ensure they survived, and for them to be completely socialized with all of them. Daryl didn't want anybody in the town to complain about the pups presence, he knew Pits had a bad reputation, although undeserved. He wanted the pups to grow into dogs the town could be proud of and love-guardians and protectors of them all.