(Season 6)
Okay, I need to issue a serious tissue alert for this chapter.
I don't own Bones.
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He was using jogging as a way to release some of his pent up anger and frustration. Right or wrong, once he'd been rejected by Hannah, Booth had immediately given up on that relationship. She hadn't wanted the same things he did and once again he was alone. At first he'd been filled with rage. He'd tried so hard to be the perfect boyfriend and that hadn't seem to make an impression with Hannah all. No matter what he did, no woman wanted what he was offering and he didn't understand why.
Several days removed from that awful evening and Booth was starting to accept that he would probably always be alone. All he had ever wanted was someone to love him and it looked like that was never going to happen.
While he circled the park, his pace steady, his breathing even, he noticed a young dog lying under some bushes. The first time he jogged past the animal and circled the park once more, but when the dog was still there the second time he passed the bush, he stopped and moved off the path. Slowly moving towards the dog, he could see it was a mixed breed of some kind. If anything she looked like a Labrador retriever puppy, but as he got closer he could tell the dog was probably closer to a year old and not a Lab. The dog was thin and clearly hadn't been fed in a while. "Hey girl."
He tried to get close enough to touch her, but she crawled further under the bushes, whining in fear. Afraid he might hurt her if he grabbed her, Booth thought over his options, stood up and leaned over the bush. "I'll be right back Sweetheart. Just stay there."
After leaving the park, he jogged down the street to a convenience store and bought a few cans of dog food, two bottles of water and a can opener. Carrying them in a bag, he jogged back into the park and back to the spot where he'd last seen the dog. Relieved that she was still there, he sat down next to the bush, opened one of the cans, removed the lid and used his finger to stir up the food so it wasn't a solid mass of food. "Yum, this looks really good."
Slowly, he placed the can on the ground near the bush and waited to see what would happen. Soon the dog crawled out into the open and stared at the can and then at Booth. Booth realized that the can was too close to him, so he pushed it closer to the dog and waited.
Her hunger overcoming her fear, the wary young dog moved slowly to the can and soon was eating. She was so hungry she whined while she ate, once in a while pausing to look at the man who had decided to feed her. "See, I told you it was good. It should be for what that store charged me for that can of food."
Once the can was empty, the dog lay down next the can, panting. Booth was concerned that she might be dehydrated, so he opened one of the bottles of water and poured some of it in to the now empty can.
Her tongue quickly lapped up the water and once that was done, looked at her benefactor clearing hoping for more. A gentle smile playing on his lips, Booth filled the can with water again. "I know the water probably tastes like crap since you had dog food in there, but it's wet and you need water."
While she drank for the second time, Booth slowly moved his hand over and stroked the top of her head. At first she stepped back and stared at Booth as if judging him. Finally making a decision, she moved back to the can and continued to drink while Booth stroked the top of her head with two fingers. "What am I going to do with you? I can't leave you out here. You'll starve to death or a coyote will come along and kill you."
He spoke softly and his fingers were feather light on her head. Once the dog was done drinking, much to Booth's surprise, she moved closer to him and lay down next to his knee. Moving his hand, he started stroking her side. "I wish I knew who dumped you out here. I'd beat his ass from here to Sunday." His voice low and filled with kindness, Booth continued to stroke the dog's side. "You're a cute little thing. I know you're not a puppy, more like a teenager . . . I've always wanted a dog, but I was in the army and moved around a lot and now I work for the FBI and sometimes I'm only home for a few hours before I'm gone again. It's not a great life for a dog . . . Would you like to come home with me? We could give it a try?"
The dog was relaxed and it appeared that she trusted Booth. Just as a test, Booth leaned over and picked her up and placed her on his lap. Much to his surprise, she whined a little, but didn't move. As he continued to massage her back, he moved his hands and started to massage her legs one by one. "You don't look hurt, just starved . . . You're a nice little dog, I don't know why someone would just dump you here."
Soon the dog was asleep and Booth's heart seemed to swell with pride. He loved that the dog trusted him and it made him feel wanted. Soon he stood up, the dog firmly in his arms and with his bag of dog food and water, he left the park. Once he was at his SUV, he placed the dog on the front seat and moved around to the driver's side. Once he was inside the truck, he spent several minutes stroking the dog's head and side while the dog continued to sleep.
Worried about the dog's health, he drove over to a veterinarian near his apartment building and carried the dog inside. The dog awake by then, trembled in his arms, but made no attempt to escape. "It's okay Sweetheart, I just want a vet to look at you and make sure you're okay."
After waiting for thirty minutes, Booth and his dog was shown to an inner room and the Vet was in the room shortly after that. "Well, Mr. Booth, what seems to be the problem?"
"I found her in the park." Booth laid the dog on the table, but as soon as she was down, she turned and buried her face in Booth's shirt. "She's starving. I gave her a can full of dog food and two cans of water. She ate pretty good and she didn't seem to have any trouble drinking. I checked her out as best as I could and I don't see any broken bones."
"Well, let me look her over." Dr. Kirby did a thorough examination and finally spoke to Booth. "She has a bad heart, Mr. Booth. It's probably why the owner threw her away. People can be cruel. They don't want to try to take care of a sick animal or spend the money so they just put them on the street instead of taking them to the Humane Society or Animal Control. Would you like me to put her to sleep? She isn't in pain, but she clearly is very sick and probably won't live very long."
Gently picking her up, Booth shook his head. "Hell no. What the hell? She's just a baby and no one has bothered to try to love her. They just threw her away, well that isn't right. I don't care if she only has two weeks to live, you aren't putting her to sleep. She deserves a little love and kindness before she has to go."
Impressed with Booth's protection of the little dog, Dr. Kirby nodded his head. "It was just a suggestion. Like I said she isn't in any pain. Let me give her some shots, rabies and distemper to protect her and you. You can take her home if that's what you want to do."
Booth thought it over for a second and placed her back on the table, his arms still around her. "Okay give her the shots and I'll take her home. I don't want her to die alone and unloved. No one deserves that."
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Booth folded two blankets and placed them on the floor near his bed. Satisfied that it was probably comfortable, he placed a bowl of water in the kitchen and vowed to go to the store to buy some dry dog food the next day. He wanted his dog to have access to food when he was gone during the day. He also placed some plastic garbage bags on the floor in the bathroom and placed some newspaper on top. He hoped she was house broke, but if she wasn't he thought Sunday would at least give him a chance to begin to train her.
As he had moved around the apartment, the dog had followed behind him, observing. When he had placed the water down, she had took a healthy drink, wagging her tail slowly as she drank. Curious about the paper on the floor, she had moved on it once it was down and peed on it much to Booth's delight. "Hey, you know what that's for. That's great. Good dog." He patted her head and made a great show of praising her. "You know I have to give you a name. Let me think about it. I'll come up with a great name. I'm good at that. I give everyone great nicknames."
After he removed the soiled paper and threw it away, he replaced it with more newspaper and left the room, the dog following him. "Well, let's watch a game. The Nationals should be on right now." Settled on the couch, Booth turned on the TV. As he flipped through the channels, the dog stood on her back legs and whined. Booth looked at her for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell, come on." Booth patted the couch and when he realized she wasn't going to jump up on the couch, he picked her up and placed her on the couch next to him. Her tail thumping the cushion, she stared at her owner for a few seconds and then curled up next to his thigh. Booth rested his hand on her back and gave her a light massage. "I know some people don't like their pets on furniture, but what the hell. You live here too."
The game started, Booth leaned back and relaxed. He hadn't been this relaxed since Hannah had left. Maybe things weren't so terrible after all. "Oh I think I have the perfect name for you. How about Honey? You like that?" Honey didn't react to her new name, but continued to lie quietly next to her owner. Her breathing was soft and she was soon asleep secure that the man who had found her loved her and would take care of her.
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Booth didn't mention Honey to anyone he knew, not even Brennan. It wasn't like he was trying to keep a secret. He just didn't want to share her with anyone. He knew she wasn't going to live very long and listening to her at night, he'd hear her labored breathing if she had done too much activity before bedtime. Worried about her, Booth moved the blankets onto the right side of the bed and placed her next to him each night. When she was huffing and having trouble breathing, he would stroke her back and comfort her until her breathing returned to normal.
Every day, if he wasn't working on a case, he came home at lunch time and carried his dog downstairs and down the street to the small park located there. He watched over her as she did her business and afterward he cleaned it up and disposed the waste in a trash barrel located at the entrance to the park. Honey liked to smell the grass and would lay in it for a few minutes while Booth stood nearby giving her a chance to breathe in fresh air. Every evening he came home and repeated the process. Once she had had a little break at the park, he would carry her back to the apartment, feed her and himself and they would both sit on the couch while a game or movie played on television.
Booth was an active man, but his first concern at the moment was his dog. He was content to be with Honey and he found over the weeks that his anger at the world had melted away. He had never really owned a dog before and he hadn't really realized that a dog could be so comforting and loving. Where ever he was in the apartment, Honey could be found. If Booth took a long bath, Honey waited patiently in the bathroom, lying on the rug while Booth soaked his tired aching muscles. If he was cooking, Honey sat in the kitchen doorway with a hopeful look on her face. Booth usually ended up placing a small spoonful of whatever he'd cooked in a bowl, let it cool and gave it to Honey for an evening snack. While Booth watched television, he could count on Honey lying on the couch next to him, resting. All in all, it was a boring life and yet Booth was quite satisfied with it. He was responsible for someone that needed him and he knew that he needed that. He loved to be needed and he knew that Honey trusted him and perhaps even loved him.
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One evening Booth came home and found Honey in his bedroom, lying near the bed, her breathing was labored and she was having trouble catching her breath. Afraid for her, he picked up her up and placed her on the blankets on his bed. Lying next to her, he stroked her side and told her that he loved her over and over. Honey kept her eyes on her man and continued to labor to breathe, but she knew she wasn't alone and that Booth loved her very much. Soon she stopped breathing and Booth knew she was gone.
Tears sliding down his cheeks, Booth picked up her still body and held her against his chest, crying for his loss. After a while, he got out of bed and carried Honey's body into the bathroom where he retrieved a clean sheet and gently wrapped up her in it. That accomplished, he changed his clothes and carried her down to his SUV. Once on the road he stopped at a Walmart and bought a small plastic box and a shovel. Driving to Shenandoah National Park he found a parking lot and waited for the sun to rise. Before he carried out his mission, he called Charlie at work and told him he was sick and he wouldn't be in that day. That call complete, Booth picked up Honey, kissed her sheet covered body, placed her in the box and carried it and the shovel into the forest. After a few miles and deep in the woods, he dug a hole and placed the box inside. Throwing a little stuffed bone that Honey loved to chew on, on top of the box, Booth quickly covered the small grave with dirt and tried to make the area look undisturbed. He leveled the dirt and moved some branches and leaves over the grave to make it appear less obvious that someone had buried something there.
That accomplished, Booth sat down next to the spot where Honey was buried and let himself cry again. Sitting there, grieving for someone who had loved him, Booth knew he would probably never get another dog again in his life. Honey had been the best and how could he top the happiness he had had with her? She had come into his life when he needed it and his tears were a small price to pay for the few weeks of love that she had given him.
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Sorry, I know this is sad, but I really wanted to write it. I only edited it once since it made me sad to read it, so if you find any errors, I apologize.
A/N: I had a cat that had a serious heart problem. She died when she was eleven months old because of it. I used that experience to write this story. By the way, her name was Tigger and she was a sweetheart.
