Song 18: "Famous Last Words"

The wooden bat cracked against the ball, sending it flying across the field. The crowd went wild. Men and women cheered for the star players, children leaned precariously far over the stands, and strangest of all, a number of dogs in the audience barked at the uproar.

Dodger was one of those baseball-loving pets. He was in the front row, sitting beside Mr. Foxworth, who for once had abandoned his business clothes, wearing khaki shorts and a nice shirt instead. Dodger, of course, wore his navy blue bandana and matching Yankees ball cap. They had the best seats in the stadium, but this wasn't any old baseball stadium. This was the New York Yankees' home field in the Bronx.

"What a game, eh boy?" Mr. Foxworth laughed, waving his Yankees banner. Normally, he was a loyal Dodgers fan, but he was supporting the Yankees on his dog's behalf. "Looks like I'm not the only one who brought my dog today."

He was right. There were several canines in the crowd. Mr. Foxworth knew the team manager, so he'd paid to host a "bark at the park" day where people brought their furry friends. A portion of the proceeds went to city animal shelters, including Foxworth Home.

"There's nothing like seeing a ballgame in real life, right Dodger?" He knew his dog loved watching games on TV, so when he heard the Yankees were playing at their home field, Mr. Foxworth snatched up tickets. "Hey, look! That's a home run!"

Dodger barked excitedly. The baseball soared over the stadium, falling into the outstretched glove of a little boy, held high by his father. The crowd roared, and the father hugged his son. Mr. Foxworth picked Dodger up and gave him a hug, too.

He didn't care that they were in the Bronx. It didn't matter what he'd endured here — that was a long time ago, and he'd put it to rest. He was a different dog now.

It was a close game. To Dodger's dismay, the Yankees lost by the slimmest possible margin. Half the crowd sank into their seats, disappointed cries everywhere, even as the Yankees shook hands with the other team. "Well, that's life, boy. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose." Mr. Foxworth scratched his ears.

Dodger had been so into the game that he didn't know what to do. He was in shock. What broke him out of it was a rival fan about three rows down, laughing at a Yankees fan about their loss. Dodger felt blood flushing through his head. He growled.

The rival fan jumped in fright as Dodger began barking at him ferociously. He quickly shut up and sat back down, but Dodger kept barking. He was too angry to stop.

It wasn't until Mr. Foxworth yanked off his ball cap and whacked him with it that Dodger quieted down. "Bad dog, Dodger! You can't behave like that!" He whimpered, and Mr. Foxworth melted. "Aww, don't be sad. I know that guy was obnoxious, but you can't let people like him get to you. You can't be so angry."

Mr. Foxworth returned his ball cap, but Dodger felt horrible. He'd let his temper get the best of him, like so many times before. He thought he was a different dog now.

With the game over, they left the stadium. Mr. Foxworth walked him back to their limousine on his leash. As Mr. Foxworth drove them out of the Bronx and back home, Dodger swore he'd bury his anger issues for good.


Life was good for the Company in the months that followed. They enjoyed their new Brooklyn home and they ate well, so well in fact that several of them were looking plumper than usual. But as always with life, the Company had to take the good with the bad.

One fateful day, old Einstein got onto Fagin's comfortable bed and shut his eyes, lulled into a peaceful sleep. He dreamed of the days he had spent with Annie in their Bronx apartment, and behind his closed eyelids, it was as though they were finally together again.

Einstein did not wake up from his dream. Fagin was heartbroken to come home and find his oldest dog had passed away, but in truth, he had been expecting it for some time.

"Rest now, Einy," the poor man whispered, stroking his dog's fur. "Rest."

The Company grieved their old friend for many days. Fagin took a shovel and went into the backyard to dig a proper grave for his favorite dog. He knew he shouldn't have favorites, but Einstein had been with him the longest.

Though sad to lose a friend, the Company was happy knowing he was with Annie.

Spring was here at last, and there was change in the air. Though he'd wavered in the past, Fagin had put his drinking and gambling — and borrowing money from the Mafia — habits behind him. Now he never missed a mortgage payment.

Rita was currently relaxing in their new house. Stud, Kitty, and Billy were play-fighting in the backyard, and Francis and Tito were cuddled up together by the TV. She'd never expected them to bond over Bob Ross's paintings, but they were cute together.

Charlie, of course, was stretched out on the couch. "What's on your mind, darling?"

"Not much." Rita walked over and licked her muzzle. "Just how far we've come."

"They owe it all to ya. You're an awesome leader — or president, rather."

"I mean you too, honey. Think of yourself now and where you used to be."

"Me? Ah, I'm nothing." Charlie sat up, scratching her ear. "Never thought I'd have a home or a girl like ya. Thought I'd die alone in that subway station."

"Not on my watch." Rita ran to the closet, dug through a box, and came back with Charlie's favorite golden hip hop chain. She slid it around her neck. "You look good, babe."

They rubbed their muzzles together, ignoring everyone else in the room. Fagin coming in the front door startled them. From all the different scents on him, he'd just come from Foxworth Home. "Hey there, fellas! Boy, you wouldn't believe how the shelter looks. Mr. Foxworth did a total renovation! Says our grand opening will be any day now."

Fagin checked their food and water, then looked at his watch — now he only had the one with Mickey Mouse. It was his favorite. "I think it's time for a walk!"

He grabbed seven leashes from his bedroom. "Let's see… Rita, Charlie, Tito, Francis, now where are… Stud and Kitty and Billy! There you are! Let's get this show on the road."

Fagin led them out the door, which took a bit of maneuvering, but soon all six were outside. He walked them to the sidewalk, and they started around the block. They lived in a modest part of Brooklyn, and the other houses were similar to Fagin's. There were a few trees, and all the local dogs were nice.

"Fine day for a walk, right?" Fagin waved at a couple on the other side of the street. They were walking one dog, a dachshund, and giving him a funny look. It might've been the seven leashes he was struggling to hold onto. They hesitantly waved back and hurried away.

"You can stop looking, sis." Stud was smiling smugly. "He's not out today."

"Who's not outside today?" Rita immediately whipped around. Kitty looked two seconds away from biting her brother, but Stud just laughed. "Oh, no one special. Just this boy named Finn she's completely in love with! He's a Bernese mountain dog. Very fancy."

"Kitty's got a boyfriend!" little Billy laughed. "Kitty's got a boyfriend!"

Tito and Charlie laughed, Francis looked intrigued, and Rita was fighting a smile off her face. "Is that right, Kitty? You'll have to bring this Finn to the house sometime."

Kitty looked like she'd rather jump off the Empire State Building. She turned on her brother, seething. "Oh yeah? Well, Stud has been sneaking out of the backyard to visit girls in the neighborhood!" Her brother suddenly became very small.

"Stud! That's very irresponsible of you!" Rita chastised him, not seeing that Charlie was grinning at Stud behind her back. "We will talk about this when we get home."

The siblings glared at each other the rest of the walk. They were passing more affluent homes now, two-stories with fancier cars. Eventually, Tito got tired of walking and climbed on Francis's head. "You know, you don't actually get exercise that way," Rita laughed.

"Exercise is overrated. Frankie will still love me when I'm a fat Chihuahua."

"I should think it a tad hypocritical of me not to," Francis chuckled.

Tito slid down his back and rested his head on Francis's neck, humming "Buscando Guayaba." Fagin let him stay where he was. "Almost back to the house, fellas."

On the last leg of their walk, Rita and Charlie drifted off to the side. They walked on the pavement, alone enough. "What are ya thinking about, baby? C'mon, ya got that look."

"Just this neighborhood. These homes and cars and lawns. It's so… nice. Everything is nice. And very different from the city streets." Rita saw a mother playing with her son across the street. An elderly couple was sitting on their porch. "But you know what? I love it."

It wasn't exactly busy Manhattan, but her gang was happy here. Fagin had turned his life around, Francis and Tito were happier than ever, and Stud and Kitty were looking for love. As for Rita, she had her stupidly cheesy, wisecracking, hip-hop-loving Charlie.

These streets were different, but in their own way, they were still streets of gold.


The island of Manhattan was golden that morning, the skyscrapers of the lower city reflecting the sunlight. Through the fog in the air, one could make out the display of billboards above — everything from Coca-Cola to USA Today — and the traffic-filled streets below.

Further up the city, away from congested Downtown, were the fine shops and penthouses of Uptown. Bordering Central Park on the east was a fancy street known as Fifth Avenue.

The years had come and gone like passing subway cars, one always leaving, another always arriving, and before you knew it you'd blown through five years in a day.

Five wonderful years that Dodger had spent living with the Foxworths.

Jenny was now a young teenager, taller with longer red hair and a newfound confidence that she'd lacked as a little girl. She wore her hair in a ponytail, and she dressed in jeans and a light blue cardigan. She hadn't had nightmares about being kidnapped by Bill Sykes for many years now, and in fact, she was putting her childhood trauma to good use.

"When I was abducted, I thought no one was coming to save me — I thought I was going to die — but I'm here with us today. And so are all of you," she said to the group.

Jenny Foxworth was leading a therapy group on the first floor of a mental health clinic in downtown Manhattan. "We're all here because we've all been kidnapped or trafficked at some point in our lives. I want you all to know that this is a safe space to share your feelings. Healing is a difficult process, but we're all here to heal together. You're not alone anymore."

She volunteered to lead the group discussion once a week after school on Fridays. Though shaky at first, Jenny soon found she was remarkably good at it.

"I was taken from my home when I was just five…" one girl shared.

"I was trafficked out of hotels across the state," said a frail boy.

"I was ransomed for a thousand dollars," a girl admitted.

Though their memories were dark, together the girls and boys found a mutual healing that was good for their psyches. Mr. and Mrs. Foxworth were terribly proud of their daughter, and though she was only fourteen, she was already talking about going to college to become a therapist. She wanted to continue using her trauma to help others face theirs.

As for Dodger, he couldn't have been happier living with the Foxworths. In five years, he'd grown a bit fatter and the bones in his arms and legs ached a little bit, reminding him that he was getting on in years. Dodger was eight, going on nine years old now, which was a significant age in dog years. He liked to think of himself as a little bit wiser.

He was content to live with his Nancy babe, his golden girl who only grew more beautiful with each passing year. "I love ya, Nancy. I love ya so much."

"And I love you, Dodger," she giggled, "even if you're going gray."

"I say gray hair makes me look a bit distinguished, don't ya think?"

One fine summer day, they found themselves outside in the warm afternoon air. Now, there were an awful lot of people walking up and down Fifth Avenue, but in front of the Foxworth mansion, people were stopping. "Go ahead, have a look at them!"

Mr. David Foxworth was standing by his front steps, his daughter Jenny beside him. Dodger was at his feet, and Oliver and Adena were on the steps. They stood around a large cardboard box with a sign, in Jenny's handwriting, reading "Kittens need homes."

Three small kittens were rolling around inside, mewing and pouncing on each other. The only boy was a ginger tom, orange all over with tabby stripes. The two girls were a calico with white, black, and orange, and a tortoiseshell with the same colors but muddied together.

"He looks just like you, Ollie," Adena said, nuzzling him and purring.

Oliver licked her cheek. "But our two girls have your colors."

A man with a little girl, who looked younger than Jenny, began talking with Mr. Foxworth. Once he'd learned the kittens had received all their shots already, he agreed to take one for his daughter. She chose the tortoiseshell girl.

Adena looked away as her kitten was adopted. Oliver nuzzled her. "Hey, it's okay. We wanted this for them, remember? They'll have the home we had to wait for."

"I know… but it's hard to say goodbye. I know I'll miss them." She'd spent twelve short weeks with them. Though they no longer drank her milk and were old enough to go home with a family, they were still her babies.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a pampered poodle scoffing from the open window. Georgette was rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't be so sentimental. You can't get attached to people who won't stick around. Why, I've never regretted dumping a single boyfriend!"

Dodger whipped around. "That so, Champ? Then how come ya got pictures of your many, many boyfriends in that shrine ya call a bedroom?"

"She even has a picture of Tito now," Oliver chimed in. "Sometimes after Rex leaves, I'll peek inside and see her hugging his photo and crying, 'Alonzo, I miss you. Alonzo, come back to me.' It's honestly kind of disturbing."

"Lies! All of it, lies!" Georgette stormed off and they didn't see her again that day.

Another family had paused in front of the mansion, and while they were chatting with Mr. Foxworth, their son and daughter were playing with the kittens. After hearing they were free, the family walked away with the calico kitten.

Oliver and Adena watched their son chase his tail around the cardboard box. Looking at his little bro, Dodger knew exactly what was on his mind. He sat beside him on the steps. Dodger held out his paw for a high-five, but Oliver didn't play along.

"He's gonna get a home. Mr. Foxworth ain't leaving till he's adopted, too."

Oliver nodded. They stayed outside for what felt like an hour. Two hours. People came and went, some kids begging their parents for a kitty but were hurried along. Dodger could feel Oliver becoming more nervous with each passerby. Finally, someone stopped.

It was a Chinese woman in business attire with a young son. The boy happily picked up the orange kitten, shouting, "Tiger! Tiger!" until his mother made him be quiet. She explained that years ago, he'd wanted to take home a stray orange cat, but she hadn't let him.

"Then he's all yours." Mr. Foxworth shook her hand, gave her a card for Foxworth Home and the neutering services they offered, and the mother and son left with the last kitten.

Jenny and her dad brought the box inside, and Adena went in after them. Oliver started to follow her through the door, but noticed Dodger was still on the steps. He sat with him. Dodger was looking at the sky. "Is this really our lives now? Still can't believe it, kid."

"I'm a father to three kittens, and you're still calling me kid?"

"I'll call ya kid till my dying breath." Dodger laid back on the steps, and Oliver came over and curled up against him. "It's true though, ain't it? Everything has changed."

"You mean you and Nancy living with us now?" Oliver mewed.

"And tha Company in a cozy house in Brooklyn. Rita and Charlie together, even Tito and Frankie are a happy pair. Tha gang has come a long way since tha day I joined them."

Dodger remembered everything that had happened in his lifetime, all the struggles he had overcome. He could close his eyes and see himself abandoned by his mother in the Bronx on a snowy night. He saw himself playing piano in the basement where he'd grown up. He remembered being taken in by Fagin, named Dodger after the baseball team, and meeting the Company on Fagin's old houseboat.

Then that terrible night that they'd met Roscoe and DeSoto for the first time, when Noah and Charlie and Nancy had quit the gang. He remembered all the times Sykes had threatened Fagin, culminating with Dodger meeting Oliver in the city and the cat following him back to the barge. He remembered losing Oliver to the Foxworths and Jenny getting kidnapped by Sykes, and their dramatic rescue. He even recalled Jenny's eighth birthday party.

After that, he had started visiting Oliver more frequently until his long-lost mother showed up, and he quit the Company himself. He remembered meeting Skippy, then confronting the Purebreds and being introduced to Ruscoe, and being thrown off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Then he'd moved in with Oliver full-time, and what a great time they'd had. Never before had Dodger known such a loving family. He almost hid from the gang war until the Purebreds kidnapped Oliver and lured Dodger to a meeting where he learned his old buddy Noah was the gang's secret leader, and he wanted Dodger to join. They'd barely escaped alive.

He remembered his mother's death after Christmas, at the beginning of the New Year. Dodger had tried escaping into Central Park with Nancy, but finally, he realized he had to fight the Purebreds — and fight he did, until they'd won the war, thanks to Rita's infiltration. At last, they returned home in one piece. And what an adventure it had been.

"We've come a long way," Oliver said. "Both of us with a family who loves us."

"That's life though, things always changing. But ya know what, kid?" Dodger closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of the city, the music of taxi tires spinning and cars honking and people cursing and vendor food steaming. He heard his city most every day. He'd heard her since his puppy days, and he'd hear her till he was gone. "I'm happy they did."

Oliver nuzzled him, purring, and from the front steps, Dodger watched the city he loved living and breathing before his eyes. This was his happily ever after in New York City.

THE END