The familiar metallic scent of blood filled my nose. I woke with a start. The sun baked my fur, and it felt like my paws had melted into the cobblestones.
Urgency struck me. Normally I'd visit the butcher to see what treasures awaited me, but today was different.
I pressed against the door of the house where the family resided. A deep scratch appeared in the wood. They would not be happy about that. But a sinking feeling told me it didn't matter.
I ran to the back of the house, standing on the pile of bricks outside the window so I could see in. Darkness greeted me.
I started racing around the house, barking louder and louder. The neighbors cursed at me, and it was no use anyway. But running helped to silence the flock of birds in my head, at least for a moment.
Curses turned to stones. I collapsed in the driveway.
Memories popped up one by one. The time I jumped up to greet the woman and she dropped the vase of roses she was carrying, the shards spreading across the floor.
The time they were all sitting on the couch and it looked so soft and warm and I jumped up there with them and then the man's mustache began to twitch and his eyes narrowed and he shoved me, hard. When I fell to the floor, I saw the streaks of brown on the cushion where my paws had been.
The time they were holding a baggie, all smiles. I began salivating as they lowered the bag, digging into it. Some sort of jerky. My favorite. But something wasn't right. Too many tendrils? Too salty?
They looked at me expectantly, and I wanted so badly to like it for them. A few more bites, but I couldn't continue. I batted it around with my paw. When their backs were turned, I shoved it under the couch.
Later that night, I heard footsteps approaching. I had dozed off next to the sink.
The woman held the bag, shaking her head. Her mouth was tightly set, her shoulders sunk. She opened the door and motioned for me to leave. I slept outside for the first time.
In the days following, I continued to sleep outside. Twice a day, one of them would set out a bowl, barely looking at me.
I knew I'd wronged them, but I didn't know how to fix it.
Now, a plan came to me. I would get something from the butcher. A gift. Yes, that's it. But how would I give it to them?
These two thoughts went back and forth in my head, like a game of tug of war.
I found myself walking down the street. Flurries of activity surrounded me. Skewers sizzled as feet scattered about, some big, some small.
The air had a melted-butter like sheen. Others like me darted under carts of fish and bread—hoping for scraps, most likely.
But I was more ambitious. I grabbed a whole fish from the top of the cart.
The vendor's face crumpled like a stormcloud, but I scrambled off before the explosion.
I squeezed into an opening in the curb, following it into the narrow, dark depths. Soon, the sounds from the street faded. Rat and fish bones crunched under my feet.
At last, I came face to face with the yellow orbs belonging to Zorica, the white cat residing in these depths who was nearly as big as me. Tusk-like strands of fur surrounded her face and chest, making it appear as if she was engulfed in smoke.
I set the fish before her.
What do you want? she asked me.
But the question was only formality. She knew.
She turned, darting down the tunnel. I followed.
The mouth of the tunnel squeezed in tighter and tighter. For a moment I couldn't breathe.
Then the mouth yawned open. Before me stood a shallow lake. A blue light illuminated the surface.
Zorica sat before the lake, and I did the same.
The surface rippled.
The family appeared before me. They were sitting around a gold table with ornate carvings of leaves and birds in the legs. I had never seen a table like this before. A bowl sat in the middle, a wedge of pineapple balanced perfectly between grapes, strawberries, and raspberries.
I'm sorry, I told them.
But they weren't listening. They didn't seem upset at all, laughing and smiling. Still, I wanted to tell them.
I really liked the jerky, I said. But I had to be honest. I couldn't keep repeating my mistakes. I mean, I like jerky, in general. But that one you got the last time kind of hurt my teeth. That's all. I appreciate you thinking of me.
God, I sounded so pathetic. But I didn't care. I just wanted them to come back. I began to do that thing they liked, where I crouched down real low and wiggled my tail.
The family continued their conversation. A dog—a small, fluffy brown one—came up to the table.
The boy looked down at it with such love that my heart felt like one of those pin cushions. I wanted to be happy for them, but I couldn't. Then the woman began stroking the dog's head, and the pins dug deeper.
Make it stop! I demanded to Zorica.
But this is what you wanted. To see them.
That's not what I meant! I wanted…I searched for the word. To interact.
Too late, she said.
Come on. Don't be this way.
I placed my paw on her massive paw, wincing as it brushed up against her talon-like claws.
I'll get you another fish.
The yellow orbs gave no response.
Two fishes!
I don't grant do-overs. She turned her back, flicking her tail with finality.
I sat before the lake, defeated. The scene continued to play. I stared into it, broadcasting my message. If I just focused hard enough...
I stared at the lake so intently I nearly merged with it. The boy tossed a grape to the dog, who caught it. The whole family laughed, like it was the cutest thing in the world.
More pins sunk into me. A rat began to gnaw at my foot.
Still, I didn't move.
At last the family rose from the table. The man's eyes met mine.
He heard.
Was I just telling myself that?
It didn't matter.
The rat grew still, sitting beside me. We waited for the next scene to unfold.
This is my entry for the contest, A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words.
Describe what you see: I am picturing a small but lively village where the dog lives.
Describe what you feel: Right now the dog is sleeping peacefully, but he is about to get a rude awakening.
