Stray Dog Heights Redux

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

This is an edited version of Stray Dog Heights, one of my early stories. It's been only slightly modified to clean up some errors and mistakes I made when writing the original story. It'll be uploaded in five groups of five chapters each as I finish rereading and editing each group. I have left the original story up for comparison's sake.

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Chapter 1: West

It was a sunny day in Pine Hills, a town about a hundred miles west of the now-famous River Ridge. Not that West noticed. He lingered in the back of the cable car, swaying and bouncing with the motion of the rickety carriage. It had been falling apart for decades, and the city council didn’t care to fix it, but it was the most convenient way to get across town for the Alaskan Malamute. His black and white patterning was mostly covered by his hoodie, red with gray sleeves. He had a faded orange collar with a tag shaped like a compass needle, such as off a map, laying horizontally. This he wore mostly out of habit; the address on the tag hadn’t been accurate for some time. His eyes- one bright blue, the other vivid green- were hooded as he adjusted his big headphones, which were held together with duct tape and had one pad half torn off, to block out more of the annoying squealing of the cable car’s locked left central wheel. Most of the humans couldn’t hear the noise, but it was why babies tended to cry while riding.
He looked up and saw his stop approaching, moving out the back onto the little railed balcony on the back of the car. He stood at the gap in the railing and smoothly stepped off without the car even stopping. It never stopped, not in this part of town. West stuck his hands in his pockets and started strolling down the road, nodding toward a homeless man panhandling on a corner. “Frank.”
The hobo gave him a wave and then resumed ignoring him. About two blocks over, the street vendors began. They didn’t have business licenses or permits, which was why they stayed off the streets that the cops pretended to patrol. West paused, taking a deep breath, then approached one of the vendors. This one smelled good today. “Evening, Cheryl. Just one today, thanks.”
He pulled a crumpled bill out of his pocket and set it on the counter. The woman inside the makeshift booth snatched it up and stuffed it in the till without even checking it, then got busy; onto the sheet of metal heated by a low charcoal flame, she poured a circle of batter, let it cook a few seconds, then flipped it and began topping it with peppers and beef and all sorts of toppings. She chatted while she worked. “You headed home, West? Or gonna hang out and enjoy the night life a while?”
West noted that she added some extra meat to his wrap, and smiled. He knew all the vendors down this street, and they all knew him. He watched her roll the cooked batter and pop it in a paper for him before drizzling it with sauces from the bottles behind the counter, sour cream and hot sauce and creamy aioli. “I gotta be gettin’ home. Inspection today, and I’m still in trouble for missing out from last month.” He reached up and accepted the crepe-like wrap. “Thank you, it smells delicious.”
She waved at him with a greasy hand. “You take care of yourself now, you hear? And remember, come back soon!”
“I will!” He waved at her, walking backward down the street, then flipping around to face front and taking a bite of his food at the same time. The savory beef leaked juices into his mouth, and he groaned appreciatively as he walked, his tail giving a little wag. Cheryl’s booth was always the best early in the month, when she could get fresh stock.
He flipped a coin at another vendor and snatched a bottle of water from the cooler without even stopping, and the vendor waved at him. “Evening, West!” He waved back and tucked the bottle in his pocket. At the end of the block, he turned left and walked into a ruined part of town. Crumbling bricks and condemned buildings snuck in slowly between the inhabited buildings until there were more condemned buildings than inhabited ones. Or, officially inhabited ones. West crumpled up his empty wrapper and tossed it into a trash can as he passed, licking the sauce off his fingers before pulling the water bottle from his pocket and popping the cap.
Empty lots started appearing now as he continued on his way, spots where there used to be buildings but they had either fallen down or been demolished. The streets grew quiet and the gentle smell of building rot filled the air. Finally, West turned right and walked up to a building. A half-crumbled sign in front of it declared that this was the Azure Peaks Condominium complex, but some ages-old graffiti had crossed out the original name and renamed the building “Stray Dog Heights.” The building itself was in surprisingly good repair for the area; crumbled bricks had been removed and replaced with newer ones acquired from somewhere, the brighter color of them popping out like a sore thumb. None of the windows were broken, and the sidewalk had even been kept clear of debris.
West removed a key from his pocket and unlocked the front door, locking it again behind him. The light in the lobby was flickering, just like always. He tossed his empty bottle in the trash can that had been placed by the stairs and started up. There WAS an elevator, but it was unreliable and it stank. Three flights up, West exited the stairs and started down the hall, stopping at the door that used to read 8 but now just had a weird broken number on it, and the number 4B scrawled under in faded marker. He used his key again to unlock the door and let himself in, again pausing to lock it behind him. He’d made the mistake to leave it unlocked once. Not doing that again.
He turned around just on time to have a blur of gray and brown fur hit him full in the chest and grab hold. “WEEEeeeeeEEEEsssssTTT! Did you bring anything to eat? You smell like food! Did you bring me any, huh huh huh?!”
West grunted and pushed the collie mix off of him. He was a head shorter than West, super fluffy, with two hazel eyes, and a worn-thin sweater jacket that he’d seemingly worn every day since moving in. The jacket had once been green, but was now a dingy greenish-gray, and the zipper didn’t work, leaving it permanently zipped. “I told you before, Aspen, get your own food.”
“I did, but I’m still HUNGRYYYY.” He whined up at him for a few moments, then wagged his tail, seeming to forget all about being hungry a second later. “We passed the inspection this month. Clean apartment, no new damage, nothing illegal. So, yay for that, we get to stay another month.”
“How lucky for us,” West mumbled, pushing past him and heading down the hall. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom in this apartment, which was why West was stuck with the perky collie mix as a roommate. There was no rent here, but in exchange they had to keep the apartment clean and he had to share. At least he had his own room.
“Ol’ Agnes wasn’t happy that you weren’t here for inspection… for the fifth time in a row.”
“How unfortunate.” West replied in another mumble before closing his door. He sighed and took off his raggedy headphones, laying them aside and looking at the room. One desk, held upright by virtue of two cinderblocks and a two-by-four; and a basket, proudly declaring on the front that it belonged to Mittens, who had apparently not taken well care of it. The built-in pillow was missing almost all of its stuffing, a chunk of the wicker was missing, and it had been stuffed with ratty blankets to make up for the missing cushioning. West took off his hoodie and his collar with a sigh, laying them on the desk, and flopping over into his basket. Another day of working as a guard dog for a museum on the far end of town, another day of getting way underpaid because he was a dog. He was saving up to get out of here. It was slow going- it had taken him years so far, but it was slowly adding up. He was really close now; his secret stash was getting pretty big.
He rolled over and pulled one of the blankets up to cover himself, staring at the ceiling. He could hear distant sirens outside, but otherwise it was silence as far as his ears could hear. He closed his eyes. Time to sleep.

Chapter 2: Aspen

Aspen yawned and sat up, smacking his lips and looking around. His bed consisted of one big pillow and a blanket made by stitching together parts of torn sweatshirts. The pillow was stuffed with anything soft he’d been able to find; bits of old clothes, upholstery foam rescued from a couch someone had thrown out, the rest of the sweaters he’d made his blanket from. He grabbed his broken old hairbrush and brushed the rats out of his fur, then pulled on his sweatshirt and headed out to the living room dining room combo that was the common area of their apartment. West was sitting at the “table” having a cup of hot water; they didn’t have any coffee, nor any way to make it, so the grumpy malamute liked to pretend.
Aspen looked in the fridge and pulled out the margarine, sniffed the bread to be sure it was okay, and toasted a slice in the one pan they had over the one burner that actually worked reliably. He let the slice of toast hang from his muzzle as he had a seat at the old door that comprised their table, held horizontally by a pair of filing cabinets. One cabinet was taller than the other, so a cinder block made up the difference, making the whole table lean the other way, as it was just slightly too tall. “Good morning,” he spoke cheerfully to West, smirking as the Malamute’s multicolored eyes looked at him with utter contempt.
“Pest.” He grumbled, then looked back down at his cup of water.
West was NOT a ‘mornings’ type of dog.
Aspen smirked at him as he munched his slightly moldy toast. The bigger dog could act cranky all he wanted, but Aspen knew he didn’t dislike him as much as he let on. He finished his breakfast and waved goodbye to West, letting himself out of the apartment and locking the door behind him. It was time to get to work.
Maybe “work” was too strong a word for what Aspen did. He skipped down the street, greeting everybody he met with a grin, and collecting trash. Soda cans, empty food cans, hubcaps- anything made of metal, he scooped it up and stuffed it into a trash bag he clutched in his fist. Soda cans and bottles, he could take to the store and return them for the deposit, if they weren’t too damaged- five cents apiece- and anything too damaged to be scanned could be taken to the recycling center and sold by weight for scrap value. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy a hot meal from a food stand most days.
On this particular day, he found a lot of good stuff; he found dumpsters overflowing with trash bags of cans, discarded soda cans all along the road, and even a few discarded hunks of metal that seemed to be parts of something unidentified. By noon, he was at the recycling yard, getting his pay. It was a particularly large payday today, and he had extra he could put aside for a less prosperous day in the future.
With extra time today, Aspen decided to go down to the pier, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets as he strolled down the boardwalk on the island’s south end. He paused when the path crossed the river, staring at the bridge. His bridge. He turned around with a shudder and went back the other way. He would brave that bridge one day, and see what was on the other side, but not today. Not this time.
His stomach growled. This wasn’t anything new; he was always hungry. It was hard to get food, and he didn’t always get enough money to eat. West would help if he didn’t get food for a day or two, he knew; everybody at Stray Dog Heights knew that West had a pretty sizable stash and delusions that he could get out of the slums if he just saved enough. He was one of the few residents that was able to eat every day, after all.
Aspen gave a sigh and looked at the cash he’d gotten today from selling his scraps of metal. It really wasn’t much, enough for maybe two meals. His stomach growled again, and he looked at the sun. By the time he got back in the general vicinity of home, the food stands would be just setting up for the evening. He turned that way, putting his ears back and giving one last glance at the bridge.
A flash of a memory, of water and stone and cloth, made him flinch as he turned away again. He’d had a rough puppyhood, but then again, who at Stray Dog Heights hadn’t? He started jogging back to the other end of town.
On his way back, Aspen paused and stared in the window of a pet shop at the toys for sale, ropes and bones and squeaky toys, all the things Aspen wished he could have. He put his ears back; sometimes, he wished he could be a normal dog, with a normal home, so he could have nice things like treats and toys. He rubbed his neck where a collar would sit if he had one.
A few blocks over, he stopped and looked down the street. Can’t go that way, animal control is on patrol. Again. He put his ears back and backtracked, going the long way around. He wished he had a collar like West did, so he could pretend to be a pet out on an errand or just hanging out when animal control came by.
Without a collar, he would end up in the pound. For an adult dog, the pound was a one way trip. Even though Aspen wasn’t fully grown, he was too old to really be considered a puppy; he was almost as likely to be stuck at the pound for the rest of his life. He’d barely gone two blocks before he saw animal control again. He backtracked, took another path, and saw animal control AGAIN. Were they FOLLOWING him? He cut through an alley. There they were again. They were definitely following him. He cut back through the alley, then doubled back, darted across the street, and cut through another alley.
After running nearly ten blocks, he looked around for the gray truck. It was nowhere to be found. He heaved a sigh of relief, panting. “Lost ‘em… I hope.”
Nonetheless, he found himself checking over his shoulder every couple minutes as he continued to walk through streets of increasingly worse property. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of the slums started to seep into his senses; malfunctioning sewage systems, mold and mildew, alcohol, urine- most of it human. He didn’t know why humans only marked when they were drunk, but their marking stank terribly.
Before too long, the smells of hot coals and warm metal started drowning out the other smells. He was approaching the street stands, and it smelled like he was right on time for them to start getting warmed up. He wandered the street, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He could smell meat starting to cook, raw batter, vegetables getting sauteed, sauces being mixed. His mouth started to water from just the smells.
He approached his favorite stand, where a squat Japanese man smiled over the counter at him. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer! What can I get you today, Aspen?” He barely had any accent despite being dressed as though he’d just gotten off a plane from some long-forgotten Japanese village. Aspen knew it was just for show.
“Gimme one with the works, extra sauce.” He stood on tiptoe to place his money on the counter. The man counted some out and passed the rest back. That’s what Aspen liked about this man in particular. He was honest, and understood that Aspen was a little weak on how to count money.
“One okonomiyaki with everything, extra sauce, coming right up.” He spoke cheerily, ladling a generous spoonful of a potato and cabbage batter onto the grill, topping it immediately with bacon, fish, crab, green onions, and all kinds of other goodies before flipping it to cook the other side, flipping it again, slicing it, slathering it in a dark sauce and a light sauce in criss-crossing zigzags, and sliding it into a little box not unlike the kind one would find pizza in before passing it to Aspen. “Enjoy, my friend. I hope to see you again soon.”
Aspen thanked him happily and set off, carrying his treasured food. The smell was driving him wild, but he didn’t open the box. Not yet. He carried it all the way home, let himself into the apartment building and then into his own apartment, sitting at the table before he even looked inside. His stomach roared out a protest as he grabbed a fork and a glass of water. Within minutes, the delicious-smelling dish was gone, and he stuffed the empty box into the garbage bin. It didn’t completely fill him up, but it did take the edge off his hunger. He smiled happily and sat back to wait. His best friend wouldn’t be home for another half hour or so.
When he heard the key in the lock, he got excited. West was home! He waited for the door to open, then took off running across the room, glomping onto him and giving him a great BIG hug just as he turned around. “Wweeeeesssssstt! Did you bring me any food? You smell like food, did you bring me any?”
His tail wagged eagerly as he continued with their usual routine, begging for food just as he got home, asking how his day was, and watching him go straight to bed. West didn’t talk much, and he got the sense that he usually liked his personal space, but he didn’t REALLY seem to mind Aspen’s daily hug. Not as much as he used to, anyway.
Once West was in bed, Aspen’s forced smile fell, and he sighed. He put on the perky act for West and for others, but he didn’t really feel it. Why SHOULD he be perky? He just knew that pretending to be happy made others happy, and who was he to keep that from them? If he could bring someone happiness by such a simple thing as forcing a smile, shouldn’t he?
He put his ears back and turned off all the lights before going to bed himself. He lay down on his pillow stuffed with random soft junk, pulled his hand-stitched blanket over himself, and closed his eyes. Another day down, only a few thousand to go.

Chapter 3: Patch

Patch purred in his sleep, his tail waving high in the air. The shorthair cat rolled over and sat up, his green eyes drooping as he climbed out of his box. He yawned and stretched, his fangs glistening in the daylight from the window. His yellow-orange striped fur glistened as he brushed through it with his fingers, and he smoothed out his headfluff.
He looked in the fridge and sighed. Still nothing in there. He went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Still ruggedly handsome; the dark patch over his left eye really brought out the poverty in his face. After drinking a few glasses of water to trick his belly into thinking he’d eaten, he tossed a raggedy satchel on his shoulder. “Well… time to get to work.”
Hungry as he was, Patch briefly considered risking the elevator, but given how unreliable it was, he decided to take the stairs instead. He popped into the common area lounge- because sometimes there was food there- and smiled at his neighbors, who were using the TV there. “Oh, hi West, Aspen. Any snacks in here today?”
West shook his head, huffing and trying to get Aspen out of the chair he was already using. It was always funny watching them; West enjoyed his personal space, and Aspen also enjoyed West’s personal space. “Not today. Been a bit slow the past few weeks. Nobody has extra to share.”
Patch considered bringing up West’s stash of savings, but decided against it. No sense angering him. He wouldn’t give extra because he was asked, but would occasionally if enough people were having trouble feeding themselves. He was a gruff dog, but he did care about his neighbors.
“Well… all right. I’m heading out to see if I can scrounge anything up. Enjoy your day off.” Patch turned to leave. West was, as far as he knew, the only resident of thirty-six at Stray Dog Heights to have an ACTUAL job; everybody else scraped by on scraps they could find or odd jobs they could do.
Aspen called after him in his usual chipper voice. “Okay, have fun! Be careful, I was followed by animal control yesterday.”
Patch left the building and caught the cable car uptown. He couldn’t pay the fare, so he had to duck low so the operator didn’t see him. Not that the operator normally cared. It was more like a game.
He jumped off on the business strip and immediately made his way to the back alley, jumping up on the fence and balancing there as he walked along it, sniffing in the direction of the various dumpsters. When he found one that smelled serviceable, he jumped over and popped the lid, peeking inside. The bag on top of food waste was still warm; he cracked it open with a claw and started loading up his bag. After a few moments, his ear twitched as he heard the restaurant’s back door open, and he jumped to dodge the thrown rock, landing back on the dumpster, slamming the lid, and jumping back to the fence and over as the restaurant employee shouted angrily at him.
He looked inside his bag. He’d gotten a little, but not much. He sighed and leaned against the fence. Every week it seemed to get harder to get food. The slums were slowly inching across the town, taking out more and more businesses, while the city council refused to spend any money to fix anything at all. Even the cable car, beloved by most of the city, was on its last legs. One of the wheels in the center had been stuck for months, causing a high-pitched squealing noise.
Patch scoffed and climbed back up onto the fence, walking down the row of backdoors until he found another serviceable dumpster. This was going to take all day.

Patch jumped onto the cable car tram and peeked into his bag. Even after scrounging all day, it was barely half full. He could never seem to get more than a few seconds at a dumpster before getting caught and chased off.
When he jumped off again at the proper location, he looked around nervously. He’d seen an animal control truck a few blocks away, and was worried they might be headed this way. He rushed home quickly, taking alleys and avoiding the street as much as possible. He walked in the front door and dumped what food he had managed to get on a table in the lounge. He snatched up a fistful and hollered out. “Come and get it, I got food!” He jumped back as twenty-odd dogs and five other cats seemed to come out of the woodwork. If you yelled loud enough in the lounge, you could hear it in every apartment in the building, so it made sense.
As the animals milled around with their fistfuls of cold food, they chatted to one another. “This isn’t living.” One bulldog said to his neighbor. “It’s barely surviving. Every minute is focused on finding food to eat, avoiding the dogcatcher, and trying not to get sick, because none of us can afford the vet.”
Patch thought about this for a few moments. He was right. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been worried about where his next meal was coming from. He stuffed the last of his food in his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing with a sigh.
He went down the hall to the administrative office, where the building’s only human resident, Old Agnes Westlake, lived. She was the owner of the building and did most of the maintenance, and decided who could live there. He knocked on the door. “Ms. Agnes?”
When there wasn’t an answer after a few moments, he opened the door and looked inside. “Ms. Agnes? It’s Patch. The ginger cat from 4C?” The office was empty, so he moved through and knocked on the door to the apartment. “Ms. Agnes?”
Still no answer. He tried the knob. It was unlocked, so he let himself in. “Ms. Agnes, I need to talk to you…” He wrung his hands nervously as he wandered in. Nobody was really supposed to be here. Especially uninvited.
As Patch wandered through the apartment, he mumbled out apologies for intruding on her space. Agnes could be cranky if she wanted to be. She wasn’t in the living room, or the kitchen. He opened the door to the bedroom and peeked inside. Ms. Agnes was in bed. He started to close the door, thinking he could come back later, then paused. Something wasn’t right. Ms. Agnes NEVER went to bed this early. And the air in here smelled… off.
He slowly opened the door and approached. “... Ms. Agnes?” He grabbed her hand, then gasped and jumped back as his stomach flipped. He almost lost his lunch. She was cold, stone cold. With a shaky hand, he reached out again, touched her hand. He watched her carefully. She wasn’t breathing.
“Ms. Agnes?!” He yowled desperately. “Th-this isn’t funny.. Wake up, PLEASE wake up!”
He shook her a little. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He put his ears back and backed away. “N-no… not Ms. Agnes..” His eyes stared wide at the old woman as he backed out of the room. He could feel rising panic in his belly. If Ms. Agnes was… then who would take care of the building? Who would do the inspections?
What would happen to the building? The RESIDENTS?! He fumbled for the phone in Ms. Agnes’s living room. He dialed the emergency number. “H-hello, I’m at Stray- er… the old Azure Skies Condominium complex. The landlady, I went into her apartment to talk to her- I, uh… I think she’s….”
He paused and swallowed. The word caught in his throat. He tried again.
“She’s dead.”

Chapter 4: Worry

Thirty-five pairs of eyes watched the ambulance drive off with Agnes. They watched from windows, the roof, the alley, and the yard. The air was tense. As soon as the ambulance was gone, all the tenants gathered in the lounge, all talking over one another.
“Who’s going to take care of the building?”
“Who’s gonna pay the bills?”
“What’s going to happen to us?
“Are we all going to lose our homes?”
West scowled. He tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide, and spoke, louder than anybody there had ever heard him speak. “QUIET!”
A silence fell over the room. All eyes slowly turned to him as he climbed up on the table and looked down at everybody. Thirty dogs. Five cats. All freshly living alone in a building with no humans. He opened his mouth. “We are all going to be JUST FINE. As long as we live here, the council can’t bulldoze the building. Unfortunately, we’re all animals. We have no rights. They CAN, and probably WILL, try to evict us.”
A murmur went up among the residents, and West glared until it fell quiet again. “We need to make extra sure that we keep all the doors into the building locked at all times. Those paramedics just saw all of us in here, and they’re probably going to try to call animal control to clear the building. Even if they don’t, the humans are going to try to reclaim the building. Does anybody know if Agnes had a will, any family?”
There was a general uncertain murmur. Nobody seemed to know much about Agnes aside from that she had let them live there. He sighed. “All right. There’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Get some sleep, and don’t go out unless you have to tomorrow, until we know what’s going to be going on.” He climbed down off the table and pushed his way out of the group, toward the stairs.
Aspen followed him, waiting until they were out of earshot before he spoke. “West, what are we going to do? You know just as well as I do, they’re going to throw us out on the street… I can’t go back to living on the street, I just CAN’T…”
“I’m not going to let that happen.” He didn’t even look back. “I can’t go back, either. I refuse to.” He unlocked their door and let Aspen in first. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going out to look for somewhere else we can stay.”
“But what about-”
“Face it, Stray Dog Heights is over. We’re done, finished, ended. There’s nothing we can do. It’s only a matter of time before the humans start picking us off and either shipping us off to the pound, or worse.” He slammed his fist sideways into the wall and said a series of rude words, then paused to unlock the door to their apartment. “I was so CLOSE. Just a couple more months, and I would have…” He trailed off and stomped off to the kitchen for some water.
Aspen followed, watching his friend. Was he… angry? “... West, I-”
“I can’t believe it happened AGAIN. I trusted a human to give me a safe place to live, and they, they… GRRR!” He gave a frustrated growl and slammed his cup on the counter. “They leave, they DIE, they just up and DISAPPEAR…” He mumbled to himself as he stormed off to his room. “Good night.” He slammed the door.
Aspen watched him go. He didn’t know how West had come to live here, but he knew he’d had a human, once. His collar that he still wore was proof of that. Sometimes, Aspen wondered if he expected his human to show back up one day, take him home, and things could go back to how they’d been.
He sighed and went to his own room. His mind was full of worries. What would happen if they got evicted? What would happen if they got separated? He flopped onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling. His mind wouldn’t stop racing. All his friends were here. Everybody he knew lived in this building. What would happen to them?
Across the hall, in his own room, West curled up in his basket, holding his knees and staring through watery eyes at his collar, hanging on the basket’s edge. It was happening again. This always happened to him. He would find a place, get comfortable, finally start thinking about opening up, and then the place would be pulled out from under him. He forced the tears back down. Forced his face back to deadpan. It didn’t help the last three times. Why should it help now?
In the next apartment across the hall, Patch shuddered quietly to himself. He’d touched her. He’d touched a dead body. Gross.
He tried not to think about it, but he was also worried about what was coming next. With Agnes gone, the fate of the whole building was uncertain. Some of the residents had lived here for years; where would they go? He sighed. The worst part was not knowing.

The air was tense in the lounge the next morning. Residents chattered urgently to each other, trying to figure out next steps. Everybody looked exhausted. It looked like nobody had gotten any sleep. West watched a group walk out together with their stuff in bags. He sighed, then left himself. As he walked to the tram, he kept an eye out for places that looked like he could get in. Some of the ruined buildings looked promising. He really wasn’t looking forward to returning to life on the streets. Again.
He didn’t even stop at his usual corner shop to get breakfast. He wasn’t hungry. He sat at work in his usual security chair, doing his usual job of being bored since nobody bothered to rob a museum with no valuables in it, then started off home again. Instead of walking straight home, he investigated a couple of the buildings he’d noted that morning. One was already inhabited; another was in too bad of shape to make a good home. The third didn’t seem to have any way in.
West gave a hopeless sigh and went home. Aspen didn’t greet him with his usual enthusiasm today. He just met him at the door, looked at him for a few moments, then hugged him. West opened his mouth to tell him off, then hesitated, closed his mouth, and hugged back, closing his eyes. A little sob slipped out despite his efforts to choke it back. “What are we going to do, Aspen? I can’t go back to the streets. Not again.”
Aspen let his hands rub up and down West’s back, an imitation of a petting motion. That was how humans showed dogs affection, wasn’t it? He didn’t know. He thought it might be, though it had been a long time and he had been very young. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. We’ll be fine.” He was surprised. Normally, West did his best not to show emotion. To see him let even a little bit out seemed out of character, odd. It scared him a little. If the stress was cracking West’s carefully crafted exterior, what was it doing to the other residents?
“We lost ten today. They left to find someplace else. I can… move into one of their apartments, if you…”
“Don’t you dare.” He sniffled a bit and let go, putting his face back on. “Besides, there’s no point moving the arrangement around now. Not with the future uncertain. We have a few days before anything’s gonna happen. Let’s just… make the best of it.”
Aspen blinked at him as he walked away. There were a few things he’d noticed: First, West didn’t smell like food today. He always smelled like food when he got home, because he always stopped at a street stall. This meant he hadn’t eaten, probably all day. Second, that was the closest he’d ever come to admitting he didn’t mind his presence. And thirdly, West was probably the most upset of anybody.

Chapter 5: New Landlord

It was a full, tense week before anything else came of Agnes’s passing. The twenty-five remaining residents stayed in as much as possible, watching nervously for the animal control trucks to start pulling in. But there were no trucks, no police, no anything, until a red sports car suddenly pulled into the dilapidated parking lot and parked next to Agnes’s little brown sedan. A man got out and kicked the sedan’s tires, talking angrily into a cell phone. After a few moments, he started walking toward the building, looking over it distastefully.
He jammed a key in the door and jerked it open, leaving it unlocked behind him, still talking loudly on his phone. “Yeah, I’m just walking in now. Ugh- the place reeks of dogs.” He looked around, his short brown hair neatly combed back. He stared at the few residents that happened to be in the lounge, which opened onto the lobby. He gave a little shriek, jumping back, then regained his composure. “No, the place is FULL of them. I’m looking at… five, six just kind of hanging out and loitering right now.” He turned and walked into the administrative office, slamming the door behind him.
After a few moments, the chatter started loudly.
“Who is he?”
“Is he the new landlord?!”
“He’s here to kick us out!”
Someone ran upstairs to alert the other residents that were home at the moment as the chatter rose to a more panicked pitch. The office door popped open, and the man shouted. “Hey! Shut up out here! I’m on the phone!”
The chattering stopped for a few moments, then picked back up again, a little quieter. Nobody knew who this man was, why he was here, or what was happening. He was in the office for what seemed like hours. Almost everybody was back by the time he came back out. He stood there and looked at the residents with obvious distaste.
“All right, I don’t know if this is everybody, and I really don’t care. If there’s somebody not here, you can go ahead and tell them what I’m about to say when they get back.” He looked around, waiting for the whispering to stop before clearing his throat to cut it off. “My name is Charles Westlake. You will call me Mr. Westlake. I am the new owner of the building. I inherited it from my Great Aunt Agnes for some reason. I don’t know why, I only met the hag twice, and not for decades. Anyway, a condition of the will is I can’t sell the building while you guys are still living here, and I can’t just evict you. I haven’t figured out a way around it yet, but I WILL. I don’t want to be stuck doing maintenance on this crappy, run-down condo complex for a bunch of animals for the rest of my life, and the developers are offering literal millions for the land this building is standing on. That is all.”
Charles looked around at his new tenants, then turned and stormed back into the office. Apparently, he wasn’t accepting questions. There was a collective sigh of relief. They weren’t getting kicked out. At least, not yet.
Patch frowned. He didn’t like this guy, and apparently he didn’t like them. This was not good news for the future of Stray Dog Heights. He headed upstairs and knocked on the door of 4B. West opened the door, and Patch spoke. “... New owner just made an announcement. Basically, he can’t evict us right away, but he’s looking for a way around that.”
West let him in with a stressed-out sigh. “This has been a disaster. It’s been too long since I’ve had to find shelter on the street. I’m out of practice. If we lose this place, I’m not sure what any of us are going to do.”
Aspen looked over from where he was throwing a pencil at the ceiling in the living room. “We’ll figure something out, Westie. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t call me Westie. Maybe I can convince my boss to give me a raise. If I can just save up a little more, maybe… I don’t know, we can buy some tents and set up in a vacant lot or… something.” West groaned and banged his head on the wall. “This is awful. Everything is horrible. We’re all getting thrown back out on the streets and taking that one way car ride to the pound.”
Patch groaned. “Don’t say that… I can’t go back to the pound again. If I turn up there again they’re gonna send me straight down the hall to the euthanasia lab. Again. And I’m not sure I can talk them out of it a fifth time.”
“Guys, relax. It’s not the first time we’ve been thrown onto the street. We survived then, we’ll survive this time.” Aspen tossed his pencil at them. “We just need to stick together, that’s what I always believed.”
Patch rolled his eyes. “You’re scared to go over bridges, how are YOU going to survive on the streets? We live on an island, animal control is gonna corner you SO EASILY.”
Aspen stuck his tongue out at Patch, and the two ended up rolling on the ground, wrestling playfully.
West rolled his eyes. “You two, you’re SO mature. Can we focus? I figure we’ve got at MOST a month before this guy figures out how to get rid of us without violating the will, and I’d like to have found another place to live before that. All of the nearby buildings are either occupied, condemned, or both, so we can’t live here on the north end. We’ll have to check the south end and west side for any abandoned buildings we can get into. If we can’t find that… maybe it’ll be better to skip town, try to make it to the next one.” He stared thoughtfully at the map he had fished out of the garbage behind a travel agency.
Aspen’s head popped up and he looked at the map. Their island was shaped like a cigar, bisected by a canal that ran through the park in the center. “Skip town? As in, cross the big bridges? Sorry, no can do. Out of the question, no way.”
“We might not have any other choice. Unless you wanna try your hand at the pound. I’m sure YOU will be the ‘collar’ part of ‘nobody leaves the pound except in a box or a collar.’” West tapped the map with Aspen’s thrown pencil. “Face it, humans like puppies. They don’t like full-grown dogs like me, or adult cats like Patch. TRUST ME, I know.” He circled the dump. “Here, Aspen, you scope the area around the dump. Maybe there’s some hidey-holes we can take over. That way you can just check when you go there to sell your scrap, and they won’t think much of it. They know you there. I’ll check the west side. It’s closest to the museum, so I can scope it out after work. Patch, you check the south end. You’ll be down there anyway scrounging for food. If you find any empty dumpsters, let us know. That usually means a building’s been abandoned, and we can break in and set up camp.”
“I’m not a puppy! I’m practically an adult!” Aspen protested.
“You’re young enough that the humans won’t see it that way.” West sighed and looked around at the apartment. “I’m sure gonna miss this place. Been home nearly five years now, ever since my last family… well, you know.”
Patch leaned over the map and pointed. “What about the east side? Why aren’t we checking there?”
Aspen groaned. “The east side faces the open lake. It’s where all the ships and fishermen live. Way too busy, smells like fish all the time, and it’s already been claimed by that big gang of dogs.”
“The Eastern Brigade. They’re all bigger than us, and mean as can be. They don’t just fight if they catch you on their turf, they’ll leave you dead in the street. Don’t go over there under any circumstances.” West crossed out the east side of the island on the map, drawing a line down the roads that marked the edge of the territory. “Any questions?” He looked around for a moment, then nodded when both of his friends seemed to understand. “Good.”

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 6: Westlake

Charlie gave a frustrated grunt as he rifled through the files in the cabinet. “Come on, old woman, didn’t you keep ANY recent records?” He pulled out another stack. Human tenants, from thirty years ago. Useless. Into the garbage they go.
He could hear those animals chattering away out in the lobby. He scowled. He hated dogs, hated cats more, and didn’t understand why Agnes had left him an old condo building that had been converted into a homeless shelter for them. He opened up the last drawer in the filing cabinet. Twenty-year-old records of a family selling their condo to Agnes to get out of the building. From the looks of the surrounding area, this had been the slums even then, and nothing had gotten better.
He tossed the last of the files into the garbage. No wonder the drawers had been stiff, they hadn’t been opened in decades. Charles sighed and let his head drop onto the desk with an empty-sounding thud. “Ugh… I can’t believe this… Those mutts better not be touching my car…”
After a few moments, he stood up and went into the apartment. Trash bags stood everywhere and most of the decor had already been removed- stuffed into said trash bags. The place had been heavily decorated in gaudy, worthless figurines and paintings- they looked expensive, but a quick search on his phone had proved them worthless. He had thrown them all away. He stared at the bed and shuddered. No way he was sleeping in THAT, not until he’d gotten the mattress swapped out. That was the bed she’d died in.
Charlie grabbed a fresh bag from the box of trash bags he’d found in the kitchen and started going through a box of files he’d pulled from the bedroom closet. Most of it was junk, manuals for refrigerators and dishwashers and other appliances. One file had his name on it, and only had a sealed envelope, also labeled with his name, and a few photographs from when he was a little boy and had met Agnes. He frowned at the envelope and opened it. It was a handwritten letter, yellowing at the edges. It read:

“My Dearest Charles;
If you are reading this, it means that I have died, and you have been left the building in which I lived the latter years of my life with the tenants I chose to allow to live there: The stray dogs and cats of the city.
I’m sure you are confused as to why I would leave you of all people such a place, knowing that you don’t much care for animals. Or perhaps by now you’re over that. I may not ever know.
I left you that building simply BECAUSE you do not care for dogs and cats. I consider that to be a fairly horrible stance to have, as if you let them, these animals will give you as much love as they have left to give.
I guarantee that right now, the tenants are probably scared and confused. Some of them are probably even looking for someplace else to go, if they haven’t left already. They won’t find it. The only other place they can go is the pound, and most of them would never come back out again.
Please don’t kick out my darlings or sell my building to that nasty developer person. Take care of the building, and the sweet little angels I have living there with me. Some of them are broken inside, and just need a little love and care.
I hope you learn to love them as I loved them.
With all my love,
Great Auntie Agnes.”

Charles scoffed as he read the letter. “Crazy old biddy.” He tossed it on the keep pile. Maybe he could use it to prove Agnes was crazy and contest the will.
About an hour later of stuffing his great aunt’s belongings into trash bags, Charles sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He needed a shower. After ten minutes standing outside the shower, waiting for the water to heat up, he turned it off. Great. The water heater must be broken. With a grumble, he grabbed the toolbox he’d found and stomped off to the boiler room.
It only took fifteen minutes of tinkering and looking things up on his phone for Charles to figure out the problem with the boiler. He loosened this, tightened that, and flipped the gas back on. The pilot light flickered to life, and the boiler started purring like a kitten. He gave a self-satisfied nod and wiped his hands on a rag to get some of the grease off. “That ought to do it…” he checked around and looked for anything obvious that also needed fixing, while he was filthy, then closed the door to the boiler room.
He carried the toolbox back toward the administrative office, whistling to himself and giving a little wave at a dog he passed in the hall. He paused, then took a few steps backward. There was a pool. He stepped inside. The pool was empty, but clean. He took out his keys and went back to check the filtration system. It was a little dusty, and needed cleaning out, but it seemed to be in working order. There were even boxes of the necessary chemicals stored neatly in the corner. He ran back to the office and grabbed a trash bag, dumping the dried-up gunk out of the filters and scrubbing them in the sink. He was glad for his certification in mechanical systems from his youth, before he’d gotten his degree. It was all coming back to him already.
He popped in some fresh filters and flipped the switches to start filling the pool, carefully dumping a measure of the chemicals into the empty pool basin, putting his hands on his hips. This WAS his pool now, after all. He might as well fill it up and use it. He grinned, looking around, then grabbed a broom and cleared out the cobwebs. It looked like this pool had been disused for quite some time. Probably, Agnes was just too old and arthritic to actually keep up with the maintenance, so she had shut it down.
He whistled to himself and waved at another dog on his way back to his apartment. The hot water would be ready by now. He barely noticed that the dog glared over his shoulder at him.
The shower was excellent. As he washed off the grease from a job well done, he thought about his now-ruined casual clothes that he had been wearing. They were covered in grime that would NEVER come out. He had more, and they weren’t particularly expensive, but he didn’t really want to ruin more. He would run to the store later, and get some cheap clothes that he didn’t mind if they got stained, just in case there was more work that needed to be done around the building.
In the meantime, he put on the only other clothes he had and exited the administrative office, feeling almost cheery. He had plenty of money; he was a big-time businessman, for crying out loud. His business could run almost entirely without him, and he would still make lots of money off it. So why shouldn’t he fix the place up? Maybe he could let humans move back in, and start charging them rent.
He stopped in the big common room that appeared to be an old cafe that had been shut down, and was now being used as a media room by the residents. The sight of the run-down booths, still vaguely in a restaurant-like arrangement, reminded him that he hadn’t eaten yet today. He frowned, considering. Most of the animals here didn’t look like they’d eaten in a while; many of them were so thin he could make out their rib cages without too much difficulty. He wanted them out, but he would feel terrible if they starved to death on his watch. He considered what he could do about it.
He stopped a cat, a gray tabby, and knelt to get face-to-face with her. “Hey, I’m thinking about treating everybody to some pizza tonight. Do you happen to know how many live here?”
The cat seemed a bit nervous to be talking to him. “How many? Um… Let’s see… there were thirty-five, two to an apartment, with one apartment only having one… but ten left when Agnes… left. So… I think twenty-five… But West on the fourth floor eats before he gets home from work, so he probably won’t want any… and if Patch or Cally find any food, some of us will probably have eaten by then, they like to share what they find…”
Charles ruffled the cat’s messy headfluff. “Thanks… uh… what’s your name?”
The cat stepped back away from his reach nervously, trying to smooth out her fluff before answering. “My name’s… uh… Alice, Mr. Westlake.”
He smiled, trying to seem less threatening. “You know what? Go ahead and call me Charlie.”


Chapter 7: Effort Given

Cheryl passed West his wrap and smiled kindly at him. “Here you go, sweetie. I’m sorry to hear about Agnes. You doing okay?”
West hesitated, sniffing his wrap. It smelled so good. “We’re all pretty nervous. The new landlord turned up the other day, and he kinda seems… how do I put this nicely? … Like a dingus. Not very nice at all. Openly said that the only reason he’s not kicking us out is because it would be a violation of the will and he would lose the property back to Agnes’s trust.”
Cheryl sighed. “I’m not sure why Agnes would leave the building to someone like that. She was a sweetheart, always helping around the neighborhood whenever she could, as long as I can remember. We’re all going to miss her.”
West nodded. “Yeah… I’m gonna miss her, too.”

When West got home, the first thing he noticed was an unusual smell. He frowned and followed his nose down the hallway. The smell got stronger, chemical and clean. He’d never smelled anything here that smelled like it was clean. He passed doors that used to lead to community benefits: an abandoned gym, an empty conference room, the pool- he paused. Was that running water? He backed up and looked into the pool room. He goggled. The pool was filling up. He opened the door and walked in. This was it, this was where the smell was coming from.
He watched the water rise for a few moments. The pool had always been empty, as long as he could remember. Agnes had said that the pumps and filter worked, but she just couldn’t do the maintenance on the system anymore, with her arthritis. He’d never thought he would see it functioning again, especially given the state of the surrounding area. Finally, he turned and left the room. If Mr. Westlake was putting in effort to fix the place up, then maybe he wouldn’t be tearing it down after all.
He started up the stairs toward his apartment with a sigh. Yeah, right. Like any human would want to share with a bunch of strays. He probably only filled the pool so he could use it himself, and they’d find the door locked whenever he wasn’t in there. He grumbled to himself as he unlocked the door to his apartment.
The expected hug hit him right as he turned around again, and Aspen grinned up at him. “You have GOT to see this.” He led him to the sink and turned on the water.
“... Water.” West blinked at it. “Just like the water that ALWAYS comes out of the pipes. What am I- OUCH that’s hot!” Aspen had grabbed West’s hand and stuck it under the running water. After a moment, West blinked. “Wait… it’s hot. The heater’s running again? I thought Agnes couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it.”
Aspen grinned. “Well, apparently Charles figured it out and got it working again. I took a hot shower and it was AMAZING.”
West turned off the water and watched a little steam rise from the sink. The hot water had broken only a few weeks after he’d moved in. Agnes had gone into the boiler room to tinker with it from time to time, but had never managed to figure out how to get it working again. And since she didn’t charge rent and wasn’t made of money, she had never been able to afford to hire somebody, so everybody had just gotten used to cold showers.
“He got the pool filter working again, too. The pool’s filling up, you can smell it from the lobby.” He said thoughtfully. Could Charles be putting in actual EFFORT to make the place nice again? “I think… he’s planning on getting real tenants in here, that actually pay rent. I bet he starts trying to charge us rent.”
Aspen put his ears back. “Charge us rent?! But most of us don’t even have money, or any way to get it. I can barely find enough scrap to get money to feed myself! And the cats- well, not Socks or Cookie, but most of the cats just scrounge food directly, they can’t get money! There’s only so many places that’ll pay for mousers when they can just adopt a cat and have THEM do it.”
West nodded. “I don’t trust him. I mean, it’s POSSIBLE he only did it for his own comfort. Most humans are accustomed to warm showers and enjoy a swim, after all.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “We’ll just have to wait and see. He’s pretty abrasive.”
Aspen sighed and sat at the table, where half his supper was still sitting. “You really have trust issues when it comes to humans, don’t you? Why can’t you just believe he’s doing all that stuff because he likes us?”
“Because no human ever did anything because they liked me- I mean, dogs. Humans only ever do anything for themselves.” West grunted and started pulling off his hoodie. “I’m gonna go enjoy the hot water before he figures out how to restrict it to just his apartment.” He stalked off to the bathroom, fidgeting with his collar to try and get it off.
Aspen watched him go, contemplating West’s attitude on humans. He knew it had something to do with why West had a collar-he’d had a family once, he knew, but West didn’t like to talk about his past, so that was all Aspen knew about it. He sighed and went across the hall, knocking on the door. “Hey, Patch, you in?”
The ginger cat opened the door and peeked out, then opened it wider to let him in. “Hey. Any luck today, finding a place to live?”
Aspen shook his head. “Nothing. But the hot water’s up and running. First time since I’ve lived here. Maybe we won’t have to move at all.”
Patch tilted his head. “Why would he fix the water if he’s planning on selling the place to land developers? Why would he fill the pool? Maybe he’s changed his mind. Maybe he wants to stay.”
There was a pause. “Why would he put in effort if he hasn’t decided to stay? After all, this place is basically free housing for him.” Aspen wagged his tail a little. “And maybe since he’s staying, we can all stay! And we’ll become friends, and-”
There was a knock at the door, and Patch answered it. He spoke to whoever it was, then turned around and called into the apartment. “Hey, Cally! New landlord has pizza in the lounge for anybody who wants it! I’m headed down for a slice.”
A female voice called back from one of the bedrooms. “You go ahead, I’ll be down later.”
Aspen grinned. “See? Why would he do something nice like that unless he was changing his mind about trying to get rid of us?” He followed Patch downstairs and into the lounge. Charles was nowhere to be seen, but there was a stack of seven pizza boxes on the central table. That still worked out to, if everybody was eating, three or four residents splitting a pizza, and it was really cheap pizza from a restaurant famous for having pizzas ready to go, but to the residents who usually had to find their own food, it was a feast.
Aspen grabbed a slice and took a bite out of it, groaning happily. Patch nearly moaned. Food. Hot, FRESH food. It was a real rarity for him, and he enjoyed every greasy bite.
West leaned against the doorway and watched the residents go to town, emptying four of the pizza boxes in minutes. He scowled and turned around, walking across the lobby and banging on the door to the administrative office before opening it, not even waiting for a response. Charles was sitting at Agnes’s desk, a paper plate with a couple slices of pizza sat in front of him and a laptop off to the side. He looked up in surprise. “Um… Hello.”
“What are you trying to pull? First you say you’re gonna find a way to get rid of us, and then you start putting in actual effort to make the place nicer? And you’re FEEDING us?” West snarled and sneered at the human. He smelled like cleaner, grease, and soap. He looked him over. He was dressed in what appeared to be a brand-new bargain-bin tee shirt and jeans.
“The place is nice. I was considering moving in here myself.” He closed the laptop and looked at him. “I’m Charlie. You are…?”
West slapped the desk, leaving behind a stack of bills from his stash. “... For the pizza. I don’t want anybody here to owe you anything. You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of us, HUMAN.” He turned and slammed the door.
Charlie sighed and leaned back in his chair. This dog wasn’t the first resident to ask him what he was up to. He wasn’t sure himself. At first, he’d just wanted to get the place emptied so he could sell it and get back to his life, albeit quite a bit richer. But the longer he spent here, and the more stuff he fixed, the more attached to it he felt. He supposed it was something along the lines of the sunken cost fallacy; the more time and effort put in, the more he wanted to finish what he’d started.
He watched the door for a moment longer, then opened the laptop and continued his calculations. The carpets in the hallways and lobby definitely needed to be replaced, cleaners hired to get the kitchen back up and running, inspectors paid to check for mold and structural integrity… he punched some more numbers into the calculator application, and sighed. It was a lot. Really a lot. He flipped over to the webpage he had open and typed in the number he’d gotten, rounded up to the nearest thousand. Then he leaned back and stared at it. “The Agnes Westlake Home for Homeless Pets” nonprofit page shined back at him from the prototype webpage window. He checked all the links one more time, then clicked on “publish.” He waited for it to load and looked at the brand-new website with a smile.
After a few moments, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Hey, Barbara, it’s me. Listen, there’s a nonprofit I want to start pushing through our advertising department in the areas around where I am.”


Chapter 8: Hydrophobia

Charlie looked at the test strip, checking it against the container, then smiled. Just right. He stood up and looked around at the pool room. The cobwebs had been removed, the floors swept, and a few lawn chairs added. The water was clear, slightly blue, and sparkled in the light from the freshly cleaned windows. He could smell the chemicals in the water, ready to go.
He headed down the hall to the lounge and clapped his hands to get the attention of everybody there. “Attention, everybody. The pool is now open and ready to use. Please, shower in your apartments and remove any excess shedding fur before going in, in order to keep the pool clean. Too much fur in the water will clog the filters. Thank you.” He went to his office to make a sign restating his request: Shower and brush your fur before getting in the pool so you don’t clog the filters with your shedding.

A few days later, Aspen grabbed onto West as he left the apartment, grinning as he hung on him. “Where we going, bestie? It’s your day off, you don’t have to worry about home searching today.”
West shrugged and held up his towel. “I thought I’d try the pool.”
Aspen paled. “Oh… okay, I’ll just-”
Patch grabbed him from behind. “Aww, come with, it’ll be fun. You can just hang out with us. Look, I found a ball the other day, we can toss it around in the pool!” He purred and held up the ball in question. It looked like some kid had lost it over a fence ten years ago, and then been dug up and scrubbed clean in the sink. It still had air in it, at least.
West glanced at it. “Nice. Come on, to the pool.”
Aspen sputtered and tried to protest, but since he couldn’t squeeze past Patch to get back, he was swept along down the stairs. “B-but- wait, I- I didn’t bring- I don’t have a towel!” He managed eventually, trying to get a word in between the idle chatter.
Patch grinned at him and held up his fist with two towels in it. “This may have been premeditated between the two of us. West knew you’d follow him out the door. You always do.” He tugged at Aspen’s jacket playfully. “It’ll be good for you to get in the water. You’ll be fine.”
Aspen sputtered some more as he was steered down the hall. The smell of the pool water kept getting stronger, and he put his ears back. “Come on guys, you KNOW I can’t.”
West put a hand on Aspen’s back and turned him to enter the pool room. There were a couple others in there, but it wasn’t busy at all. “Yes, you can. And you WILL, you little pest.”
Aspen put his ears back and gave a little whimper as they claimed a lawn chair, laying their towels down. West took off his hoodie and collar, then nudged Aspen. “Come on, jacket off. Let’s go…” He grabbed the sleeve of Aspen’s jacket and tugged it off.
Aspen pulled away. “C-come on, guys, this isn’t funny. You know I don’t like-” He stammered, then pulled his jacket back on. “I’ll stay here and watch you. Okay? I’m not ready to go IN the water yet.”
Patch stared at him for a few moments, then sighed. “Fine. Stay in the room. We’ll give you a little bit, but we need to get you started getting over this water thing. We can’t find any place to stay on the island, so if stuff goes wrong, we’re going to HAVE to cross the bridge.”
West firmly pushed Aspen to sit in the chair they’d left their stuff in. “Stay here. I’ll give you THIRTY MINUTES, and then you’re coming in.”
Aspen huffed and let himself be seated. “Yes, yes, I know, you better not have to come after me and all that, I remember from LAST time you said you were getting me over this.”
He sat back and watched West and Patch walk into the water. He focused on his friends as they waded in, getting ever deeper. A flash of water filled the back of his mind, and he shook it away. Patch batted the ball across the surface of the pool, and some of the other residents immediately joined in, pushing the ball back and forth across each other. Patch’s eyes stayed locked on their heads and shoulders and the ball, refusing to look any lower.
Then West took a deep breath and went under, Aspen’s eyes following before he could stop them. The water glittered and rippled in his vision, and he sat up, feeling his heart rate spiking. He stared at the spot West had gone under. Counted. Five seconds. Ten. Water rushed into his mind, spilling over all his memories and thoughts and drowning everything else out.

Cloth. A rock. Dad. He’d called him dad, just a human in whose house he’d been born. The only member of his litter that didn’t look purebred. The only one that was different. They’d gone for a ride in the car, just the two of them. He was barely six months old, just old enough to be adopted by a new family. He was really looking forward to it. Mom- his real mom, not a human- had said that when his litter got their human families, it would be good times for life.
The car had stopped, and Dad had reached back, grabbed him by the scruff. Stuffed him into a pillowcase with a rock from the yard. Tied it shut. Aspen hadn’t struggled. After all, this was dad, why would he hurt him? A sickening swinging sensation, like being upside-down on a swing. Then, falling.
The water had hurt when he hit, first his back hitting the water, then the rock hitting his gut, dragging him down, down, into the river. That was when he’d panicked; the rock had knocked the wind out of him, and the bag filled with water instantly. He struggled against the opening, the knot refusing to come undone. His lungs burned for oxygen. He clawed and struggled and thrashed until finally, the pillowcase ripped. Strange hands grabbed the rip, tore it open, and pulled him from the bag.
Breaking the surface, he gasped for air, coughed up water, thrashed, trying desperately to stay afloat. He felt so weak, and his vision kept going dark. Someone grabbed him, dragged him sideways through the water. Tossed him ashore. Aspen could never remember what the dog had looked like as he rolled him, trying to get him to cough up all the water he’d breathed. His mind filled the empty space with a dark, comforting silhouette. He remembered being barely conscious as the bigger dog had carried him desperately through the streets, calling for help, getting none.
He remembered bursting through a door, hearing the stranger begging someone for help. Being carried one way while the stranger was grabbed and dragged another.

Aspen gasped as the memories ripped through his mind, just like they always did. Only West breaking the surface again snapped him out of it, and he panted, clutching his chest through his jacket. His heart pounded and slammed violently. Moments later, West was at his side, patting his back. “You okay, bud? It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re safe…”
Aspen grabbed at West’s body, digging his fingers into West’s fur. It must have hurt, but West didn’t complain. He just let him hug him until he could calm himself down.
“... You done?”
Aspen nodded.
“Good. We’re going in the water now.”
Aspen shook his head, then squeaked when West picked him up surprisingly easily. “Yes. Here we go.” He carried Aspen to the stairs down into the pool, then gently stood him on the first step. Aspen flinched, then hesitated. The water lapped gently around his ankles, and he slowly looked down.
“Th-this isn’t so bad… I guess…” He stammered, watching his fur float gently in the water.


Chapter 9: Kitchens and Carpets

West sighed as he put his key in the door lock and let himself in. Instead of the expected carpet upon entering the lobby, however, he found himself walking on a thick plastic pad. He looked down. It looked like the kind of pad that one would put down under a rolling chair to keep it from trying to eat the carpet. The carpet itself was missing. He looked around, confused, and saw a roll of new carpeting laying nearby.
Charlie stepped out of his office and noticed West standing there. “Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t want anybody getting splinters in their paws while the workers are working on replacing the carpet. They’re doing the… third floor hall right now, I believe. They pulled up all the carpets at once so they could ship them off to the dump or wherever. Oh, and the, uh, lounge is gonna be closed for the next few days. I have some people coming in to remodel the place, put up some fresh paint, reopen the kitchen, that kind of thing. I’ll be getting everybody a little key fob that entitles you to free meals, but it’ll be open to the public. Bring in a little cash to pay for the upkeep.”
West stared at Charlie for a few moments. “What are you playing at? First thing you do is say you’re gonna find a way to get rid of us, and now you’re replacing the carpets, opening the pool, FEEDING us? Why? What’s the point?”
Charlie sighed. “Right… so I MAY not really care all that much for dogs or cats, I never really have. But it IS a fairly nice place, despite the neighborhood, and it’s not you guys’ fault that you have to stay here just to stay off the streets. I know the pound isn’t really the best place to go as an adult dog. So I figure, better having you guys here than going through the trash looking for food or getting hit by a car looking for shelter.”
“And what’s the catch? You gonna start charging us? And then evict us when we can’t afford to pay? Most of us don’t have jobs.” West crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his paw, irritated. He stared distrustfully up at Charlie, scowling at him.
Charlie sighed. “There IS one thing. Just one thing, only. In a few weeks, this place is going to have humans coming to it fairly regularly. They’re going to want to hang out with you guys. Some may even want to take you home with them, let you live with them. Be your new family. I only ask that you consider letting them.”
West stared at him, then turned to start up the stairs. “I’ve had more than my share of families. I’m not going anywhere. And I’ve got my eye on you. No human is nice to animals like us without an ulterior motive.” He gave his tail an irritated swish as he turned to walk up the stairs, then paused to glare back down at Charlie one more time.
Charlie watched him go, then sighed. “He’s one of the broken ones, I bet. Kind of sounds like it.” He turned and walked past the caution tape into the lounge.

West stomped up three flights of uncarpeted stairs before arriving at his floor, pausing to look at the new carpet. He had to admit, it did look nicer… He shook the thought from his head and jammed the key into his door lock. “Urrgh… I bet he’s fooling everybody else with-oof! Aspen, could you STOP grabbing onto me the second I get home for a change?”
Aspen stepped back. “You’re extra cranky today. Is it because of the floors? I thought the new carpet was nice…”
West huffed. “It’s Westlake. He’s opening up the place to humans.”
“What?” Aspen looked surprised.
“He says he’s gonna open up a cafe in the lounge and open it to the public. I think he meant the pool, too. Says there’s gonna be humans all over the place, and they can take us home with them if they like. That’s how he’s getting rid of us, he’s just gonna let us get dragged out of here.”
Aspen stared at him. “Did he SAY that, or did you assume that’s what he meant?”
He stared back at him for a few moments, then hesitantly looked down. “He said he wanted us to consider it, if we got an offer.” He grumbled weakly. “But it’s basically the same thing.”
Aspen sighed. “He’s giving us a chance to find a REAL home. What’s the matter with that? We could be normal dogs, with real families.”
“I don’t WANT…” He stopped, took a deep breath, and started again without raising his voice. “I don’t want another family. I’ve had more than enough families. Been there, lived that, don’t need any more, thanks.” He sat at the table and put his head on his arms, crossed on the tabletop. “If you don’t let them get close to you, it doesn’t hurt when they leave you.”
Aspen sat across from West, looking at him closely. He tilted his head. After several minutes, he spoke. “... What happened to you? How did you get like this?” He lay his head on the table to try to look West in the eye. “You don’t trust ANYBODY, especially not humans, and you always talk about how you expect everybody to leave you.”
West looked away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“No. That’s not going to work this time.” Aspen poked him with a finger from across the table. “You’re gonna tell me this time.” He continued poking him, interjecting every few seconds with “Tell me. Tell me.”
After about a minute of this, West grumbled and swatted him away. “FINE, just knock it off.” He sat up and looked at the ceiling, deciding where to begin. “My first family was nice. Small. A mom, a dad, and a little girl. They adopted me right from the house where I was born. The little girl and I were best friends. I was about… oh… six months old, at the time, barely old enough to leave my mother. Oh, Becca and I, we used to play for HOURS, and when she started school, she would bring her finger paintings home and show them to me and I was so proud of her, she was such a little artist… and then, in the summer, when I was about two, we went to the park. It was like any other day. Becca and I played together, we had a picnic, and Dad- Dan, I mean… decided he wanted to play fetch. He found a stick, and threw it for me. I brought it back, and he threw it again. I brought it back again, and he threw it again. I brought it back… and they were gone. Their car was gone from the parking lot. I wish I could say I never saw them again, but I did. When I was about four, I got picked up by animal control, and that was the beginning of my first stay in the pound. I was there for about six months before they came. There she was, my little Becca- she’d grown, but I would have recognized her ANYWHERE. They barely looked at me. Left with a puppy, about eight months old.”
West took a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing his fists into his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath before continuing. “The second family was bigger- no dad, just a mother and her three little boys. It took me a little while to warm up to them- I’d been on the street for a while, and I was nearly six years old by then, but eventually I learned to love them, and, oh, how we’d PLAY! Andre and Caleb and Derek… they were nine, seven, and six, and they LOVED to wrestle, and hunt bugs, and we’d roll around in the grass in the backyard all day during the summer, and have snowball fights in the winter…” His eyes lit up as he remembered, then darkened. “And then came James. Cheryl’s new boyfriend. He… didn’t like dogs. And I didn’t like him. I didn’t like the way he looked, or the way he smelled. I especially didn’t like the way he treated Cheryl. But, she stayed with him, and then one day, when I was eight, he took my collar off and put me out on the front porch. Told me that if I ever showed my face around that house again, he’d call animal control. I ran, and stayed away. I never saw them again. I did go back, a few months later, hoping against hope that James had gone… but apparently they had moved away, not long after I left.”
He had to pause for a few moments after that, take a few deep breaths. Calm himself down. “I… ended up at the pound two years later, when I was ten. You would have been just a pup around then. Went in willingly for… reasons. Got adopted almost right away that time. It was another small family, just a man and his wife. Newlyweds, in love, and they loved me, even though I wouldn’t love them back. Not at first. But of course, I warmed up to them eventually, and for two years, we were a happy trio. Then… I don’t know. Her scent changed. She started acting moody. They kept whispering to each other when I couldn’t hear. One day, we went for a ride in the car, and I got to ride on his lap. We were just cruising around downtown, and suddenly the door opened, and he pushed me out onto the sidewalk.” He shook his head. “For ages, I thought it was an accident. Waited almost two days for them to come back for me. They never did.”
He rubbed his eyes again. “It took me almost two weeks on a hobbled paw to find my way back to our house. By then, it was empty. I blamed myself for the longest time, I thought it was something I did. But then I decided it wasn’t me, it was humans. Humans were just awful, and I would never trust another one ever again.” He finally stopped talking, rubbing his eyes some more.
Aspen moved around the table and hugged him quietly. “That’s awful… I’m sorry that happened to you.” He lay his head on West’s back, rubbing his shoulder sadly.


Chapter 10: Construction

A deep rumbling outside the window startled West awake. He crawled groggily from his basket and scrubbed a spot clear of dirt to peek out of the filthy glass. Heavy machinery was arriving at the lot two doors down; an excavator was scooping out dirt and dumping it into a big carrier truck. After watching a few minutes, he grumbled and stumbled off to the bathroom to begin his morning routine.
Dressed and ready to go, West stumbled down the stairs. He had to admit, the new carpets were nice, even if he hated to acknowledge it. Combined with the freshly repainted walls from the second story down, it made the building look almost new. He paused to glance at the lounge, still cordoned off with caution tape and looking completely different from what he could see from the door, he exited the building.
Charlie was outside, in shorts and a tee shirt, removing the rubble that used to be the condo sign with a hand wagon and a sledgehammer. He had paused to look down the street at the noisy construction. When he saw West, he gave a little wave. “Can you believe it? The old town restoration project has been on hold for years. Set up one little nonprofit and suddenly the council can’t wait to start building.”
West grumbled. “Why are you talking to me? I think I made my feelings about you VERY clear.”
He shrugged. “You’ll come around. Eventually. I’m not THAT bad.”
He glared at him, then started off down the street to get to work. “... I won’t ever come around. I don’t care how much you do to make this place better. I still won’t trust you.”

By the time West got home that evening, the workers were already pouring in the concrete foundations, and a second crew had started up down the street at a second site. He paused to stare at the smooth concrete, then shook his head and turned to walk home.
The lobby was in an uproar. West had to jump and stand on tiptoe to see what was going on. Charlie was standing in front of the lounge, trying to hold a grand reopening ceremony, but everybody was too busy trying to peek inside to care what he was doing. Eventually, he gave up and just pulled down the caution tape, stepping aside to let them in.
Curious, West pushed forward with the rest of the residents, and gawped. The old, boarded-up cafe window had been opened, repainted, and repaired, and a digital menu board displaying the specials of the day decorated the wall just above it. Instead of the old, torn-up sofas and lazy chairs, there were tables and booths, shiny and new, with a flat-screen TV over each table by a wall, instead of the single, barely-functional old CRT TV that had been in here before. There was even a small staff in the kitchen, and a big sign that said “No charge for residents.”
West stopped just outside the lounge, watching all the dogs and cats dart here and there, gasping at everything, playing with the TVs, running up to the counter to see if it was really serving real food. He turned and glared at Charlie, his hands on his hips. “And how much did THAT cost you? What are YOU getting out of it? You hired a kitchen staff?! And you’re giving away free food?”
Charlie looked up from trying to bunch up the caution tape. “It didn’t cost me anything. Well… a little. I set up a donation page for this place, run through my company. Most of this came from charitable donations from the shareholders. Well… I say ‘charitable,’ I really mean ‘tax-deductible.’ Most rich people wouldn’t give a dollar to help their own mother unless it got them something. The important thing is, it means I can afford to give you guys a nicer place. I’ve got new equipment coming for the gym. The old stuff was… unrecoverable. And then I’m gonna get started fixing up the apartments. And I have a new sign on the way.” He stuffed the last of the caution tape in a trash bag. “I’m opening up the place for visitors five days a week, starting next week. Maybe I can start getting you guys better homes.”
West rolled his eyes, then turned for the stairs. “I’ll be sure not to be here during visiting hours, then. I don’t want any filthy humans trying to rub their hands all over me. It’s hard enough to maintain thick fur like this without human hand-grease all over it.”
Charlie watched him go thoughtfully. He wondered if he could ever do anything to make West trust him.
Aspen wasn’t in their apartment. West huffed. He bet he was downstairs enjoying the bribe room from their landlord. He stared around their sparse apartment and grunted, frustrated. He couldn’t figure out what Charlie’s angle was on fixing the place up. He refused to believe it was for the benefit of the residents, but there was no way he could find that Charlie was benefiting from it himself, aside from having a nicer place he could live.
He wondered if the plan was to fix the place up, get everybody to leave with humans to go with families, then sell the building for a hefty profit. At the thought, he huffed and stomped his paw. “Well I’m not leaving. I like it here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He announced loudly to the empty apartment. “So good luck getting rid of me, Mr. Westlake!”
He grumbled and flopped onto the floor in the corner, staring at where he would put the TV, if he had one. He could probably afford one, but he was saving. Just a few more weeks…
Aspen came in the door, grinning and holding a can of soda. “Have you seen it? It’s amazing! There’s a whole cafe! Well, sort of. They have drinks, but they only have, like, three different kinds of sandwich or some soup. But at least it’s free!” He held out the soda to West. “I brought you something.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want Westlake’s charity. I don’t want to OWE him anything.” He glared at Aspen. “I don’t want YOU to owe him anything. Get your food from the night stands like we always have. Heck, get it from the convenience store. Just don’t accept it from HIM.”
He sighed. “And what if he’s not lying? What if he’s actually just trying to make it better for us? He did say he was sorry for saying he would find a way to kick us out.”
“And what if he IS lying? What if all THIS is just some scheme to get rid of us and make a profit? I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him.” West stood up angrily and glared at him. “I didn’t- I don’t- Just… don’t take his stuff.” He grumbled and started toward his room. Aspen stopped him.
“Is it so hard for you to believe that he’s not as mean as he seemed at first? Aside from that first day, when he told us he was going to get rid of us, he hasn’t ACTUALLY said or done anything mean. He bought us pizza, reopened the pool, gave us TVs and a place to get food so we don’t have to eat out of the dumpster! He hasn’t asked us for anything at all in return, not even one thing!”
“And that’s how he’s going to get you in the end, mark my words. He’s going to have some contract saying you had to pay for all that stuff, he never said it was free, and if you can’t pay for it he can evict you.” West’s one green eye stared at Aspen over his shoulder.
Aspen sighed. “You really DON’T trust anybody, do you?” He patted his shoulder. “You worry too much. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.”
“So YOU say.” He flicked his ears and shook his hand off. “You know what, do what you want. Don’t come crying to me when he kicks you out.”

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 11: Visiting day

Unfortunately for West, the first day the building was open for visitors happened to be both the day the museum was closed for cleaning and rearranging the exhibits, and the day Charlie was getting the apartments measured for new flooring and appliances. Signs, printed on printer paper, had appeared overnight in the lobby.
“Upstairs off limits to visitors,” proclaimed one sign. “Pool open, no changing rooms or towels provided.” Declared another. One pleaded, “Please ask before petting residents.”
With nowhere else to go, West grudgingly decided to grab his towel and hang out at the pool. He lowered himself slowly into the water, shivering a little as it soaked through his thick fur, then gently waded toward the deeper end until the water reached his chest before plugging his nose and going under, staying down until he felt the water soak through all the way up to his head and ears. When he came back up, he found a human, male, about twenty-five or so, sitting poolside and watching him curiously.
He ignored him, turning away and wading to the far side of the pool. He might already be soaked, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be in splash range. He walked around in the pool, enjoying the feel of the water dragging him backward as he tried to move forward, his fur floating weightlessly underwater, a hand stroking his tail- He gave a startled yip and turned around at the young woman who had come up behind him while he was distracted.
She grinned. “Sorry, puppy, you just looked so soft…”
He grumbled and backed away from her. When did the pool get so crowded? There were a dozen or so humans and a half dozen residents splashing around in the water and seemed to be having a good time together. West huffed and retreated to a corner. The pool wasn’t all that big, but there was enough space that he expected nobody to get too close to him.
Unfortunately for him, he expected too much. People wanted to get close to him, touch him, pet him, in some cases hold him. He was trying hard not to lose his patience, but after the sixth or seventh time someone put their arms around him without permission, he gave a snarl of warning and climbed out of the pool, retreating to where he’d put his sweater, towel, and collar. They were gone, and someone was sitting in the chair. After a frantic look around, he spotted them stuffed in the corner unceremoniously. He huffed and stomped his paw, wrapping himself in the towel and sitting down in the corner to watch the laughing and giggling people and animals still swimming.
After about half an hour, he felt someone touch him again, and he turned, ready to snarl, but found that it was just Aspen. He scooted over to give him space to sit.
Aspen sighed. “I thought I might find you here. Well… I actually expected you to be IN the pool, but seeing how crowded it’s gotten with the human visitors, I’m not surprised you’re not in the water.”
West grumbled. “There’s a sign that says don’t touch without asking. Can people not READ? They keep grabbing me, trying to pet me.”
“Oh no, affection, how horrible!” Aspen playfully mocked. “You’re gonna die!”
“I’ll bite you, you little pest. I will.” He showed his teeth, then leaned back against the wall, pulling the towel tight. Now that he was out of the water, the air chilled him to the bone right through his fur. It was going to take a few hours for him to dry off completely, and even then he would have to take a shower to wash off the pool chemicals.
“Mmm. No you won’t.” He leaned back as well, watching the playing humans. “Think any of them are gonna want you to come home with them?”
“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be going, even if they ask.” He grunted. “I’m nobody’s pet. Not anymore. They had their chances.”
Aspen sighed. “Look, what happened to you is awful, really it is, but that’s no reason to completely ignore the possibility of actually finding a real home.”
West stood up, scrubbing himself as dry as he could with the towel before speaking again. “My heart can’t take another rejection, Aspen. I can’t do it. Not again. I’ve been let down too many times, and I won’t have it happen to me again.” He pulled on his sweater and clipped his collar on. “I’m gonna go find a place away from people to hide out. Let me know when the humans are gone.” He left the room and turned down the hall.

Charlie hummed as he returned to his office from checking on the cafe. The specials the chefs had picked were doing good, and people were loving sharing lunch and socializing with the residents. A few of the residents were a little shy, but some of the younger ones were eager to make friends.
The sound of a page rustling startled him, and he looked around for the source of the sound, finding the trouble malamute huddled in the corner of his office, reading a magazine he’d left on the desk. He sighed. “... Can I help you? Why are you in my office?”
The dog shrugged, not looking up from the magazine. “Hiding from the humans. They keep grabbing me, or trying to pet me or talk to me.”
He sighed. “Look… uh… come to think of it, I never got your name.”
“West. Apartment 4B.” He still didn’t look up, tilting the magazine to look at a fold-out. “That’s a pretty nice car.”
He nodded, grabbing a notebook off the desk and scribbling that down. It would be good information for when he got around to figuring out who lived where. “Look, West, these visitor days are for YOUR benefit. You can’t stay here forever… well, I guess you COULD… but wouldn’t you rather have a proper home, a family? Someone important to you?”
West shrugged. “Tried it. They didn’t like me. Got ditched three times and gave up. Not really keen on trying it again.”
“I’m… sorry to hear that. Look, you can’t hide in my office every day.”
“Won’t need to. I have a job most weekdays, and when I AM here I can stay in my apartment.” He closed the magazine and tossed it back on Charlie’s desk. “Just not today because it’s crawling with workers measuring every inch of it.”
Charlie sighed and rubbed his temples. “Won’t you at least TRY to mingle? Maybe you’ll meet a nice family that will care for you. Or at least make a friend.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Honestly, I don’t wanna be in here with YOU, either, but at least YOU don’t try to grab me.”
Charlie sighed again, getting irritated. “I don’t particularly want YOU in here, either. I’m fixing the place up for you guys, but that doesn’t mean I like you. This place is a business I’m trying to set up. Granted, a non-profit business, but a business. An alternative to the pound, if you will.”
West raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon? How is my home a business? Explain it to me. Explain it to me like I’m a child.”
Charlie rubbed his temples again with a grumble. “Okay, fine. Here’s the deal. I’m trying to set this place up as a place you can live where you’re free to come and go as you please. There’ll be tags you can wear, attach to your keys, whatever, that identifies me as your interim owner. That way, animal control will leave you alone, and you can go about your business. But the catch is, the first floor is open to the public. People can buy food at the cafe, mingle with the residents and, hopefully, take them home to live with them. Adopt them, if you will. Completely at the will of the pets, of course. I’m not a MONSTER. The revenue from the cafe and charitable donations will be used to pay the staff, including a maintenance man, the cooks in the cafe, a groundskeeper, whatever I decide the place needs, including, by the way, pay for food for the residents, if they like, and keep the place running. Once I’ve got it running smoothly, I’m going to lobby the pound to send their long-term residents to live here, instead, so they can free up kennels for incoming strays.”
He paused, staring at West. “I’m not going to MAKE you pick someone to live with, but you ARE going to start seeing your fellow strays rotate in and out of here a lot. You won’t really have time to make friends before they’ll be rotating out, if all goes well. Like I said, it’s a business. The business of getting homes to a bunch of ungrateful fluffballs. I’m providing housing so you’re not dirty, sleeping in the gutter, and lowering property values. I’m providing food so you’re not too skinny for people to want you, and so you’re not digging through dumpsters and making a mess. I’m in the middle of negotiating with a veterinarian to set up a clinic in one of the empty rooms down the hall so you can get checkups and be healthy. And in exchange, the city’s going to make this area much nicer, there’ll be fewer strays digging through garbage all over the city, and I’ll get a nice tax write-off every year for minimal effort. So, really, everybody wins in this situation.”
West huffed at him. “Except the people who can already barely afford to live in this part of the city when it’s the slums. The street vendors, single mothers, food service workers… the city starts nicing up the place, the rent’s gonna skyrocket and suddenly there’s gonna be homeless HUMANS all over the place.”
Charlie shrugged. “Oh, well. Sometimes progress comes with sacrifices.”


Chapter 12: Television

West sighed as he looked around the apartment. The workers had slightly moved everything while they were measuring, but they hadn’t touched his stash. If Charlie was going to be fixing up the apartment, though, he was going to have to find a different place to hide it.
He flopped onto the floor and stared at the ceiling. Even from here he could sort of hear the chatter from all the humans downstairs.
He was ashamed to admit it, but knowing what Charlie was really up to kind of made him feel better. If he was treating the place like a business, then he wouldn’t be kicking them out. That was comforting; knowing that his home was secure and that he wasn’t going to have to leave was a huge load off his shoulders.
After laying on the floor for a while, West climbed back to his paws and groaned. “Well… I was right. He ISN’T doing it for us.” He went to the window and looked out. There was a news van pulling up. “Oh great, just what we need, for this place to be on TV so everybody in the city can gawp at the ‘poor homeless puppies.’ Perfect.”

Charlie smiled and shook hands with the newscaster. “Charles Westlake. How are we going to do this?”
She shook hands and motioned to her camera crew. They proceeded into the building. “The cameras are going to take a few wide shots, maybe find some volunteers to give us some sad eyes, and then we’ll film an interview…” She looked around at the exterior distastefully. “ER… probably inside. Someplace nice-looking, for background.”
He nodded. “That sounds good. I just got the lobby repainted and recarpeted, so it’ll probably be good.” He glanced after the camera crew. “I do need to warn you, there is ONE resident in particular who REALLY hates me, and he might cause a little trouble.”
She grinned. “How could any of these cuties hate anybody?” She followed him inside and grinned at one of the residents.
“They’re cute, sure, but there’s a reason they’re here. A lot of these animals have a past that gives them a cynical outlook on life, and this one in particular… Well, I don’t know what he’s been through, but he doesn’t really trust anybody, hates being touched… really, he’s more or less outright hostile. Not that he bites or anything, but he does NOT enjoy people.” He looked around. “I don’t see him right now. He might have gone back to his apartment.”
“That’s a shame. He sounds like he’d be interesting to interview.” The camera crew left the cafe and started down the hall to the pool.
The newscaster watched them go and checked her watch. “Anyway, after the interview, we’ll stick around for a few minutes, see if we can get any sound bites from any of the residents or visitors, and the editors will stitch it together into a cohesive segment. It’ll air when there’s time in the broadcast, probably tomorrow morning unless something big happens today or tonight. It will definitely air before Friday.
After a couple minutes of getting footage of the pool, the camera crew came back and the newscaster pulled Charlie to a spot that she thought looked good. The cameraman put the camera on a tripod and aimed it at her, then gave a thumbs-up.
She began narrating her bit. “This is the Agnes Westlake Home for Homeless Pets, a new charity startup here on the north end of the island, where stray dogs and cats of the island can come to find a place to stay, meet people, and possibly, find a forever home. I’m here with owner and founder, Charles Westlake. Charles, what made you want to start a boarding home for strays?”
She turned to him and put the camera in his face. Charlie started. “Well, I inherited the building from my great aunt Agnes, where she’s been letting strays stay since about 1986. She was an old woman, but she somehow managed to keep the building in fair shape. I saw how much the place meant to the residents, so I decided to make it a nonprofit, give the place some much-needed repairs, and open it up to the public so the residents could have a chance to have families again-”
“WESTLAKE!” He was interrupted by West yelling from the stairs, scowling as he came down.
“Oh, no. He’s noticed.” Charlie groaned, rubbing his face.
The newscaster motioned for the camera man to keep rolling and pointed the microphone at West as he came closer.
West scowled up at Charlie. “What the FLUFF are you doing bringing press here?! There’s gonna be humans crawling ALL OVER the place now!”
Charlie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told you, it’s so some of your housemates can find homes. Just because YOU’RE fine living here instead of having someone who cares for you, doesn’t mean everybody is.”
West rolled his eyes at him. “We’re fine. We were all fine before you got here. There was NOTHING wrong with the way everything was.”
“The building was starting to fall apart. The carpet was worn out, the paint was peeling, you had no hot water…” He ticked off on his fingers.
“We. Were. Fine. We haven’t had hot water here in five years, we were used to it. And this is the slums, this is the only building left standing on this block. Of COURSE the building wasn’t in perfect condition. But it’s shelter, and frankly that’s all we really needed.” West snarled at him.
“But you COULD have so much more! You could do more than just survive, you could THRIVE. Look, I’ve only been here a month and you’ve got a pool, you have guaranteed FOOD, there’s a gym coming in next week, I have a vet that’s gonna be here on the weekends so you can get medicine! And you could meet someone to give you a REAL home! A place where you don’t have to worry about anything at all.” Charles sighed. He was at his wit’s end with this malamute.
“Except when the humans are going to get tired of me again and ditch me. No thanks, not interested.” He batted at the microphone still held by the newscaster. “And get that out of my FACE.” He poked Charlie in the chest, standing up on tiptoe so he could reach. “You just keep yourself, and all the other FILTHY humans away from me and the people I care about, or they’re gonna have to drag me OFF of you when animal control comes to get me.” He stomped off back up the stairs, dodging around a little girl who was trying to hug him.
Charlie watched him go, then sighed, turning to face the newscaster. “I’m so sorry about that. I don’t know what his deal is, but he’s been like that since I got here.”
She shrugged. “That was FAR from the worst meltdown I’ve ever seen. I think we can even use some of that as sound bites, if we trim it enough. Frame it as though he was talking about you in a positive light.”
“You don’t think that’ll make him even angrier?” Charlie frowned at her.
“Oh, it’s gonna make him SO angry. It always does. Shall we start the interview again, from the top?” She retook her position in front of the backdrop she’d selected.
“Yeah, I guess so…” Charlie moved to stand next to her once more and smiled at the camera, trying not to let it show how much West’s tantrum had bothered him.


Chapter 13: Remodel

West dragged himself through the door, exhausted. Today was one of those days at work where everything seemed to go wrong. People had been touching the new exhibits, crossing the velvet ropes and, worst of all, trying to talk to him and tell him they’d seen him on the news. He had no idea what he was doing on the news, but it had apparently resulted in humans thinking it was all right to try and TOUCH him.
He sighed and went through the door, glaring at Charles, who was chatting with the day’s last couple guests. Visiting hours were technically over, but apparently that didn’t mean much to humans. He gave them a dirty look and started up the stairs.
Charles wrapped up his conversation quickly, looking at West and starting after him. “West, I need to have a quick chat with you!”
West ignored him and continued up the stairs with Charles right behind him, still trying to get his attention. When he didn’t take the hint by the time West had gone up two floors, West suddenly turned to glare at him.
“What?! What could you POSSIBLY have to say to me that you think I would care about?!” He scowled.
Charles stared back at him for a moment with an expression on his face that West would almost swear looked like hurt. After a moment, he dug in his pocket and offered West a key. “Construction’s starting on your apartment in a few days. We’re starting with yours specifically so it can be done and you won’t have to worry about being out of your apartment. I’m moving you and Aspen to 2D until it’s finished.
He stared at the key, then snatched it from his hand. “... You already tell Aspen?”
He nodded at him.
“... Good.” He started to turn to go up the stairs, then paused and turned back to face him. “And… thank you. For not just kicking us all out. I know, it was part of the will that you couldn’t, but still… thanks.”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve opened your mouth and said anything nice to me.” Charles grinned.
“And if you tell anyone I’ll deny it and chew your face off.” He huffed and resumed going up the stairs.
Charlie watched him go, then grinned. “Hmm. Maybe he’ll warm up to me eventually after all.”

“Okay, we’re turning, my left, your right.” Aspen hefted the basket and rotated along the landing, looking backward over his shoulder as he stepped backward. West grunted and followed him. “Okay, more stairs, watch your step… Seven stairs and then we’re on the right floor.” He carefully stepped down, then down again.
It took some doing to move the basket down the hall and turn it into the new apartment, and then they set it down. All of their belongings were inside; Aspen’s pillow, West’s stash, the few odds and ends they’d accumulated, mostly decorations that had been discarded by some ungrateful soul. Aspen perched the basket on his hip and held it with one hand while he fumbled with the key, then led them into the new apartment. “We’re going… going… okay, down.” He lowered the basket to the floor, watching West kick the door closed. “All right, which room do you want? I’ll take the other, whichever one you end up in.”
This apartment was nicer than their normal apartment; The table was an actual table, although one of the legs had been replaced with a broom handle; the stove seemed to work correctly, and there were no holes worn in the rug. West went down the hall to scope out the bedrooms, then came back. “I’ll take the left one. It’s on the side, so I can sort of see the front of the building from there, if I stick my head out.”
Aspen sighed. “Still keeping an eye on Charlie? I keep telling you, he’s NICE.”
“He’s using the place for a tax break. He HAS to be nice, or everybody will LEAVE. He doesn’t actually care about us.” West huffed, pulling Aspen’s stuff out of his basket and starting to drag it down the hall.
“Okay, so maybe it’s nice with an ulterior motive, but it’s still NICE.” He followed him, scooping up his pillow. “You should stop being mean to him.”
“No. I’m gonna be mean to him until he stops using us to save himself money.” He pushed open the door to his new room and shoved his basket inside.
“You’ve got issues. You know that? SO MANY issues. You don’t have to like the guy, you just have to be civil.” He stuck his paw in the doorframe to stop West from slamming it, and glared at him. “Look, he’s never actually DONE anything to you, right? So how about you just leave him alone unless he does? Is THAT too much to ask? Stop bothering him?”
West grumbled. “... Fine. I’ll leave him alone. Happy?”

Charlie opened the door to the apartment and looked around. The appliances had been torn out, the carpet ripped up, and the walls painted, and the workers were laying down new floor insulation now. The fresh linoleum in the kitchen looked nice, and the fresh paint was beautiful. He smiled and wheeled in the new oven, setting it off to the side so the workers could install it at their leisure.
After that, he went back downstairs, dragging the dolly, ready for another trip to bring up the dishwasher. He nodded at the elevator repair tech who was working on tracking down the short in the elevator system right now, so the elevator could be used reliably and safely.
It took another three trips up and down to get everything up; the dishwasher, new sink, new dishes, and new table with chairs all had to be hauled up the stairs manually. Then, Charlie got in his car and left. Nobody really noticed he was gone until he got back with a large package, wrapped in brown paper. It didn’t seem to be heavy for its size, which was about half as big as Charlie himself was; he carried it up to the stairs held in his arms. By the time he’d gone up the three flights of stairs, he was getting winded, but he went into Aspen and West’s apartment anyway. The workers were finishing up already, nearly three days ahead of schedule; the carpet was installed, the new countertops were in, and the bathroom was sparkling new.
Charlie took the package into West’s room and looked around. He had personally decorated this room. He didn’t know why he’d put forth the effort; he knew West wouldn’t appreciate it. He set down the package by the wall, where he’d seen West’s busted old wicker basket during his tour of the apartment, one day when West was at work. He ripped off the paper, wadding it up and stuffing it into the workers’ waste bin, then stood back to admire his handiwork.
A brand new pet bed basket sat in West’s room, the pillows unripped and the wicker tightly woven. The front was monogrammed with “West” and a copy of the dog’s tag. He gave a weak little smile. As aggravating as the malamute could be, he found him kind of endearing. Maybe that was why he had so much affection for him.
The posters on the walls were things that he’d been told West enjoyed; he’d installed a safe, having been told that West had a stash of money that he’d been saving for years. The room was perfect. He hoped West liked it. He would tell him that the apartment was ready in the morning, after he’d assembled the new table in the kitchen and set up the cheap TV he’d gotten for the apartment. He had actually gotten identical furniture and televisions for every apartment, getting a discount for buying in bulk and using funds raised through the website. They just wouldn’t get it until their remodels were all done.
He smiled and went to the kitchen, opening the box for the table and getting to work.


Chapter 14: Fur and Fury

Charlie watched West walk in the front door and checked his watch. He went into the cafe and picked up two bottles of water, then went to his office and sat down beside his desk. He checked his watch again. “Three… Two… One…”
The door banged open, then slammed. West stood angrily before him. “What are you playing at? You decorated my room? YOU BOUGHT ME A BASKET?!” He snarled angrily and glared at him. “Why?! What do you want from me?! You want my money? You want me to like you?”
Charlie pushed one of the bottles of water across the desk to West. “I bought you a basket because I saw that the one you’ve been sleeping in is in a pitiful state, and as you’ve stated no interest in finding a different family, I decided it was better on the new carpets in your apartment if you had something newer and less… filthy.” He uncapped the other bottle of water and took a sip.
West glared. “And the monogram? Surely that wasn’t necessary.” He snatched the bottle of water and took a sip.
“Maybe not, but I didn’t want you to be able to refuse it. You have a history of not really… liking much of what I try to do for you.” He stared down at him over the desk. “West, I’m not going to pretend to know or understand what you went through in your past to make you the way you are. I’m not even going to ask you to tell me. You don’t trust me, and from where I sit, that’s a good thing.”
There was a moment of silence, and West’s expression softened into confusion. “Um… what?”
“You don’t trust me. You’ve been going over every move with a fine-toothed comb, so to speak. It keeps me honest. I have to think through everything I choose to do. And yes, I’ll admit it, when I first arrived here, I had plans to get rid of everybody living here and dump the property as fast as possible. And yes, I did turn it into a business opportunity. By turning this building into a non-profit, I’ve forced the city council to start the rejuvenation project they’ve had on hold for over a decade just to save face.”
West scowled. “Once this area is full of nice new buildings, the cops are going to patrol. Then the food stands and night life will be gone. You’re throwing off the whole balance of the area’s economy, the part that made life here possible in the first place. You can’t fix that just by serving sandwiches in the lounge.”
Charlie frowned and leaned back in his chair. “No, I suppose not. Unless I do something about that.” He considered it for a few moments. “Perhaps if I paid to get the food stands up to standards and got them proper licensing and permits. An active nightlife could actually work in the favor of the food stands then, without worrying about the police shutting them down.”
West crossed his arms over his chest, putting his ears back suspiciously. “What do you get out of it? What’s your angle? Humans don’t do things out of the goodness of their shriveled little hearts.”
Charlie stared at him for a little bit longer, then smiled. “See, I told you, you keep me honest. I would be offering a partnership with the stand owners- I pay for any equipment they need to get up to code and for their license, and then I take a share of their profits until it’s paid off. A business loan, if you will, from my own pocket. As an exchange, their stands will be up to code, which will allow for more citizens to visit- It’s cyclical, see. That’s how rejuvenations work.”
“And if they refuse? Or if it doesn’t work? What happens if they go under before they’ve paid for this expensive new equipment?” West glowered. “What, you repossess the equipment and offer it at a discount to the next person? And the next? These aren’t just numbers on a spreadsheet, Westlake. These are PEOPLE. These are LIVES you’re messing with.”
“And I intend to be fair. But I know, change can be scary. You’re worried about your friends and neighbors, people you’ve learned to trust over… how long have you been here? Five years?” He leaned forward again. “West, I just want what’s best for everybody. Believe me or not, it’s the truth.” His hand suddenly jerked forward and plucked a patch of loose fur out of West’s coat, staring at the tuft thoughtfully.
West snatched it back and glared at him. “Don’t touch my fur. Don’t touch ME. And leave those people ALONE. Can’t you do just ONE LITTLE THING without profit in mind? Do something just to be KIND?” He stuffed the tuft of fur in his pocket. “Do you even know that word?” He stood up and turned to leave.
Charlie opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to even SAY. “West…”
West paused, waiting to hear his latest excuse.
“You’re right. I’m a businessman, everything I do is fuelled by the bottom line. I went to school to learn how to think that way. I’m not sure I know how to think any other way anymore. But I’m willing to try, if you’re willing to help me.” He gave a weak little smile. “How do we help everybody? What do YOU think will be the best option?”
West slowly turned around to face him. “A park. As close to here as possible. A real, honest-to-goodness park. Playground. Trees. Maybe a picnic area.” He gestured with his hands. “Children, Westlake. People want a place for their children to go. The nearest real park is on the mainland. Granted, the island is only a couple miles long, but there’s nowhere for children to play here. Nowhere safe anyway.”
“A… Park. Really?”
West nodded. “Ideally, they’d remove a couple streets and make it a few city blocks square. Room for the kids to run and play. Fly kites, play sports, yell and scream. Someplace safe for them to play, so their parents don’t keep them inside. You bring the children, adults will follow. If adults follow, so will money. If money comes to the area, then the project will succeed.”
Charlie considered this. Children. A demographic usually passed over by businessmen because they generally had no money to spend. There was no way to profit from a park. In fact, they tended to be money leaks; there was upkeep and repairs, not to mention the actual building of it. But, thinking about it, where there were children, there were parents not far off. Parents who liked things like coffee, who had to feed their children, clothe their children, clothe and feed themselves. And what was better for feeding said children than street food, something fresh and hot that could be carried with them as they walked the business strip?
He nodded. “You’re right. It would be the only park on the island with any real amenities. All the children would want to come here. If we set up an official spot for vendors to set up next to the park, it would become a hotspot for activity. People might even come from off the island just to be there, try the street food, shop in the new shopping district that the city’s building. The project would not only succeed, but it would thrive, AND the people living here would be able to stay.”
West gave him a nod. “Doing something to be kind doesn’t mean you won’t eventually profit from it. It just means the profit isn’t the first thing you think of. I bet the city council would agree, if you petitioned them.” He turned and left, leaving the tuft of his fur in his seat.
Charlie picked up the tuft and stroked it thoughtfully. There was someone else who might need a little bit of kindness, now that he thought about it.


Chapter 15: Signs and Experiences

Patch opened the door to Charlie’s office. “You wanted to see me? I’m not in trouble, am I?”
Charlie smiled down at Patch. “Oh, no, no, of course not. I just have some questions for you, about West.”
Patch rolled his eyes, swishing his tail in annoyance. “What did he do NOW? He wasn’t vandalizing anything, was he?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing of the sort. I just want to know a little about his past. You hang out with him, so I thought you might know.” He offered Patch a bottle of water, and Patch took it, holding it in his hands thoughtfully as he stared up at him.
“Well, it’s not my story to tell, so I can’t really say much, but I can tell you that I know West from his second family, a single mother and her three little boys. We were neighbors. At the time, I was the pet of an old cat lady. There were… twenty-six of us living in the house with her, which was a bit crowded, so most of us spent most of our time outside. I used to go over and play with West and the boys. He was much happier then…”
He paused, considering. “When the mom’s new boyfriend kicked him out, the boys were devastated. That guy was really abusive. I have no doubt he kicked out West because West tried to protect them from him. The old lady I lived with died about a year later, and I met up with West living on the street. At that time, we had an old tarp; we would set up overnight in an alley and sleep under the tarp in case it rained, and he would roll it up and stuff it in a bag to take with us in the morning. We never slept in the same alley two nights in a row, for safety reasons. He seemed a lot sadder at that point. Then, one day, he just… disappeared. I heard from a friend of mine that he had apparently turned himself in, to the pound. I never did find out why. He won’t say, just that it was something he had to do. I still have his bag, but I got rid of the tarp when Agnes let me start staying here.”
“A couple years later, West showed up here with a sprained ankle and trust issues. It took three of us to hold him down just so Agnes could take a look at his ankle. He wouldn’t let her anywhere near him for over a year. Even then, he never really did… CLICK…with her, the way he used to. In fact, he never really clicked with anyone. He hangs out with me because he knows me, and he hangs out with Aspen because they’re roommates, but he doesn’t really know or spend time with anyone else. Everybody knows who HE is, though. He’s been here for the longest stretch of all of us. We’ve all come and gone at times. I’m fresh off my fourth crazy cat lady just six months ago. But not West. He’s been here for five years straight, almost six. Never tries to meet any humans. Actively avoids them. He got a job at a museum somehow, as a security dog. And that’s the only human interaction he has, aside from tormenting you.” Patch looked up at Charlie. “And I think he only interacts with YOU because you’re directly affecting his life.”
Charlie sighed. “That’s pretty bad, actually, even not knowing what actually happened during the gaps.” He rubbed his temples. “Has he TOLD you what happened in that time?”
“Part of it. He says it’s the whole story, but there’s still gaps. He’s never told us why he went into the pound and let them take him. Apparently, he was there less than a week.” Patch sighed. “I doubt we’ll ever be able to piece together the actual full story. Nobody who’s ever been in the pound would willingly go back. It’s dark, depressing, and lonely. Plus, the older you are, the less likely it is you’ll ever come out again. West has a saying he likes to use: ‘There’s two ways you leave the pound, in a collar or in a box.’ He’d never go willingly.”
“Unless he had a good reason to go there…” Charlie hesitated. “He has a soft spot for children, doesn’t he?”
Patch nodded. “He always has. Apparently, his first family that he got when he was just a puppy had a little girl. He loved her a lot, and he was devastated when they abandoned him. Ever since then, he’s just had a place in his heart for children. The problem is, he doesn’t trust adults. He refuses to believe that any adult could do anything out of kindness.”
Charlie nodded. “He’s told me as such. We had a little back and forth.” The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Hello? Yes. … Yes.” He hung up. “Wanna watch the new sign get installed?”
Patch’s ears perked up. “It’s here?”
“Just outside.” He stood up and opened the door to the office.

It took the workers an hour to install the new sign, a beautiful stone slab with raised, illuminated lettering: Agnes Westlake Home for Homeless Pets. Charlie grinned and took a photo of it for the website.
A small crowd of residents had gathered to watch and admire, and Charlie stepped forward to make a speech.
“With the installation of this new sign, the Agnes Westlake home is officially open for business! In six weeks, the renovations will be completed, and you’ll all have freshly remodeled apartments to live in. At that point, I will begin taking applications for new residents. I look forward to having you stay here with me until you are able to find yourselves some new families to live with.”
He took a deep breath. “I hope I can live up to the standard you came to expect of my great aunt Agnes. I know I’m not her. I don’t love you like she did. I don’t have the history with you that she did. And some of you may not trust me as much as you trusted her. But I hope that, in helping you to thrive, I’m making her proud.” Charlie felt a tear fill his eye, and blinked, surprised. He felt surprisingly emotional as he made his speech.
A few residents stepped forward to give comforting pats and hugs, and he found himself kneeling to hug back, stroking the back of a few fuzzy heads, and even smiling a little. This felt nice. He wasn’t sure an animal had ever really shown any affection for him, and he found himself returning it without realizing he had been going to.
When the crowd cleared, he blinked at West, standing a short distance away, with his usual scowl. He tilted his head and offered the dog a hug, finding himself hoping he would take it. Without a word, West turned and walked toward the door. Charlie sighed. He didn’t know why, but that rejection kind of hurt.
As West disappeared inside, he reflected on what Patch had told him. That West had been kicked out of his second home. That was a rejection that probably also hurt. Probably hurt more than the rejection of a hug from someone who already didn’t like him, actually. That might be part of why he had his attitude. He wondered what had happened to him before. What had happened to him after.
Why would a dog willingly go and turn himself in to the pound?
Charlie pondered this as he went inside.

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 15: Signs and Experiences

Patch opened the door to Charlie’s office. “You wanted to see me? I’m not in trouble, am I?”
Charlie smiled down at Patch. “Oh, no, no, of course not. I just have some questions for you, about West.”
Patch rolled his eyes, swishing his tail in annoyance. “What did he do NOW? He wasn’t vandalizing anything, was he?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing of the sort. I just want to know a little about his past. You hang out with him, so I thought you might know.” He offered Patch a bottle of water, and Patch took it, holding it in his hands thoughtfully as he stared up at him.
“Well, it’s not my story to tell, so I can’t really say much, but I can tell you that I know West from his second family, a single mother and her three little boys. We were neighbors. At the time, I was the pet of an old cat lady. There were… twenty-six of us living in the house with her, which was a bit crowded, so most of us spent most of our time outside. I used to go over and play with West and the boys. He was much happier then…”
He paused, considering. “When the mom’s new boyfriend kicked him out, the boys were devastated. That guy was really abusive. I have no doubt he kicked out West because West tried to protect them from him. The old lady I lived with died about a year later, and I met up with West living on the street. At that time, we had an old tarp; we would set up overnight in an alley and sleep under the tarp in case it rained, and he would roll it up and stuff it in a bag to take with us in the morning. We never slept in the same alley two nights in a row, for safety reasons. He seemed a lot sadder at that point. Then, one day, he just… disappeared. I heard from a friend of mine that he had apparently turned himself in, to the pound. I never did find out why. He won’t say, just that it was something he had to do. I still have his bag, but I got rid of the tarp when Agnes let me start staying here.”
“A couple years later, West showed up here with a sprained ankle and trust issues. It took three of us to hold him down just so Agnes could take a look at his ankle. He wouldn’t let her anywhere near him for over a year. Even then, he never really did… CLICK…with her, the way he used to. In fact, he never really clicked with anyone. He hangs out with me because he knows me, and he hangs out with Aspen because they’re roommates, but he doesn’t really know or spend time with anyone else. Everybody knows who HE is, though. He’s been here for the longest stretch of all of us. We’ve all come and gone at times. I’m fresh off my fourth crazy cat lady just six months ago. But not West. He’s been here for five years straight, almost six. Never tries to meet any humans. Actively avoids them. He got a job at a museum somehow, as a security dog. And that’s the only human interaction he has, aside from tormenting you.” Patch looked up at Charlie. “And I think he only interacts with YOU because you’re directly affecting his life.”
Charlie sighed. “That’s pretty bad, actually, even not knowing what actually happened during the gaps.” He rubbed his temples. “Has he TOLD you what happened in that time?”
“Part of it. He says it’s the whole story, but there’s still gaps. He’s never told us why he went into the pound and let them take him. Apparently, he was there less than a week.” Patch sighed. “I doubt we’ll ever be able to piece together the actual full story. Nobody who’s ever been in the pound would willingly go back. It’s dark, depressing, and lonely. Plus, the older you are, the less likely it is you’ll ever come out again. West has a saying he likes to use: ‘There’s two ways you leave the pound, in a collar or in a box.’ He’d never go willingly.”
“Unless he had a good reason to go there…” Charlie hesitated. “He has a soft spot for children, doesn’t he?”
Patch nodded. “He always has. Apparently, his first family that he got when he was just a puppy had a little girl. He loved her a lot, and he was devastated when they abandoned him. Ever since then, he’s just had a place in his heart for children. The problem is, he doesn’t trust adults. He refuses to believe that any adult could do anything out of kindness.”
Charlie nodded. “He’s told me as such. We had a little back and forth.” The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Hello? Yes. … Yes.” He hung up. “Wanna watch the new sign get installed?”
Patch’s ears perked up. “It’s here?”
“Just outside.” He stood up and opened the door to the office.

It took the workers an hour to install the new sign, a beautiful stone slab with raised, illuminated lettering: Agnes Westlake Home for Homeless Pets. Charlie grinned and took a photo of it for the website.
A small crowd of residents had gathered to watch and admire, and Charlie stepped forward to make a speech.
“With the installation of this new sign, the Agnes Westlake home is officially open for business! In six weeks, the renovations will be completed, and you’ll all have freshly remodeled apartments to live in. At that point, I will begin taking applications for new residents. I look forward to having you stay here with me until you are able to find yourselves some new families to live with.”
He took a deep breath. “I hope I can live up to the standard you came to expect of my great aunt Agnes. I know I’m not her. I don’t love you like she did. I don’t have the history with you that she did. And some of you may not trust me as much as you trusted her. But I hope that, in helping you to thrive, I’m making her proud.” Charlie felt a tear fill his eye, and blinked, surprised. He felt surprisingly emotional as he made his speech.
A few residents stepped forward to give comforting pats and hugs, and he found himself kneeling to hug back, stroking the back of a few fuzzy heads, and even smiling a little. This felt nice. He wasn’t sure an animal had ever really shown any affection for him, and he found himself returning it without realizing he had been going to.
When the crowd cleared, he blinked at West, standing a short distance away, with his usual scowl. He tilted his head and offered the dog a hug, finding himself hoping he would take it. Without a word, West turned and walked toward the door. Charlie sighed. He didn’t know why, but that rejection kind of hurt.
As West disappeared inside, he reflected on what Patch had told him. That West had been kicked out of his second home. That was a rejection that probably also hurt. Probably hurt more than the rejection of a hug from someone who already didn’t like him, actually. That might be part of why he had his attitude. He wondered what had happened to him before. What had happened to him after.
Why would a dog willingly go and turn himself in to the pound?
Charlie pondered this as he went inside.


Chapter 16: Council presentation

Three weeks into the apartment renovations, as Charlie checked his emails, he was surprised to find one from the city council. He had emailed them weeks before, with West’s proposal for a city park in the area. He opened and read the email, growing excited. They liked the idea, and wanted to hear more- his heart stopped and sank. They wanted West to come with, since it was his idea. The same West who had never really had a civil conversation with him. The same West that avoided being in the room with him if he could help it.
He sighed and rubbed his temples, then printed out the email. He was going to need it. He rode the elevator up, glad he’d been able to hire someone to get it working reliably again, and knocked on West’s door. Aspen opened it, then grinned at him. “Mr. Westlake! Come in, come in!” He opened the door wide. Something smelled good. As Charlie stepped in, he saw that the kitchen was in use. Aspen was wearing an apron, wagging his tail as he rushed Charlie to sit at the table and quickly grabbed him a plate of fresh cookies. “Thank you so much for giving us a working oven again. My granny- that was the person I lived with before I came here- used to bake, and I’ve been missing it so much since I’ve been living here!”
Charlie looked at the cookies. Oatmeal raisin. He supposed it made sense; dogs couldn’t eat chocolate chips. After scalding a finger on the piping hot cookies, he politely tried one, deciding it would be rude not to, then blinked. Peanut butter oatmeal cranberry? It was actually really good.
Aspen wagged his tail eagerly. “How is it? It’s hard to find cookie recipes that dogs can eat, they all have either chocolate or raisins in them. West printed this recipe out for me at work, and then he helped me read it. But don’t tell his boss, he’s not technically allowed. Oh, and we borrowed ingredients from the cafe, since we don’t actually have anything here.”
Charlie hesitated. “Raisins?”
“Yeah, dogs can’t have grapes. A lot of people forget that. There’s a chemical in them that attacks our livers. A raisin cookie would PROBABLY be fine, but I use dried cranberries instead anyway.” He sat across from him. “I bet you’re here to see West. You seem to like him. He HATES you, by the way. Absolutely HATES you.”
“That’s gonna be a problem, actually. The city council wants him to come with me to do a presentation on his park idea.” Charlie sighed.
“Really?!” He squealed and gave Charlie a hug. “That’s GREAT news! Westie LOVES kids, having a park around here might give him something to worry about besides what you’re doing!” He wagged his tail excitedly. “He’s in his room, I’ll go and get him.”
When Aspen returned a moment later with West, West seemed to be in a foul mood. He put his hands on his hips and glared at Charlie. “Aspen says you wanna talk to me. I told him I’d rather test the new garbage disposal with my hand, but he insisted. What do you want?” He glowered at him.
Charlie rolled his eyes and handed him the printed-out email. “Here, read this.”
West snatched the paper from him and skimmed it, then handed it back. “I’m off work Sunday and Tuesday next week, otherwise I can ask for a day off. Go ahead and make the appointment. I’ll have something prepared.”

It ended up being just Tuesday by the time their appointment rolled around. Apparently the council was actually interested in the idea. To Charlie’s surprise, West had actually paid for some card stock boards and roughly drawn out his idea of how to proceed with the park.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the council,” began West, “I have here a diagram of the proposed new shopping district, as it stands at the moment.”
He pointed to a section of road, three blocks long, with mock-ups of shops along both sides of the road. He’d also included the surrounding area in his hand-drawn map, with its planned businesses.
“As you can see, the current plan allows for three blocks of shopping district, double-sided, with parallel parking along the road. This limits shopping capacity, as there is no other parking planned for several blocks around the area.” He motioned to the map, indicating that the only parking planned was the parallel parking and a small parking lot several blocks away.
“My proposal, is this.” He moved the front card stock to the back of the stack to show a new map. “Instead, we make the shopping strip single-sided, and make it surround a park with a dimension of three blocks, by three blocks. The extra shopping buildings will be moved to the north and south, which not only frees up more space to install new shops, but also allows for an apartment complex here, and a parking structure, here.” He indicated the two corners in turn.
The council murmured gently, but West wasn’t done yet. He moved yet another card stock to the front. “The parkland will go as such: Three blocks by two blocks will be reserved for the actual park. A playground, a multipurpose sport field, and a small picnic area can fit nicely in that space. Parents can send their children to play and work out energy while they shop, and see them from anywhere on the strip.” He demonstrated with a wave of his finger, the line of sight from all the shops to the playground, then continued. “The remaining three blocks will be a staging area. It can be used as an area for food trucks or stalls to set up, or as a community area for festivals. A farmer’s market, craft show, even a pavilion with live music, could all easily be set up in this area.”
He flipped the page to show the staging area and the parking garage highlighted. “The fees from the parking garage, as well as permits to use the staging area, can be used to absorb some of the cost of upkeep of the area.”
He flipped to the next page, where the apartment complex was highlighted. “The apartments can be rent-controlled, convenient housing for the employees at the shops in the area, as well as other low-income families such as single parents and young adults just starting out on their own.”
He flipped the page again to show a mock-up of a playground with a swingset, a climbing structure, a slide, and a few other playground toys. “A basic playground like this would be more than plenty to bring business to the area, both due to its proximity to the shops, and its convenience, the next nearest parkland being nearly a mile on the other side of the bridges to the mainland.”
He flipped to a blank page. “This concludes my proposal.” He nodded to Charlie, who stepped forward with the money-speak, saying he could use some of his personal funds as well as some of the foundation’s donations to help pay for the parkland, in exchange for naming it after his great aunt.
The council seemed really impressed, both with their preparedness, and with their plan. They said they needed to deliberate, and dismissed them.
In the elevator on the way back down to the lobby, Charlie looked over at West. “I’m impressed. You didn’t insult them even once. In fact, you were downright professional.”
West shrugged. “I know when there’s butts that need kissing. You gotta be nice when you’re asking for something.”
There was suddenly a loud scraping sound, and the elevator stopped suddenly. The lights flickered, then went dim.


Chapter 17: Elevator Stop

Charlie hung up the emergency phone and sighed, sitting against the wall. “They’re saying it’s going to be several hours before the technician can get here to get us out.”
West looked up at the ceiling, watching the light flicker. “Not sure I really want to know how close we came to dying before the emergency brakes kicked in…” He dragged a finger across the carpeting.
It was quiet for a long while. Then Charlie spoke. “I’ve been asking your friends about you. They keep saying it’s not their story to tell. But I’ve got a decent picture of your past. You’ve had a few families, right?”
West scowled. “I don’t really want to talk about that.”
“We could talk about why you don’t like the remodel at the apartments.”
“We could talk about NOTHING.”
Charlie sighed. “You really wanna sit in an elevator with me in silence for six hours?”
He stared at him for a few moments, then his ears went back. “I’ve had three families.They all ditched me. The end.” He huffed and lay on the floor to stare at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Charlie slouched a little bit. “Any idea why?”
There was silence for a long while. “... Yes. I know why. For all of them, actually. I haven’t told anybody that. I’m not stupid, nor am I deaf. I know exactly why they got rid of me.”
Charlie was quiet. “That… must be hard. Care to share?”
“My first family…” He hesitated. “I was bigger than they expected, and shed more. They wanted something smaller, a shorthair breed. I think the actual getting rid of me, though, was a spur of the moment decision. I knew they were considering it. I’d heard them discussing taking me to the pound, or giving me to a friend. But I didn’t know they were going to just leave me until they did.” He put his ears back, staring at the floor with sad eyes. “... Didn’t make it hurt less. They could have at least put forth the effort to find me someplace else to live.”
Charlie heard the sadness in his voice. He could swear he’d heard his voice crack a little. He hesitantly scooted around to sit next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. After a moment, West sat up, and Charlie thought he was going to move away, but instead, he leaned on him quietly, resting his head in the crook of Charlie’s armpit. He hugged his knees a little.
“The second family, a single mother and her three little boys… it was great for a while, until she got a new boyfriend. He was awful. He was always drunk, didn’t have a job. She was barely making ends meet, but he moved in and started using up all her money on beer anyway.”
“Sounds like a real scumbag.” Charlie opined, putting his arm on West’s elbow and pulling him closer. He wasn’t sure why. It just felt like the thing one did when trapped in an elevator with a dog, talking about the past. West didn’t seem to mind at all, uncharacteristically of him. Maybe it was because he was so upset from talking about it.
“He was, he really was. I hated him. Especially when he started beating her. It was little things, at first, just a slap here, a little punch there, always when he thought nobody was looking, never hard enough to leave a mark. But eventually, it became full-on yelling, slapping, punching… One day… He was drunk, and he came after the kids. I’d had enough, I already didn’t like him beating on HER, but to come after the KIDS… I bit him. Hard. Hard enough to bleed.” He put his ears back. “The law doesn’t care about reason. If he’d turned me in to animal control, I’d have been euthanized on the spot. Dogs that bite get put down. So he turned me out. Said if he ever saw me again, he’d turn me in, tell them that I’d bitten him, show them the mark. Truthfully, he’d been looking for a reason for a long time. I kept protecting the boys from him, their mother sometimes, too… but that was the first time I’d bitten him.”
Charlie blinked. “Wait, really? Even though you were protecting them? That seems-”
“It happens all the time. His word against mine. And they don’t care enough to investigate.” He put his ears back. “And the worst thing? I’d have stayed, tried to protect them until the end, let animal control get me and put me down then and there, if I thought it would help.” He closed his eyes, lay his head back against Charlie’s arm. There was a tear forming in the corner of West’s eye, a tear he was desperately trying to keep as the only one.
Charlie rubbed his head gently. “It’s really bothering you to talk about this stuff, huh? I’m sorry… You don’t have to keep going.”
“N-no, it’s fine… You’ve been really trying, you deserve to know why I can’t let myself let you in… Why I can’t let ANYONE in…”
Nonetheless, he was silent for a long time after that. Minutes ticked by while Charlie waited patiently, watching the elevator light flicker, read and reread the poster campaigning to reelect the old fossil of a mayor.
“Then, my last family.” West started at last, then stopped. “No, let me explain what happened before that.” He put out a hand and looked at it. “I’d been homeless about two, maybe three years. I had a gang of cats and dogs I regularly traveled with, we’d look out for each other, help each other find food, find shelter. Normally, I had a tarp, I’d put it up in an alley at nightfall and three or four of us would sleep under it to keep the rain off. But that day, I had left it with Patch. I was down by the boardwalk on the south end, fishing. I saw a car stop on the bridge, then this guy stuffs something in a bag, and throws it over. I realize it’s a puppy, and I dive in after it. Poor thing was sinking right to the bottom. I managed to rip a hole in the bag and pull him back to the surface, but his lungs were full of water. He was barely breathing by the time I got him to shore. So I ran, as fast as I could, to the only place I knew of that could help him. The pound. I’d saved that puppy’s life, and for my trouble, they locked me up in a kennel, just one filthy stray among a dozen. For weeks, I kept seeing that man throwing that poor defenseless puppy into the river in my dreams. Still do, sometimes.”
Charlie nodded. “People are cruel. That’s no way to get rid of an unwanted puppy. There are people who would LOVE to have a puppy.”
He shrugged. “After that, was my last family. A newlywed couple. I’d… pretty much lost faith in humanity by then, after all I’d seen and all I’d been through… but I gave them one last chance. And for a little while, it was great. But there was always this voice in the back of my head…” His voice cracked again. “It asked when they’d be ditching me like the others. And… I only had to wait two years. Her scent changed. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what it meant. They never TOLD me… but I knew. She was going to have a baby… which meant they didn’t need me anymore. I sprained my ankle and bruised a rib when they pushed me out of the car. They didn’t even stop… I kept hoping it was an accident, and decided to go back to them, just in case… It took me two weeks to walk across town, cross the bridges to the island, and find our house… empty.”
Charlie gasped. “No…”
“Yes. Empty. They’d purchased a new house without telling me, then got rid of me and had their friends come help them pack up so they’d be gone by the time I got back… Which I learned from the neighbor dog. A week later, Agnes found me, brought me here. Well.. THERE. Fixed me up, gave me my own apartment.” His voice broke altogether, and he turned to bury his face into Charlie’s chest.
“Oh, Mr. Westlake… Why doesn’t anybody want me? Am I a bad dog?” He looked up at Charlie, his eyes full of tears. He was full-on sobbing now. Charlie pulled him into his chest, rubbing the back of his head soothingly, holding him.
“No, no, West, you’re a very good dog… You’re always protecting others, keeping an eye on suspicious people… You’re a good boy… It’s those people, you’ve just had bad luck with people…”
And so they stayed together, Charlie carefully stroking West’s head as West bawled his eyes out, until the elevator techs were able to get the doors open to get them out. That was when Charlie realized that somehow, sometime, this grouchy little dog had grown on him. He smiled down at him forlornly, stroking his soft fur. It desperately needed a brushing. And he desperately needed a home.


Chapter 18: Mutual Understanding

West was quiet as he sat in the backseat of Charlie’s car. “I… um… Can we pretend that whole thing in the elevator… didn’t happen?” He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I was… uh… just a little stressed out.”
Charlie glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “I won’t mention it to anybody else, I promise. You’ve been under a lot of stress for a long time, and you’re not really built for that. I do, however, want to talk a bit more about it.”
West groaned gently. “Do we HAVE to?” He rolled his eyes.
“Yes. I feel like we made a pretty big breakthrough there, and I want to pick up where we left off. It sounds like you have abandonment issues, which might be why you feel the need to police everything I do and makes you overly protective of the others.”
West grumbled. “And what, you wanna be my therapist now? Gonna make me feel all better?” He huffed and looked out the window. He had to admit, he was a bit nervous to be riding in the car with Charlie, given how his last car ride had gone, which was why he had taken the furthest spot from him.
“No, I just… I feel like if I can understand your reasons for your behavior, I can behave and explain things in a way that’ll leave you more satisfied with what I’m trying to do, and will in turn get you to behave in a way that will drive me less crazy.” He stopped the car at a traffic light. “You know, help us get along.”
“I don’t WANT to get along with you! Getting along means…” He trailed off, putting his ears back. “Forget it. It’s nothing.” He huffed.
Charlie sighed. “I know. You’re worried if you’re not actively trying not to get along with me, you’ll end up letting your guard down and letting me get close enough to hurt you.” He accelerated the car into a turn. “What if I promise not to get that close to YOU? I don’t plan on sticking around. Once all the renovations are done and the place is running smoothly, I’m going to hire a manager. I can’t work from my office forever, you know.”
It was quiet in the car for several minutes, then Charlie grinned. “Incidentally, your fur is VERY soft and you give EXCELLENT snuggles.”
West felt his cheeks warm up and the tips of his ears burn with a blush. “THAT never happened and if you tell anybody I’ll deny it and then-”
“I know, I know, you’ll bite me, right? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody you cried like a little pup and gave a HUMAN a hug.” He grinned wickedly. “For three hours.”
West threw his hands up in the air. “So maybe it’s BEEN a while since I’ve had any real physical contact! It’s not a crime! Maybe the only person who ever shows affection toward me is Aspen and that’s because he’s still a pup! He’s only like eight, that’s like twelve, maybe thirteen in human years! It doesn’t count when HE does it!”
The car skidded to a halt at a stop sign, then slowly resumed. “He’s only eight?! But he acts so mature!” Charlie glanced at him in the rearview mirror. He realized he’d never bothered to ask, either. “I’ve never really spent much time around dogs, so unless you’re blatantly old or young, I can’t really gauge your age.” Charlie confessed. “He’s really just a child?”
West nodded, then realized Charlie couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Agnes put him in with me because she knew I could take care of him. He was adopted out of the pound by a seventy-year-old woman. She wanted a companion in her old age, but it was only about eighteen months later that the family put her in a nursing home and put HIM on the street. He’s not the youngest there, either. Allison’s only three. She lives in 2E, with Greta. The little bulldog with the shar pei?”
“I’ve seen them… I thought she was just small.” Charlie frowned. He’d thought he’d learned most about most of the residents, at least their basic information.
“It’s hard to tell because the pups never really got to act like pups. They’ve been working basically since they were born to survive. Even in Stray Dog Heights, it’s hard to get by.”
“It’s called-”
“Yeah, I know, you named it after Agnes. It’s been Stray Dog Heights for ten years and I’m not changing now.” He huffed. “You can call it by its ‘official’ name all you like, it’s always gonna be Stray Dog Heights to me.”
Charlie sighed. “Yeah, I guess it would be.” He pulled into the parking lot, but didn’t unlock the door yet. “Look… For what it’s worth, your presentation was good. Well thought-out. Better than I would have expected.” He turned in his seat to look at him. “West… I’m sorry you had to go through all that. The stuff you told me about, I mean. There’s some horrible people out there, and nobody deserves to go through all that. I don’t think you’re unwantable or unloveable.”
West stared up at him, putting his ears back. “Gee, thanks. What a vote of confidence from the guy who literally only tolerates me because he’s not allowed to kick me out.”
“I’m serious. You’ve had an awful time of life, but I promise, you don’t need to let it get to you. I’m sure, if you let them, somebody out there would want you. You could have a happy life somewhere, with someone who loves you. You may even eventually learn to love them back.” He looked down at West quietly, noticing for the first time that his eyes didn’t match. His left eye was green, and the right was sky blue. With his black and white malamute patterning, it was actually kind of striking.
West looked away and hugged his knees. “... I’m not sure I have any more love to give. I gave so much of it, and all I ever got in return was lied to and betrayed.”
Charlie watched him for a moment, then reached back and tweaked his ear. “Aspen seems to love you. You’re probably like a father figure to him.”
He pulled away, rubbing the ear. “More like an older brother. And anyway, it’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?” He turned off the car and let the doors unlock. “It seems to me that he relies on you, and he’s lucky to have you.” He reached back and grabbed his hand. “It seems to me that they ALL rely on you one way or another. I haven’t spoken to one resident that hasn’t mentioned you helping them out at some point. Not one.” He gave him a little smile. “I think you care more than you let on.”
West rolled his eyes, pulled his hand free, and opened the door. “Lies and slander. I only care about myself, and my home. Everything else is just a coincidence.”
Charlie watched him go, sitting in his car and thinking for a few moments, until he was interrupted by his phone ringing. He checked the caller ID, then answered it with a grin. “Hey, babe. How was Miami with the girls?” He listened to the voice on the other end of the line. “Oh, she did NOT! … Uh-huh? Oh, I haven’t been by the apartment in a few weeks, I’m staying at the building that Great Aunt Agnes left me. You’d like it here, the place is FULL of dogs and a few cats. … Can you come stay? … Sure, I don’t see why not. Pack a swimsuit and some extra towels. … Yeah, a pool, can you believe it?”
He grinned and got out of the car, looking around. “I’ve got the place looking much nicer than it was when I first got here. Still need to redo the parking lot though. Oh, you know how I never really cared much for dogs? Well, there’s one living here that I kind of like. I was thinking about trying to talk him into coming with me, when I move back into the apartment. He’s a malamute, a pretty one. He needs a good grooming, he’s kind of a mess. He DOES have an attitude, though. All the animals here have some pretty damaged pasts, but this one… wow, he’s a trooper.”
He listened for a few more moments. “I know you said you didn’t want to have to take care of a dog, but this one’s a special case. I bet you can make an exception.” He started inside, listening. “Oh, I think you’ll like him, but I gotta warn you, he’s a little… abrasive. Probably won’t let you pet him.” He listened for a few more moments. “You’ll be here tomorrow? I’ll be sure to meet you. The dogs keep the door locked except during visiting hours, so you’ll need me to let you in.”


Chapter 19: Mrs. Westlake

Early in the morning, Charlie lingered by the door, nervously wringing his hands. Patch stood at his elbow, looking out the window with him. After nearly twenty minutes, Patch looked up. “What are we waiting for, by the way?”
Charlie blinked down at the cat, looking almost surprised to see him there. “Oh, hi, Patch. I didn’t notice you. My wife is coming to stay with us today and she said she’d be here early, so I’m waiting to open the door for her.”
“I didn’t know you were married! Is she pretty?” Patch purred up at him playfully. He wanted to know more.
“Oh, she’s gorgeous. I love her so much, and I’m lucky she chose me. She’s gonna love you guys, too. She’s a big animal fan.” He reached down and scratched Patch between the ears absently. Patch purred, leaning into the touch. “Her name is Rebecca, or Becky for short. She’s a little younger than me, I’m twenty-five and she’s twenty-two. We’ve known each other for a while, since we were teenagers, but we didn’t start dating until we both moved back into town after college.”
Patch purred more and stepped closer for more scritches. “So where’s she been the past few months? You’ve been here a while, and this is the first I’ve heard of her.”
“Oh, she spent the summer in Miami with her girlfriends. She works remotely and her boss doesn’t care about what hours she keeps as long as her work gets done, so she just took her laptop with her and did all her work in the mornings so she could spend the afternoons on the beach.” He complied with Patch’s unspoken demand, moving his hand down to scritch the back of his head. “She got back into town yesterday and spent the night in our penthouse, but she’s coming here to stay until the renovations are done.”
Patch switched his tail, leaning into the scritches happily. “Mm… that’s the spot, right there…”
Charles looked down at him, amused. “You guys are so much more mature than most pets. I forget you actually are just animals sometimes.” He ran a hand through Patch’s fur, stroking head to mid-back, which was all he could reach without bending down. “I got to pet West yesterday. We were trapped in an elevator for a couple hours.”
Patch blinked in surprise. “And he let you TOUCH him? He HATES being touched!”
He shrugged. “I told him I wouldn’t give out details, but we’re attributing it to stress. He was having a rough day so I was able to pet him.”
A red convertible pulled into the parking lot and parked next to Charles’s car. The woman driving put the hood up, then spent a moment to make sure it was locked up tight before starting toward the door.
Patch purred. “Ooh, she’s pretty. Is that her?”
Charles nodded and prepared to open the door for her. “That’s her. That’s my Becky.”
As the woman came in from the chilly morning air, she gave Charlie a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you so much, babe! Oh, and who’s THIS little cutie?!” She grabbed Patch by the face and scrubbed his cheeks with her palms, curling her fingers around to scritch his cheeks just behind his jaw. He purred wildly, his tail swishing enthusiastically.
“That’s Patch. He’s one of the residents here. He’s been waiting with me so I wouldn’t be lonely.” Charlie grinned, watching Patch melt into Becky’s loving strokes. Becky was definitely more practiced with petting cats than Charlie was; she’d grown up with dogs, after all.
“He’s such a little CUTIE PIE is what he is!” She cooed in babyspeak, fluffing and stroking Patch happily as she got down to her knees to reach him better.
Patch giggled and purred wildly, thoroughly enjoying the attention. “It’s nice to meet you, too!”
Charlie watched for a few moments, grinning, then looked up. “Looks like the kitchen is opening up for the morning. Shall we go to the cafe for some breakfast?”
“Breakfast sounds lovely. Let’s bring the kitty.” Becky grinned up at him, then stood up and reached for Patch’s hand.
Over house-made bagels, Becky and Charlie caught up while Patch enjoyed myriad pettings and scritches. Eventually, other residents started stumbling sleepily into the cafe for their breakfasts, and Becky went wild, petting as many of them as would let her and happily greeting each of them, running around the cafe excitedly. Charlie grinned. “I told you she’d like it here.”
Patch pouted a little that he had to share his scritches, but seemed amused at Becky’s excitement. “She’s like the complete opposite of you. When you first walked in here, the first thing you said was ‘ew, it smells like dog.’ She’s running around trying to PET all the dogs.”
“To be fair, it STANK in here. It smells much better now.”
“Or you’re just used to it. But you DID replace the carpets, so maybe it DOES smell a little better.”
After greeting every single resident that entered the cafe, Becky came back and flicked her blonde hair back behind her ears. “So, which one is that troublemaker you told me about? One of these? Or are there more?”
Patch glanced around and did a quick headcount. “There’s one more cat and three dogs missing. West’s almost definitely at work already.”
Charlie nodded. “He is, he left not long after I got up. Pansy sleeps late because her job is at night, and Aspen is probably on his way down now.”
“They have jobs? That’s so cute!” Becky squealed with delight.
Charlie nodded. “Before I got here, they were living here, but they had to fend for themselves. I set up a nonprofit to at least make sure they were all getting food every day, and the cafe is open to the public during visiting hours, to help pay for it all. A lot of these guys were rib-counting skinny before, but they’ve all plumped up to look a lot healthier. I’ve even got a vet volunteering time on the weekends down the hall, so they can all get their shots and any medical help they need.”
The day went on, and Becky settled in. She retrieved her luggage from her car and took it into Charlie’s apartment, then came out in her skimpy swimsuit so she could go swimming with the residents. They all seemed to love her as she splashed and played with them most of the day, until she looked like a wrinkly raisin. After lunch, she took them all to one of the old conference rooms that Charlie hadn’t designated for anything yet, pinned a thick blanket over the window, and set up a projector she retrieved from her car’s trunk so she could cuddle into a pile of residents and watch a movie with them.
Charlie made a note to fill that room with seats and cushions and a big flatscreen, and maybe a fridge with some snacks in it. People would LOVE that.
Then, at around seven o’clock, came the moment of truth. West let himself in through the front door and was excitedly greeted by people, telling him to come meet Mrs. Westlake. West took a sniff of the air, seeming distracted, and his ears went back. He waved away the residents swarming him and slowly approached Becky, sniffing the air. He looked up at her, taking a sniff, and his eyes filled with tears. Charlie blinked down at West. Was something wrong?
West’s voice cracked as he looked up at her. “... Becca? My little Becca? Is that you? You’ve grown so big…” He hugged into her leg and nuzzled her hip. “You came back to me.”


Chapter 20: Becca

Rebecca Westlake looked down at the dog hugging into her leg, stunned. He was a malamute, black and white, with mismatched eyes, a hoodie with gray fabric everywhere except the green sleeves, and an orange collar with a tag shaped like a fancy compass needle. She reached down and scratched him between the ears. A lot of the other dogs surrounding them took in a tense breath, but nothing happened, and they seemed to relax. “I’m… sorry, you must have confused me with somebody else. My mom, and my daddy used to call me Becca, but…”
West let go and shook his head. “No, you probably don’t remember… you were only six, it was a long time ago… but I never forgot. I’d know you by scent anywhere. My little Becca.” He wiped away a soft tear. “You left me at the park, just after you’d turned seven. I was just a pup, I couldn’t even read. I didn’t know how to find you… I did see you, one other time, when I was in the pound, but your parents… they wouldn’t even let you look in my direction. I think they were worried you’d recognize me.”
Becky blinked down at him and squatted to see him, pulling back his fur, looking him in the face. She tilted her head and stared at him, squinting as if trying to remember some long-forgotten memories. “... Princie?”
He nodded, his eyes filling with tears. “It’s… It’s West, now… My second family changed my name.” He hugged into her, his tail starting to wag.
Aspen gawped. He’d never seen West wag his tail. He hadn’t even been sure West knew HOW to wag his tail.
West closed his eyes and moved in to hug Becky bodily, pressing his ear to her chest, closing his eyes. His voice cracked. “I missed you. I missed… ALL of you. I didn’t get to watch you grow up. I thought I’d never see you again.”
She hugged him back, stroking his back. “There, there… It’s all right, Princie- I mean, West.” She sat on the floor and let him get closer, gently rubbing his back and head, stroking his ears. “I don’t remember much about you. I remember we were friends. I remember one day you were… just gone. Daddy said you went to live somewhere else, and then I just… forgot about you.”
West pulled back to look her in the face. “How IS Dan? And… Deborah, was it?”
Becky stroked his head for a few moments before answering. “Daddy passed, about ten years ago. He got sick. They got me a new puppy to help distract me from it. That puppy still lives with mom, about five minutes’ drive from here. We never lived that far from you at all…” She gave a little smile. “We can call her, if you like. You can say hello.”
He nodded. “I’d… I’d like that.”
Becky pulled out her phone and dialed a video call. An elderly woman of about fifty-five to sixty answered. West sat off-screen, watching. He recognized her right away. The old woman squinted at the phone for a moment. “Oh, hello, Becky! Just a moment, I don’t have my glasses on.” She disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with glasses. “How are you today?”
Becky smiled. “I’m fine, mom. I’m with Charlie at the apartment building he inherited from his Great Aunt Agnes.”
“I saw him on the television a couple weeks ago. Dogs! Can you believe it! He hates dogs! That’s why Buffy still lives with me!”
A nose appeared on the screen, replacing the old lady, and a jack russell terrier grinned down at them. “Hi, Becky! You’re not petting other dogs, are you?”
“Hi, Buffy, I’m petting LOTS of other dogs. Sorry.” Becky grinned. “Hey, mom, I ran into an old friend here.” She waved for West to get in view of the camera, and West hesitantly edged closer. Once he was onscreen, he gave a shy little wave to Debby through the camera. “Hi, Debby… You probably don’t remember me, but-”
Debby squinted at the screen, and her eyes lit up. “Is that Princie?! Wow, I thought for sure he’d be d- I mean, have left the area by now. It’s good to see you, Princie. Sorry about that little… mix-up, back then. I’m afraid Dan insisted.”
West gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, that? It’s already forgotten, no big deal. And it’s West now.”
“West, eh? Such a lovely name. Well, I’m happy you’ve found each other again. You used to be such good friends. Nearly inseparable, actually.”
“It’s good to see you, Deb.” West smiled through the camera at her.

After the phone call, it was like pulling teeth to get West away from Becky for even a moment. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Even when she went to the bathroom, he would stand outside, anxiously pacing back and forth in front of the door.
Charlie knelt in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. “West… You’re being a little clingy, bud.”
West put his ears back. “Yeah, I know… I can’t help it. I haven’t seen Becca in twelve years! Last time I saw her, aside from when I was in the pound, was when we had that picnic, and then she just disappeared! I can’t relax, what if she disappears on me again? What if it’s ANOTHER fourteen years before I see her AGAIN?!” His ears flicked upward anxiously. “What if she’s already slipped away while I’ve been talking to you? WHAT IF SHE’S ONLY PRETENDING TO LIKE ME?!”
Charlie gave him a little shake. “Hey. Snap out of it, bud. Becky’s not going anywhere. She came here to stay with me in my apartment. She’s my WIFE. She won’t leave YOU, because she isn’t going to leave ME. And you know, you’re STUCK with me.”
West paused for a few moments, then gave a little growl. “And who told YOU that you could marry MY BECCA?” He pretended to nip at him, a little bit of playfulness peeking through. “That’s my Becca, not YOURS.” His tail wagged as he put Charlie’s arm in his mouth and bit down barely until his teeth touched Charlie’s skin, doing this fake chomp a couple times before backing off.
A hand gripped his head from behind and ruffled his ears. “Hey now. No biting my husband, you silly pup.” Becky snickered. “So, you’re the troublemaker that Charlie told me about. Always second-guessing every move he makes, yelling at him in front of the press, threatening to bite him? You’re just a protective little pup, aren’t you? AREN’T YOU?!” Her voice regressed to the baby talk tone as she fluffed West’s cheeks, sending strands of shed fur flying everywhere as she released it from his overcoat.
She frowned and pulled a gentle pinching maneuver, pulling a handful of fluff away with her hand. “Oh, you poor thing! When was the last time you were properly groomed? There’s so MUCH here, you must be boiling alive, ALL THE TIME.”
West put his ears back, a little embarrassed. “Well.. I’ve been living here for five years… so… longer than that?”
Becky grinned and pulled him in for a hug. “Well, now that you’re my dog again, I’ll make sure you get properly groomed at least once a month, and brushed EVERY DAY.”
West squeaked. “W-wait, what? I’m…”
“My dog. My best boy. That is… if you want to be.” Becky smiled at him.
West’s tail started wagging overtime, scattering fluff all over the place. “Y-yes! Yes, a thousand times, yes! I’d LOVE to be your dog again!”

[GingaDensetsuAleu]

Chapter 21: Moving pains

“So you’re just gonna pack up and move in with Westlake? Just like that?” Aspen dodged aside as West pushed his basket down the hall, full of his belongings.
“Yeah. It’s Becca. I love Becca. I’d do anything for Becca.”
“West, you don’t even KNOW her anymore! You haven’t seen her since she was SIX! You were a PUPPY the last time you saw her! Don’t you think MAYBE you’re remembering her through rose lenses?”
“That’s rose-colored glasses, Aspen. And no, she’s just as sweet and loveable as I remember. She already asked me to move in with her because she remembers me and we’re still best friends.” West grunted as his basket came to a stop by the door, and he grinned. “I’ve missed her so much.”
Aspen grabbed him by the shoulders. “But does it have to be TODAY?! Can’t I have one last night with you?” He put his ears back. “I’m gonna… I’ll miss you.” He gave a little whimper.
West sighed and gave him a hug. “You don’t have to miss me. It’ll be like you’re home alone. You can throw a party, have people over and be noisy.”
“But-”
“I’ll be just down in the admin office. It’s not like I’m going far.” He patted Aspen’s head quietly. “We can have supper together. I’ll bring home my food, we can eat in the cafe.”
Aspen pouted. “It’s not the same, West.” He hugged him. “Please don’t go. Not yet. Not today. If you’re really gonna move in with them when they leave, then you’ll have the rest of your life with them. Stay with me, just a little bit longer.”
West sighed again, considering. He could stay, but then Aspen would just beg again later. “No, it’s better to just rip off the bandage than peel it slowly. If I stay tonight, you’ll want me to stay tomorrow, too. Where does it end? Besides, this way you get your own apartment.” He scooped up his basket and fumbled it through the door.
Once he was gone, Aspen sat on the floor and hugged his knees, watching the door. “I… don’t want my own apartment. I want my best friend.”

Becky met West at the elevator and helped him carry his basket into the administrator’s apartment, patiently waiting while he selected the perfect spot for it. He unpacked, setting his few belongings up around his basket and climbing in to smile up at her lovingly. She smiled back.
After a moment, she went into the other room and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “See, I told you I could get him to behave. Although, him being the dog I had when I was a little girl was a surprise.”
Charlie looked up from his paperwork and smiled. “You really wanna take him back to the penthouse with us?”
“Oh, goodness, no, but if he THINKS he’s coming with, he’ll behave himself until we’ve finished with the renovations and hired a manager to run the place.”
There was a pause, then Charlie frowned. “He’s going to be SO MUCH WORSE after you’ve finished playing with his emotions like that. Did you know that? He’s ALREADY got abandonment issues.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you cared. I’ll say it again, I love dogs, I love cats, but I don’t want to have to deal with taking care of one full-time. It’s too much work, and we wouldn’t be able to just leave on vacation any time we want like we can now.” She kissed his cheek again. “No, he’s staying here. But I don’t mind playing along and letting him stay in the admin apartment for the two months or so that we’re still working on renovations.”
Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah… I guess so… Still, I feel a little bit bad about doing that to him. He’s already been abandoned way too many times… it’s gonna break his poor little heart.”
She shrugged. “And it’ll be somebody else’s problem. This place is just our little tax break. So long as the foundation is tied to your business, we’ll never have to pay taxes again. It was a great idea.”

West tossed and turned. He could hear Agnes’s old grandfather clock ticking away as its inner clockworking slowly unwound itself. It was one of the few things Agnes had left here that was still here. He sighed and lifted his head out of his basket and let himself out of the apartment, tiptoeing up the stairs and knocking on the door of his old apartment. It was only seconds before Aspen answered it, then hugged him and let him in.
“I couldn’t sleep… I guess I got accustomed to you being in the next room.”
Aspen pressed into him, closing his eyes. “I missed you, too. This apartment is lonely when I’m the only one in it.”
West hugged Aspen back silently for a few moments. “I’m sorry I was so… abrupt, earlier. I was so excited to see Becca again…” He took a deep breath, then let go. “Do you mind if I sleep over tonight?
Aspen feigned thinking about it. “Hmm, I don’t know, it’s better to just rip off the bandage than to peel it slowly…” He teased, then led West toward his room. “Come on, we can snuggle like we used to when I first got here and I was having nightmares.”
West chuckled. “You were so cute at that age. Four years old, barely housetrained. I had to bring you food every day, because you hadn’t figured out you could collect and sell scrap to get money and buy your own food.”
Aspen climbed into his little pillow and patted the spot next to himself. “Yeah… good times… You used to bring me spicy things on purpose just to watch me suffer.”
West sniggered. “I liked that stand. It was a shame when they had to shut down. Best stuff in the district.”
“Too spicy.” He stuck his tongue out and cuddled into West’s side. “I like the wrap stand you go to, though. That place is good. Although yours is always bigger than mine.”
“Ah, you gotta become friends with the owner, then she’ll give you a little bit extra.” He grinned and grabbed Aspen’s jacket from the floor, pulling it over him playfully. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you started wearing your jacket because it was similar to my hoodie.”
Aspen giggled and gave a shy little blush. “Guilty. I was six, you’d practically raised me! I wanted to be like you!” He paused, then nuzzled into West’s chest. “I… STILL wanna be like you.”
West put his ears back, and pulled Aspen’s chin up to look him in the eye. “Don’t you DARE become like me. Not now, not ever, no matter what happens. You can be SO MUCH better than me.” He looked at him seriously. “There’s no reason to try to be like me.”
“I beg to differ.” Aspen cuddled close. “Sure, you’re a little neurotic and untrusting, but you take care of everybody. When the dogs in 2A got sick, you bought them medicine. When we started having a hard time finding food, you bought some for everybody. You’re constantly helping us, even though you don’t have to. You even protect us. Let us know when animal control is in the area so we can make sure to keep the doors locked. When those thugs from the Eastern Brigade tried to take over the area, you chased them off. West, you’re AMAZING.”
West nodded quietly. “I… guess I do… but still…”
“No. No more talking down on yourself. You’re amazing, and that’s all there is to it.” Aspen closed his eyes. “Now sleep. You have to work in the morning.”


Chapter 22: Time and Telling

Charlie stood at the front door and watched the construction crew lay out fresh concrete in the parking lot. He checked his list. There were only two apartments slated for construction left. With a sigh, he turned away. The renovations would be complete within a week. And then he’d have to find a manager. And break West’s heart.
He glanced over at the malamute, hanging out in the lounge. He’d been so happy the past six weeks, snuggling into Becky, laughing and playing and even opening up to Charlie more. All the while, Charlie had secretly hoped Becky would change her mind. That she would decide to take West home with her after all. But even as of last night, she was still planning on letting him think he was going right up until they left him here.
He sighed and hung his head. He knew what he had to do. But he wasn’t sure he COULD. He turned and went into his office. He grabbed his laptop and opened up a browser window. He had some phone calls to make, and he wasn’t happy with it. But, sometimes, you had to do what you had to do.

West grinned and jumped into the pool, performing a cannonball and splashing everywhere. Now that he’d been properly groomed, his fur was thinned out, with less trapped shed, and he could enjoy the water much better. Most of his floof wet down now while he was wet, instead of staying thick and fluffy underneath the wet layers.
He wagged his tail underwater and swam over to Becca, splashing her playfully. “Hah, you got wet.”
“I’m ALREADY wet, you silly mutt.” She snickered and splashed him back. “You goof.”
He grinned and hugged into her. “Heh… We’re having so much fun, I can’t wait to see how much fun we have when we live together properly, like a proper family.”
Becca grinned at him. “Oh, that’s gonna be so much fun. We’ll watch TV together, have pancakes for breakfast twice a week, go to the Bahamas just for fun on the weekends, it’ll be great.”
West’s tail wagged overtime, creating a current in the pool. “I can’t wait!”
She stroked his head and scratched behind his ears. “Me, too. It’s gonna be great.”
West grinned and swam away, padding out of the shallows and up the stairs. He paused to shake off, then started toward the deep end to jump in again, but Patch grabbed him by the arm. “West, Charlie wants to talk to you. He said not to let Becca know where you were going, because he doesn’t want her there for the moment.”
West frowned. “Why would Charlie want to talk to me without Becca? Maybe it’s about the park proposal… We haven’t heard anything since the presentation.” He started to dry off. “But then… why exclude Becca?”
Patch shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s just what he told me.” He turned to leave. “Better hurry, he seemed pretty agitated.”
West sighed and dried off quickly, pulling on his hoodie over his still-damp fur and pocketing his collar. He waved good-bye to Becca, then went down the hall and knocked on the door to the admin office.
“Come in, West.” Charlie’s voice sounded. When West came in, Charlie motioned for him to lock the door. There was another man, a man in a suit, in the office.
West put his ears back and locked the door. Charlie nodded gently at the chair across from him, then smiled forlornly. West took a seat, and Charlie began.
“West, this is Mr. Marino. He’s a lawyer, specifically one specializing in asset management and prenuptial agreements.” He indicated the man in the chair next to him. “He’s helping me divorce Rebecca.”
West put his ears back. “Wh- but why are you leaving Becca? She’s your wife.”
Charlie sighed. “Because of you, West. Specifically, because of what she’s planning on doing to you.”
West put his ears back. “... What do you mean?”
“She’s been telling you that she plans to take you back with us when we return to our normal apartment. This isn’t true. She just wants you to behave yourself and stay out of the way so we can finish the renovations.” Charlie rubbed his temples. “I was hoping she would change her mind after spending some time with you, but as of last night, she’s still not showing any signs of it. I can’t just stand there and watch your heart get broken again, West. You mean too much to me.”
West stood up in his chair. “N-no! You’re lying! Becca wouldn’t do that to me! She WOULDN’T!”
Charlie sighed. “Unfortunately, she would. I knew you might not believe me, so I recorded our conversation last night.” He turned his laptop to show West the video. It started with Charlie setting up the recording, then Becca came into view. They chatted for a moment, then Charlie casually brought up West. “Still planning on just leaving him here when we move out? No change of heart at all?” Charlie pressed her in the recording.
The recording of Becca sighed. “This again? I told you, I don’t wanna deal with taking care of a pet. It’s fun to visit and play with them, but I don’t want to be weighed down with one.”
“He’ll be heartbroken. You know that, right?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just a dog. It’s not like he’s human.”
West put his ears back and looked away. “S-stop, just stop it. I’ve seen enough.” He sniffled a little, scrubbing his eyes. “I’m so… STUPID. Why did I- I just can’t-!”
Charlie closed his laptop and sighed. “West, the reason I called you in here is because I want to transfer ownership of the foundation to you before I file the divorce. Otherwise, Becky gets half of it, and she could do anything she wanted just out of spite.”
West grunted. “She’s not the little girl I used to know. Aspen warned me, and I was just so happy, I didn’t listen..”
“West, I know you’re upset, but I need you to focus.” Charlie reached over and shook his shoulder. “I’m giving you the building. It’s going to be YOURS. But I’d like to stay on as the manager.”
West looked up from hiding his face in his hands. “Wait, but your company…?”
“No way around it, she’s gonna get it in the divorce, and I’m going to let her take it, so she doesn’t push to try to get this place.” He sighed. “Honestly, it’s a huge load off. I wasn’t happy there, and haven’t been for a long time.”
Mr. Marino pulled out a paper from his briefcase and pushed it across the desktop to West. “Just sign this, and you’ll own the foundation. Technically, we can’t give you the BUILDING, but if you own the foundation, it’s pretty much the same thing.”
West hesitated and looked at the paper. “... Wait, really? You want to… give it to ME? Why?”
Charlie reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “So you never have to rely on anybody, ever again. You’ll be in control. Nobody can kick you out.” He gave him a little smile.
West looked up at him. “... Okay.” He reached up and signed.


Chapter 23: Betrayal and Beginning Anew

The hardest part of the next few weeks was, for West, watching Becky lie to his face when he told her how excited he was to be moving in with her. She was already packing, moving stuff back to the apartment, but always found an excuse not to bring him with.
He often lay awake in his basket, thinking about the false promises she’d made each day, and how much he would love if they were real. Tears came frequently, and he hated it. Where had the tough West gone, the one that never let anything bother him, never let humans dictate how he felt? The renovations were starting to wrap up; all the apartments had been remodeled, the parking lot relaid and painted, the bricks outside stained so they all matched. New buildings had begun to appear in the areas surrounding the Foundation, and the city had even begun clearing broken old roadways to make space for the new park.
Charlie’s lawyer was frequently in the cafe, working on the paperwork with Charlie. Everything had to be set up just right before Becky was served the divorce papers, all to prevent her from doing anything to the building or its residents.
Finally, the paperwork came. As expected, Becky was furious. She stomped into the admin office and could be heard yelling for hours. To his credit, Charlie never once raised his voice back at her as she angrily shrieked and screamed, then stomped out of the apartment with a slammed door and skid marks from her car on the new pavement.
Charlie slowly walked out of the office with a tired sigh. “Well… it’s done. She’s got the paperwork. I bet this is over within a week. I intend to let her take anything she wants as long as she doesn’t go after this building.”

As expected, the divorce was short and brutal. Becky took everything she could: The summer home, their penthouse, both of the cars, almost all of the contents of their shared bank accounts; anything she could get. Charlie was left with the clothes on his back and the contents of the administrator apartment at the Foundation, which wasn’t much given Becky had already moved almost everything to the penthouse before she was served the papers.
The day after the paperwork was signed and finalized, West entered the apartment and climbed up on the couch next to Charlie. He was quiet for a few moments, letting Charlie brood, then leaned against him gently. Charlie lifted a hand and scratched behind West’s ears.
After a few minutes, West spoke up. “I’m… sorry about Becky. I’m sorry she took everything. And I’m sorry you did all that just for me.”
Charlie looked down and gave him a weak smile. “I didn’t do it JUST for you… we’ve been having problems for a while. Becky was… well… kind of a money hog. She only liked me for the lifestyle I could give her. That’s what she was most mad about last week, when she got the paperwork. She was mad that I was taking away her lifestyle. Now, well.. I’m not exactly PENNILESS, but I’m not exactly rich anymore, either.” He pulled him in for a hug.
West looked down, then back up at him. “But you DID decide to do it because of me.”
He gave a little nod. “Yeah. I saw how she was treating you and decided, if she could treat YOU that way, how could I be sure she wasn’t treating ME that way? And then I realized, she HAS been, for months. Years, even. And I decided, I couldn’t let her keep doing it. Not to me, not to you, not to anybody. Not on my dime.”
West lay down, putting his head in Charlie’s lap. “... I’m proud of you. You did something that didn’t profit you, for the benefit of someone else.” His tail thumped gently. “And it hurt, but you did it anyway.”
Charlie scritched West under the chin, and West made a happy little noise, tilting his head up. Charlie watched his movements and wondered how touch-starved West had been before, that he would allow this now.
“You’re good people, Dad.” West’s proclamation came through closed eyes and a wagging tail.
Charlie felt his eyes watering up, and it took him a few moments to realize why. West had called him, good people. West didn’t believe in good people. West had called him Dad. He looked down at West, touched his tag. He could see that West had scratched out his old address, apparently a long time ago, based on the color of the scratches. Becky had never bothered replacing his tag, since she never actually planned to bring him with her.
“... And you’re a good boy, West. A good dog.”

The next day, the cafe had a celebratory meal. It was the same as their regular fare, except there were cupcakes today. At supper, Charlie stood up and tapped a spoon against his glass to make a speech.
“As you all know, my wife and I just went through a messy divorce, and she took almost everything I owned. So, unfortunately, as this is the only place I have to stay for the moment, you’re all stuck with me.”
There was playful jeering, though nobody really meant it. He waited for it to stop, then continued.
“Some weeks ago, I signed the foundation over to one of you, one you all know. One that’s been through more than a lot of you have been. West?”
He looked down and put out his hand, and West climbed up to stand on the seat next to him so everybody could see. Charlie continued.
“West has been in possession of the Foundation’s funds, care of me, for the past month. You all know West; he’s done something for all of you when you needed help. But now, I would like to do something for West.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a tag, just like West’s old one, and held it up. “I would like to officially welcome West home. Let’s everybody give a round of applause for our generous benefactor, West Westlake!” He turned and removed the tag from West’s collar, replacing it with the shiny new tag with the building’s address and Charlie’s phone number on it.
West stared up at him, eyes round. They slowly started filling with tears, and he grabbed hold of Charlie to hug him as soon as he was done fiddling with his collar. He barely even heard the applause.
Only those standing nearest heard West whisper to Charlie. “I love you, Dad.”
And Charlie whispered back, “I love you, too, bud.”


Chapter 24: Bittersweet

West stood on tiptoe to see his new tag in the mirror, his ears held back nervously as he touched it, almost afraid it would disappear. He wasn’t wearing his hoodie now, and hadn’t been for a few days. There was no need; since he’d quit his job at the museum, he didn’t need to worry about whether it would rain anymore, and his new tag meant he didn’t need to worry about animal control getting too close.
He wagged his tail happily and jumped down off the little stool, sliding it back under the counter and running out to the kitchen to give Charlie a hug. “Morning dad. Mmm, that smells good, what are you making?”
Charlie gave an awkward chuckle and showed him his burnt offering. “Well, I WAS making bacon and eggs, but I kinda burnt it a little. Sorry.”
West grinned, and grabbed a fork. “Burned food goes to the dog. Universal rule.”
Charlie laughed and shook his head. “Oh, is THAT the rule? You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never had a dog before.” He scraped the burnt food onto a plate for him and ruffled his head fluff. “There you go, kiddo. Sorry about that.”
“Daaa-aaad, my fluff!” He fixed the tuft of fur on his head with a hand, playfully swatting at him.
“Aww, did I mess up your look? Sorry. You look good.” Charlie teased playfully.
West snickered and dug into the only slightly-burned bacon and scrambled eggs, wagging his tail. “Mmm… This is good. It’s been AGES since I’ve had bacon.”
“Well, you’re gonna be eating it until you’re sick of it. I need more practice.”
“Sick of bacon? NEVER.”
Charlie’s second portion turned out much better, the bacon only extra crispy at the edges and the eggs only slightly overdone. He sat down with West at the table and grinned. “You got plans today? Gonna hang out with your friends?”
West’s tail wagged eagerly. “Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be GREAT! Aspen wanted to meet up at the pool, and Patch said he’d bring his ball!”
Charlie grinned and reached under the table, pulling up a brand-new ball. This one was clean, made to be used in the pool. “Or you could use YOURS.”
West’s eyes lit up, and he reached for it, bouncing excitedly. Charlie snickered and passed it over. “Just make sure to wait an hour before getting in the pool, to let your breakfast digest. And don’t forget your towel!”
“I absolutely will.” He grinned playfully, hugging his ball to his chest before standing up and setting it in his chair so he could take care of his dishes. “You gonna join us?”
“Nah. I gotta go check on the boiler. It’s been acting up again. Might be time to replace the old gal.” Charlie scratched West’s ear. “You go have fun. I’ll see you tonight.”
West gathered up his new ball and his towel and bounced off down the hall to the pool, where he sat on the edge and let his paws dangle while he waited.
It wasn’t long before first Patch, then Aspen joined him, sitting on the poolside, dangling their paws. The three sat in silence for a while, watching the water ripple calmly in the early morning light through the windows. The doors would unlock for the day in a few minutes, and humans would rush in, eager to meet and play with the various dogs and cats still living here.
“It’s not quite the same… but it’s pretty nice.” Patch was the first to speak. He lifted a paw out of the water and wiggled his toes, then lowered it back in.
West nodded. “It’s nice having a family again… I spent so long swearing I never would, I forgot how much I missed it.”
They were quiet for a few more moments, then Aspen and Patch both started at the same time.
“West-”
“West, I-”
They trailed off, then Patch waved a resigned paw at Aspen, signaling for him to go first.
Aspen closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “West… I met a nice family. They’ve been visiting me for a month or so, and yesterday… they asked me to move in with them.”
West nodded quietly, and Patch spoke up. “I… also met someone. A little old lady. She needs someone to take care of her. You know that’s my specialty, helping old ladies through their last few months.”
Everything was quiet for a few moments, and West looked up with tears in his eyes. “So… you’re leaving? Both of you?”
Patch nudged him. “Hey, you’re not rid of me yet. You know old ladies don’t usually last very long. I’ll be back in a year or two. Three, tops.”
Aspen opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. After a while, he found the words. “I… probably won’t be back. Ever. They’re a really nice family, West.”
West leaned in and gave Aspen a hug. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning. They’re going to come by today, help me pack up my stuff, take most of it with them, then come back in the morning for the rest.” He hugged back, putting his ears back. “... I’m gonna miss my big brother.”
“And I’ll miss my little brother. Even if he IS a little pest.” West hugged Aspen quietly, closing his eyes, then reached over and pulled Patch in. “And of course, I’ll miss my best bud, too. When are you leaving?”
Patch hugged them. “Also tomorrow. Sorry.”
They hugged for a few moments, then West swallowed his tears and held up his ball. “Let’s… enjoy our last day together, then. Just like old times.”
“No.” Aspen grabbed his hand. “Just like new times.” He slipped off the side into the pool, stepping back away in chest-high water and waving for them to follow. “Come on!” He forced a smile. “Let’s go, and have some fun before the people get here!”
“I second that.” Patch slipped in, grabbing West’s ball out of his hand.
“Wh-hey!” He laughed, sliding in after them and grabbing for it. “It’s my ball, so I get the first throw!”
“Gonna have to catch me first!” Patch sniggered, holding the ball over his head and walking away through the water as fast as he could.
Charlie stood at the doorway and watched the three play for a while, a sad smile on his face. So much had changed since he’d first gotten here, and not all of it for the better. He wondered if West’s issues would resurface once his friends had left. After a while, he checked his watch and turned around to head down the hall.
Time to unlock the doors and let the people in.
Time to unlock the doors and let old friends out.


Chapter 25: Goodbyes

West put his ears back and sat in the lobby, watching Aspen help his new family load up his stuff. They seemed like nice people; there was a mom and a dad, and a little boy. They seemed excited to have Aspen joining their family. Once they were all loaded, they came back in to speak to Charlie. Aspen went around, saying his goodbyes, then paused at West.
West looked up at Aspen, his eyes filled with tears, then jumped up and hugged him tightly. “Hey, little bro… Be good for your new family, okay?” He sniffled a little, nuzzling into Aspen as Aspen hugged him back. “Be a good boy. Protect them. Don’t let anything hurt them.”
Aspen’s voice cracked a little. “I will, big bro… I will…” He hugged back, nestled his head in West’s shoulder and neck, putting his ears back and sniffling. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”
“Well… you can always come back and visit. I’ll be here.” West sniffled again, then reached behind him and handed a gift box to Aspen. It wasn’t wrapped. “H-here, you’ll need this more than me…”
Aspen took the box and opened it, then gasped and put his ears back. “Y-your hoodie!” He pulled it out of the box. “I can’t take this-”
“You’ll take it and you’ll think of me when you wear it.” West said, trying to sound stern despite the wobble in his voice. “I… I had Dad wash it for you, then I rubbed my scent on it all fresh. It won’t last forever, but… A few days.”
Aspen pinned his ears, took a deep breath, and pulled the sweatshirt on. It was a little too big for him. He pulled the sleeves back to free his hands and hugged West. “I’ll… I’ll think of you always, when I wear it.” He sobbed a little.
West hugged him back and closed his eyes to stop the tears. “You’ll grow into it. I’m gonna miss you, bud.”
“Hey, West?” Aspen’s voice sounded small.
“Hmm?” He hummed questioningly.
Aspen pulled back and looked him in the face. “Thank you for saving me.”
“... What?”
“When I was a puppy, and that man threw me in the river. I finally remembered- it was YOU that saved me. You that ran with me to the pound. You gave yourself up to the pound to get me medical help.” He hugged him. “Thank you.”
West nodded and hugged him back. “And I’ve never regretted it, not for a SECOND. You grew up to be such a good pup, and the world is better for having you in it.”
Aspen nuzzled him one last time, then backed up to get a last look at him. “I… I won’t ever forget you, West.” His voice cracked again as he turned to join his family. West watched them kneel to give him loving pats and hugs, and he held the mom’s hand as they walked out. West walked to the window and watched them climb into the family car, then watched the car until it was out of sight down the road.
A single tear streaked down his cheek until it soaked into his fur. “Bye…”
A hand on West’s shoulder made him turn around, and he looked at Patch. Patch gave a little half-smile, put up a fist. West put up his own fist and bumped it.
Patch grinned. “Look at you, having feelings and all that. Never thought I’d see the day.” He put an arm around him with a gentle purr, nuzzling into West’s forehead. “He’s gonna be alright. You did good, raising him.”
West nodded with a sniffle and used the heels of his hands to try and scrub his eyes dry. “I know… and I’m happy he found a family… but it’s sad to see him go.” He looked out the window again. “I’m gonna miss the little pest.”
Patch gave a sad smile. “I’ll miss him too. But who knows, maybe he’ll end up back here again one day.”
“He’d better not. I’ll track down that family myself if I find out they’ve hurt so much as a single hair on his head.” He gave a protective little snarl. “He’d better live with them for the rest of his life.”
“That’s my West.” Patch punched his arm, then hefted his bag over his shoulder. It was stuffed full of all his belongings. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you in a couple years, hey?”
West nodded and grabbed him, pulling him in for a hug. “Hey, you better not get into any trouble. You take care of that old lady, and then you come right back here. No shenanigans, got it?”
Patch purred and hugged West back. “No promises.” He turned and waved over his shoulder as he walked out the door and was gone. West sniffled quietly to himself and turned toward the admin office and his apartment.

A few days later, West opened the door to 4B and dragged a vacuum inside. He opened the trash bag slung over his shoulder and started cleaning out the apartment. Food left in the cupboards and fridge got tossed, as well as any remaining personal belongings he could see. The vacuum got run over the carpets in the living room, and everything got wiped down.
The apartment had to be ready for some of the new residents coming in from the pound, after all. With the Agnes Home being a much better choice, the city was working on clearing out the pound to shut it down. At least the stray-capturing division of it, anyway.
He went down the hall and cleaned up his old room first, pausing at the window to look at the old view. Old, but completely new. There was almost no trace of the old broken-down downtown left in view. Buildings were popping up, foundations were being poured, and the view looked brand-new and foreign. Once he was done cleaning up his old room, he paused and looked across the hall.
There was only one room left to clean.
Aspen’s room.
He took a deep, shaky breath, and opened it, half expecting to see Aspen inside, running at him to give him a big old flying hug and asking him what took so long. Just like he used to do.
Instead, there was only silence. Silence, Aspen’s jacket laid out, and a note.
West blinked at the note. It had his name on it, spelled wrong and barely legible. He picked it up. Aspen didn’t know how to read, but he’d given it his best shot.
“Wes. I leve tis 4 u. I mis u. Luv u. -Aspn.”

West’s eyes filled with tears again as he picked up the jacket and inhaled deeply. Aspen’s smiling face and glittering eyes flashed through his mind, and he choked back a little sob. After a few moments of just breathing the jacket’s smell, he hesitantly tried to put it on.
A perfect fit.
He smiled and shook his head sadly, pocketing the note and starting to vacuum.
“I’ll think of you always when I wear it, brother. If you ever need me, you know where to find me. I’ll be here. Love you.” He whispered into the void, wiping away a tear.

Miles away, Aspen paused in playing with his new brother to sit on the porch and have a drink. He idly put his hands in his hoodie pocket, then blinked. There was something in there. He pulled it out and looked at it in his hand. It was a dog tag, old and worn-out, in the shape of a fancy compass needle. One side was all scratched up to remove the text, but one word remained, clear as day.
“West.”

The end