The Good Boy Is Max

The first sound I remembered was a loud, pronounced click. I felt the softness of fur surround me immediately, followed by excessive praise.

“Who’s a dapper good boy?!” A young man’s high pitched voice filled the white and grey living room, “You are! You are!” He smiled, his hazel eyes glimmering with joy.

Bark! I flinched at a booming noise piercing through me. Becoming more aware of my surroundings, I see a furry, four-legged creature, the source of the earth-shaking noise. Is this the ‘good boy?’ I felt myself being lurched upwards.

“Get down, Max! Down, Maxie!” The man said, amusement and laughter framing his voice. Just like that, I plummeted downwards, but I did not hit the floor. I was fastened to this boy, it seemed.

“Be a good boy while I’m out, okay?” the man asked his fluffy companion before making the attempt to leave. He got out the white door, turning the gold-colored handle to close it quietly. However, this good boy seemed to follow him, sticking his long, black nose out the door and into the green and blue world.

“I have to go, mister!” The man was laughing, joy etching his face as he smiled at his boy. The good boy barked, then was gently ushered inside. The door closed, leaving me alone with this boy.

The good boy sniffed at the ground, running a few laps around the clean house, then he laid down next to a long piece of plastic in the shape of a bone. He started to gnaw on the toy, growling, contented, while I got my bearings, more thoroughly looking around. I had a piece of plastic and metal clipped onto my metal appendage. It read “Max” and it was in the shape of a two-dimensional bone, like the one this good boy had. On its other side, it had a series of numbers, with little dashes every few digits, and an address. I wondered what those were for.

Observing the boy himself, he was about a third the size of a chair, with a fluffy black, grey, and white merle coat and ears that stood upwards alertly. He had a long, equally fuzzy tail that humans didn’t seem to have, and it flew back and forth. His eyes were a stunning blue, like the outside.

Some time passed, until the big circular wheel on the wall had its short hand pointed to three. Then, the gold door knob turned, and wind forcefully pushed towards me as the good boy ran to the man, his tail wagging back and forth. The man grinned. If he had a tail, would it be wagging, too? The man knelt, and his boy leaped onto him playfully. I was pushed against the man’s leg as the boy’s long fur was ruffled by the man’s large, calloused hands.

“Who’s a good boy?!” the man’s tone was a muffled mimic of this morning’s voice, suffocated by the boy’s long, thick coat. “Who missed me? Who missed me?!”

The good boy let out another horribly loud noise. Bark! Bark! The man laughed at the headache inducing sound. “Who wants a walk?!”

The good boy leaned against the man with his two front feet, breathing loudly and quickly, his tongue lolling out the right side of his mouth. The man exited the room, returning with a long, thick string made of metal ovals. It had a clip, and attached to me with ease, in the same place as the flat bone. The boy pulled the man out the door eagerly.

We walked down a road that was lined by trees, with dappled, golden sunlight peeking through any surface that was not completely covered by dense foliage. The world smelled of spring. Life was in the air and thin clouds above, plants were growing, and the sun was bright. The good boy paused, calming down from his initial excitement, raised his long nose to the sky, and sniffed three short sniffs before lowering his head.

For some long amount of time, the walk continued. I decided then and there, looking at the tree-lined street, the man, and the good boy, that I could be happy here, living this solitary, unspeaking, unmoving life. Then, snapping out of my daydream, I heard an unfamiliar voice emitted from above me.

“Hey man! Long time, no see!” A friendly female voice greeted the man. I saw her straight blonde hair sparsely spattered by sunbeams.

The man laughed, but this laugh wasn’t like the ones he shared with his boy. This was a strained, uncomfortable imitation, and the man flatly responded, “Yeah, guess so.”

“How are you doing, y’know, after…” The woman’s voice trailed off, and I saw a certain anxiety fill her, her blue eyes saying something to the effect of I fucked up.

“After Maxine died?” The man responded, his voice rough and angry, like a growl that the good boy would make.

“I’m so sorry, Henry.” The woman looked up at him, red-faced, but the man, dubbed Henry, left without another word, his boy pulling him along again.

The walk continued with the man, Henry, slightly quieter than before. After some more time, the sun had moved lower, sinking into the horizon, and painting the sky many shades of pink, orange, and deep purple. We went back into the clean living room as Henry turned the knob, letting his boy and I in.

Henry and his boy ate. The good boy was given some dry pellets of something, and some rice, and chicken, too. Henry had something similar, minus the pellets. The boy trotted to a window shielded by a grey sheet. Before I knew it, the moon rose into the clouds, the white glow gently illuminating the tree’s leaves. The stars spattered in the darkened sky provided little more light, yet the pavement reflected the little brightness available. The good boy moved to a circular pad on the floor that was almost as fluffy as him. He curled up, and huffed as I felt the comforting weight of the fluffy boy on me. My gaze fell upon Henry as he approached us sleepily.

“Goodnight, sir,” Henry’s tired voice was pushed against his boy’s soft fur, causing the many vibrations to course through him calmingly. Henry yawned, pet his boy’s head with his fingertips, and went to another room, the door quietly sounding from a short distance.

The next day was much the same, then the day after, then the day after that. Months passed, and the outside changed from hot and bright, to cool and colorful, leaves on the trees scattered across the ground, to cold, with solid, floating chunks of rain drifting peacefully until disappearing into the earth, which was also dyed a stunning white. This day in particular was a bitingly frigid day, the overly crisp air grazing “Max’s” fur. The light and white raindrops were falling calmly, draping the tree-lined street in a freezing white blanket.

The “clock” had its little hand pointed at three. On cue, Henry emerged from the white door, allowing an entrance for the sharp air and snowdrops. Max, as always, was just as excited to see Henry. I found it peculiar yet refreshing, this good boy’s excitement and unconditional love. He let out a bark! Luckily, this was something I had gotten used to. Again, Max ran to Henry, and the “leash” was attached to me. I braced myself for the unyielding frosty weather, thankful for the warmth Max’s long coat provided. As always, Max scampered into the blue outside world, although I saw that it was more dark and grey than it usually was.

Henry wore more fluffy things during this time of year. Is this his way of being like Max? I couldn’t help but wonder. Henry seemed less happy than other humans. My mind led me to the sunny day on this same street. Maxine… Was Maxine his best friend? Did he love Maxine like he loves Max? I felt bad for Henry, but was glad that I could be his friend, and that Max could be his new friend.

With a gust of wind, I snapped out of my thoughts. The snow started to fall faster and faster, until the flakes couldn’t seem to keep up. Me and Max and Henry were almost encased in the sudden, thick downpour.

“Shit!” Henry cursed, “Blizzard.” So this was a blizzard. Henry tightened his grip on the leash as Max yelped in surprise.

“Maxie! Up, Maxie!” Henry shouted, fear and panic echoing in the dense air. Lurching upwards, Max missed his mark, falling gracelessly and landing on the almost solidified snow with a loud crunch. Shocked, he started to run in the opposite direction, away from Henry, away from home, and away from the tree-lined street. Fear filled me as I heard Henry’s shouts of anguish becoming more and more distant.

Max ran for a long time, until the ‘blizzard’ subsided. I looked around again, now able to see, and Max did much the same. Trees and bushes closed in around us, but they were not nice and orderly like the ones at home. These tangled in each other, fighting for the tiniest bit of sunlight. These trees were malnourished, scraggly, and seemed to be caving in on us. I wished Henry was here. Henry always knew what to do.

The sky was inky black, the moon had disappeared from the sky, and there were no stars to light our path. This place was unfamiliar and cold. Max started to shiver and bark madly in a never-ending fear. He continued for a long time before finally laying down and sleeping on the cold, wet ground, without his food, without his bed, and without his best friend.

Max rose with the sun, stretched, then glanced at the forest around us. The snow had stopped falling from the sky, but the trees still loomed over us ominously. Max sniffed the air, then set off in a random direction. Only a short while later, we escaped the forest, from the tangled vines and trees that stared at us wherever we went. However, Henry was nowhere in sight, to my dismay.

Max whimpered, and I heard a growl. It couldn’t have been from him, but it was so close. The rumbling continued as Max cried out quietly. There were no pellets out here, no rice, and no chicken. Was Max hurt? Nonetheless, he continued his walk, and as the sky changed from grey to a dusty blue, I saw a huge expanse of flat land, with tall square houses scattered around everywhere.

Max ran to it, sniffing the air excitedly as he got closer. What did he smell that motivated him this much? I heard paws colliding with the pavement, and I knew we had arrived somewhere far from home. There, the good boy spotted two human men, both about as tall as Henry, although one was a bit shorter.

“Aw, look at the puppy!” The shorter man squeaked, a grin forming on his face as he turned to the other man.

“Hey, it’s got a tag.” The man who towered above Max and I voiced his concerns before reaching a hand out to grab me. Max growled at this gesture. A tag? Was that the flat bone with the numbers? I felt razor-sharp wind fly towards me. Max had begun running, ears flat against his head. Looking back, the taller man was also running in pursuit of the dog, the shorter following behind him.

They all ran, faster and faster. Then, by some miracle, Max started panting, slowing down, then laying down on the hard pavement, whining defeatedly. The tall man jogged over, his short, wavy haired friend close behind him. He scooped Max up into his arms, and relief washed over me. The shorter man took the dog tag, his brown eyes scanning the address and the numbers.

“The poor thing!” He exclaimed, looking up at the human who held Max, “His name is Max! He’s lost, James!”

‘James’ cast his eyes toward the now setting sun and sighed. “Well, dear, I guess he’s staying the night.” His voice sounded exasperated and annoyed.

“Then we can bring him home,” ‘Dear’ muttered, then gasped, a realization hitting him, “He must be hungry! How long do you think he’s been lost?!”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” James reassured both his good friend and myself. He started to walk home.

Eventually, the good boy and I were gently placed on the beige carpeted floor of a small, cozy house. Warmth filled my every sense, along with a vague sense of relief. We were safe.

Max sniffed the refreshingly heated air hungrily, and Dear gave him some peanut butter and a yellow banana, which was scarfed down quickly, along with some water, which disappeared just as fast. Max layed down on the warm, fuzzy floor, and dozed off almost immediately after with the setting sun.

The sun rose eventually, but I could rest forever. However, I snapped back to reality because of footsteps, and a hand that ran down my side briskly. It grasped the metal and plastic ‘tag,’ causing me to wonder what those numbers were yet again, and again, I missed Henry. I wondered how he felt, losing a good friend again. No, I would be back to my home soon! I heard the footsteps shuffle away, followed by distant talking in another room.

“Hello?” Then he paused. “Yes, I did.” Another pause, “I’ll be there immediately. Bye.” What was happening? Who was he speaking to?

Max sniffed the air, then scurried up to Dear, letting out a quiet bark. He looked down at us, smiling warmly, and saying, “How are you?!” in that same voice Henry used when talking to Max and I. He continued with, “You’re going home today!” Max stared at him unknowingly, but I felt joyful relief, understanding what this meant.

I was picked up, rising higher and higher due to James, and my boy and I were carried into the frosted-over blue and grey world. The cold against my fabric did not last, though, and we were led into a large, black device with 4 big wheels, and seats on the inside, along with a smaller wheel in the front left seat. These things sometimes traveled our own tree-lined street.

The machine ran faster than Max could ever run, yet we were kept safe because of the black outer shell. At one point, Max stuck his head out the window, enjoying the blustery, angry breeze. It stung as it pounded against me. Perhaps we were back on our own street in minutes. Max started to bark with excitement at the familiar sight, to which Dear said “Aw…!”

The vehicle stopped, resting near our home. Max’s barks only got louder as the door slowly creaked open, revealing the street in its full glory. The door with the golden knob swung open, and Henry came stumbling out, tears lining his face, his hazel eyes made red by grief. He ran to his boy desperately.

“Thank you!” He spoke with desperation, joy, sadness, and appreciation, all in one, before even introducing himself, “Thank you, thank you!” He repeated. Max squirmed out of the vehicle, and I was fearful for only a moment, then I was flung into Henry’s arms as Max bounded towards him.

“It’s nothing, really!” Dear laughed, James nodding in silent agreement.

“Come in for tea!” Henry insisted on showing his gratefulness. I knew he loved his boy, and his boy loved him.

I looked at it all again, appreciating what was almost lost; the tree-lined street covered in a blanket of pearly snow, the fresh air that was becoming ever warmer, our clean house with the golden knob and white door, and most of all, Henry. I could tell he missed Maxine. I could tell he missed Max, but at the end of the day, we were all where we belonged. Not in the dark forests, not in the unwelcoming city, not even in the warm, beige house. No, we were together. We were home.