Though he feels a tinge of hunger, he ate well last night and thoughts of perhaps finding a treat or a snack are enough to motivate tonight’s journey. And the city smells pleasant tonight. Just like last time.
Emerging from the alleys the shaggy dog spies the young boy across the street. His upside-down empty hat replaced with a guitar case full of coins and paper, his quivering hands now creating a wonderful sound from the instrument he plays. His voice once a mutter now booms out into the world, and it makes the shaggy dog happy to see how much he’s grown. He wags his tail and plods on.
Leaning against the wall of spray-painted brick is the man with the kind eyes. He stares intently at his phone, fingers working furiously against the screen as the shaggy dog greets him. The man stops and returns the greeting, though his hair is now silver and his face houses a few wrinkles, his age is contrasted in the youthfulness of his smile.
“You’re looking a little plump these days,” the man laughs as he kneels down and pats his head. “I’m glad you’re doing well, take care out there okay?”
The shaggy dog smiles and licks the man’s hands, who pulls them back and wipes them on his pants, laughing. The shaggy dog wags his tail and plods on.
He sniffs the air, searching for a particular scent. Finding it, he wags his tail and breaks out into a run, careful to avoid bumping into anyone, and savvy enough to stay away from the fast-moving things on the street. He stops outside the restaurant window and looks in. Though the food smells wonderful, its the smile of the woman he was searching for, and his tail wags as he sees it. Some time ago she would come and eat alone. Now she sits with another man across from her, and a baby in a high chair in between them. They laugh and share food, trying to keep the small baby from making too much of a mess. Their happiness is his favourite smell. He wags his tail and plods on.
He begins to return home, satisfied with the knowledge that his people are doing well tonight. He turns into his alley and prepares for an early night.
His head whips around, a vile smell assaulting his nose. The shaggy dog lets out a whine, he’s never smelled anything so foul before. Tense and ready, the shaggy dog follows the smell back out onto the street, scanning for its source. He finds it immediately.
It’s not the smell of medicine coming from the man, he’s smelled that before. It’s not even the smell of the sickness he carries or the treatments he has to take that have caused his body to lose its muscle and his hair to fall. Unfortunately, he’s smelled those before too.
It’s the horrible creature whose claws dig into the man’s shoulders, pressing its weight down onto him. It’s the horrible creature whose jaw rests upon the man’s head, whose body billows out like a hideous cloak making it impossible to see the street behind.
The shaggy dog cocks his head as the man approaches, his movements slow and gentle.
“Hey buddy,” the man says, holding out his hand. “Where’d you come from?”
Cautiously, the shaggy dog approaches and sniffs the man’s hand. Underneath the smell of the creature is the scent of a gentle man, one that reminds him of the man with the kind eyes. He smells a man who wants to be happy. Most of all he smells the scent of someone who needs his help.
“You don’t have a collar or anything,” the man says, kneeling down and giving him a scratch behind the ear. “Maybe you’ve got a chip?”
Let’s go, Mr. Shadow spits. It’s just a wretched stray, and besides, you don’t have the time to dote on something other than yourself.
The man pulls his hand back and mulls over the creature’s words for a moment. As he begins to stand the shaggy dog barks.
No!
Mr. Shadow recoils and glares at him. How dare you. He’s already mine, find another!
You’re wrong, the Shaggy Dog says, matching the creature stare for stare. You don’t get to have him, you don’t get to have anyone. Not ever. Not while I’m here.
Look at you all big and brave. Mr. Shadow snipes. Those are bold words for a mongrel, what makes you think you have the right to interfere with me?
Because it’s who I am, the Shaggy Dog fires back. It’s my job. I help people.
Mr. Shadow’s claws loosen their grip in the man’s shoulders. It’s a fleeting movement but the Shaggy Dog notices.
Don’t be so presumptuous, Mr. Shadow sneers. Do you really think you can help him? You can smell it can’t you? He’s already gone. There’s nothing you can do about what’s to come.
Maybe, maybe not, the Shaggy Dog responds, his eyes fierce with determination. But I’ve seen people in this city overcome this and more. And while I may not be able to save his body from disease, believe me when I say I can save his soul from you!
The man runs his hands through the Shaggy Dog’s fur, it’s a pleasant feeling. Mr. Shadow’s body shrinks just slightly at first but enough to reveal some of the street behind him.
Who the hell do you think you are? Mr. Shadow rumbles, his voice an inky blackness, but the Shaggy Dog can hear the fear.
I’m Purpose, The Shaggy Dog replies simply. I’m a guardian, a protector, a lifeline, a friend and a family. I’m everything you’re not. And that’s why you’re afraid.
The horrible smell is vanishing now as Mr. Shadow’s claws lift themselves from the man’s shoulders, his grip tenuous. His billowing body shrinks and fades, revealing the rest of the street behind him.
This doesn’t change anything, Mr. Shadow growls. And you certainly haven't won. I’ll fade for a time perhaps, but I’ll always be here, always waiting. I’ll be strong again. I promise.
I’ll always be here too, the Shaggy Dog says. And I’m always strong. I’ll beat you every time. That’s my promise.
“Would you like to come home with me?” the man asks, scratching his fur. “We can see if you have a chip tomorrow mourning and if not you can stay with me. We’ll get you a bath and there’s a soft bed you can sleep on, and lot’s of food.”
The shaggy dog smiles and wags his tail. The man stands and together they begin to walk, the shaggy dog looking up at him as the man moves with an ease he didn’t have before. Together they come to a small house with a beaten old door and an unlit porch light.
The man jingles his keys in the lock and holds the door open. “After you,” he says with a smile. The shaggy dog bounds inside, anxious to take in all the new smells and explore his new home.
The man closes the door behind them, and the light on the porch flickers on.
