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“They’ll think we’re all pussies, because of you.”
I couldn’t have cared less. Still don’t. We brought him here and he spent the rest of his life with us. He loved everyone here, that much was obvious. But we had a different kind of a bond. A deeper one. What I felt for him wasn’t just love. It was so much more and I think he felt the same way. He would have died for me, for any of us really. That’s what a good dog he was.
When I reach Dex’s shack, I see everyone is already there, outside. They’ve made a circle and I guess that Thor’s poor body is in the middle. I swallow heavily, as they see me coming and Norick and Finn move aside to let me pass. Dex is now standing opposite me, Thor’s body between us. He is lying on his side, eyes closed. There doesn’t appear to be any injury on him, not one that I can see anyway.
“What happened?” I ask, trying not to look at the body of my dear friend.
“We just found him like this,” Norick tells me, as I turn to him.
His pale face with an occasional orange hair where a whole bush load of them should be, looks even paler now. The dark circles around his eyes reveal that he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. I can complain of the same, really.
“Well,” I start kneeling down, “maybe it was just his time. He was how old?”
I press my hand on his belly, I check his paws. Then, someone’s answer takes me by surprise.
“We found him exactly 13 years ago,” Dex is the one who replies and I give him a puzzled look. “He was just a puppy, a few months old, no more than a year, tops. So, that makes him about 14 years old.”
It takes me a few moments to compose myself, as Dex is the last person I expected to have the exact reply to my question. No one else speaks. The air is tense for some reason. I feel that if I had a knife, I’d be able to cut through it.
“That makes him pretty old,” I reply, feeling my throat get a little dry. Why does this feel like a competition as to who loved the dog the best? “What makes you think someone harmed him?”
“Check his neck,” Dex squeezes his answer through clenched teeth.
I do as he tells me. Pressing my fingers into the soft indentation on his neck, then feeling the bones, I realize something horrific. My fingers are shaking, but I check again, just to make sure. There’s no doubt about it.
“His neck is broken,” I say it out loud, but my words don’t surprise anyone. It seems everyone already knew this.
I get up and clean the dirt off my knees, not because I was all that dirty, but more because that provides me with a few precious moments which I could use for composure. I see Dex raking his fingers through his hair, disheveling it a little. He looks like he hasn’t groomed himself properly in a while. Long beard and hair are one thing, but even then, it requires care. His hair looks greasy, shiny.
“You know what that means, right?” he tells me.
I’m not really sure. He has some idea what happened. That much is obvious. But he expects me to be in his head and know what that is. I simply give one nod. That could mean anything. He looks appeased by it.
“It has to be the work of Leo’s guys,” Dex finally reveals what he’s been thinking.
“You think they’re here?” Zarael gets involved.
“Nah, not anymore,” Dex shakes his head. “They did what they came to do. This is just a warning. Worst is yet to come.”
“What are we going to do?” I ask, trying to focus on him, so I won’t have to look at Thor.
I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him one last time that he’s a good boy, that he’s the best boy a group like us could ever have and that I hope he had a good life with us. But, I don’t. I can only hope he already knew this and died without too much pain. That’s all I want for him, to have died painlessly, in an instant, which allowed him to cross over from this horrible place and into doggie Heaven where he can play ball and get treats all day long, for eternity. That thought almost makes me cry, but hearing Dex’s hoarse voice bring me back to reality.
“Nothing for now,” Dex explains. He is talking more slowly now; he doesn't look angry. “We stay on track. We ride two days from now, we need to get the girl out of here. We can’t have her in the middle of this. Then, when we come back, we’ll deal with Leo and his boys.”
There is some commotion, mumbles here and there and a few nods. We all agree. Usually, everyone agrees with Dex. He isn’t known for his democratic views, but he does take our thoughts and wishes into account. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t. As for this particular situation, he’s right. It’s not a good idea to do anything now, while Isabel is still with us. Once we take her home, Leo can focus on exacting his revenge on us and no one else. I take one more glance at Thor and I feel like a steel hand is clenched tightly around my heart, squeezing out all of the joy. I see the same pained look on the faces of all my brothers. I’m happy that Thor was loved so much. The least we can do is offer him a decent burial and put all his favorite things in there with him.
“I want to bury him under my window,” I suddenly say.
I have no idea what Dex’s reply to this will be. Honestly, I don’t even care. I’m the one who saved him and I want him to rest under my window. In a way, it'll be like he is still watching over me. To my surprise, Dex agrees.
“Weston will dig the hole,” Dex instructs. “You get his blanket and anything you want to put with him. Zarael, there is a wooden box in the kitchen to the right, you’ll see it. It should be big enough for him to fit.”
Slowly, Weston and Zarael go on their business and I head over to Thor’s little house, to the entrance. It’s old and worn out, with the coating of brown paint peeling on all sides. The roof is still fine, but it could do with some brushing up. We got him a new house last year and took this one away, putting it in storage and planned on getting rid of it. Thor sniffed the new place once and refused to go in. Dex rolled his eyes, saying to just leave him, that he’d eventually stop pouting and go in. Thor slept out for three nights. One night there was a storm. He still didn’t go in. So, on the fourth day, I brought his old house back. He got in, turned in a circle a few times, then nestled down and fell asleep immediately. I smiled at the sight. Even an animal knows what it means to call a place truly your home.
I get his blanket from there and his two squeaky toys. I bring it back to where Weston is still digging a hole, his strong back bending underneath the pressure of the earth he’s digging and the shovel in his hands. Isabel’s face suddenly peeps from the window. Sickly pale and almost scared, her eyes are wider than usual. She takes a look at us, but doesn’t say anything. She knows what we’re doing. I pretend I haven’t noticed her. A few moments later, she is gone.
The burial is a solemn moment. A brief, passing moment. We bury Thor lovingly, quietly, each of us saying goodbye in silence, in our own way.
