I was born with eight brothers and sisters. One of my sisters didn’t make it. I was the runt, but you can’t tell it now, can you? My mother was fawn colored, with little patience for us and our needle teeth. She tolerated us until she didn’t have to anymore. Her relief was visible.

I only knew my father from a distance. He was massive, and kept behind chain link on concrete. His ears were docked, and he was the color of a ten-year old nickel that had been carried in many pockets. I thought he was magnificent.

One day, the man who feeds us brought another man and I was picked straightaway. I was happy to be held, and my ears rubbed. Nobody had ever given me singular attention before. He put me in a box on the seat of his pickup, and I promptly jumped out. He let me ride on his lap to my new home.

It was so exciting to be somewhere new! All the smells! All the sounds!! All the people!! I was loved for a time, and then the family all left. I was put in a black cage. It was lonesome. I missed my brothers and sisters who were always climbing all over me. There were two other dogs there, but neither were extra friendly. One was downright hateful, and I think the one who was grey like the fog was not hitting on all four cylinders, if you catch my drift. But then the humans came back! They didn’t have any of my siblings, as I had hoped, but they had a collar for me! They let me out! I was so happy I dribbled a little bit. I was scolded, which made me pee a little more. I couldn’t help it. I put my tail between my legs and crept back to my kennel and tried to be as small and quiet as possible. I had felt so grown up for just a minute. Why did I have to go and screw it up?

It was awhile before anyone came to me. It was only to stroke my head for a minute and give me some fresh water and a bit of kibble. I tried to convey that I was sorry, but he was so busy with the two big dogs I don’t think he thought much of me.

After a few days of having the full run of the living room and this great big cushy couch, I was put outside for a time. Before, I had been pulled along by a bit of string attached to a necklace I wore that was almost uncomfortably tight. I still wore the necklace, but now I had the string that I could run along between two trees. It wasn’t so bad. New things to smell, and lots of comings and goings to watch. I could run as fast as I could for a ways before I was abruptly stopped. Then I could turn around and run back. No, this wasn’t so bad. I ate a bumblebee, which I learned quickly was a colossal mistake. I had to take a pill. My mouth felt funny for awhile, but then I got to sleep on the cushy couch on the lap of the man who fed me.

The next day I was deemed responsible enough to be left outside for a time. The people all left. The big dogs remained in the house and taunted me through the window. I didn’t mind. Outside was okay, I much preferred it over the small cage inside. It was only big enough to get turned around in, and the floor was cold. Out here, I was free to dig in the dirt to my heart’s content.

I saw a butterfly but didn’t eat it. My mouth still felt funny. I watched some squirrels, who were way too cocky for their own good. They knew I couldn’t get them….today.

Eventually the people came back and I was let back in. I was so excited I had another accident. I was just so glad to see them! And there was a new person who wanted to rub my fur. It was all too much!! I couldn’t help it, and then I couldn’t stop. The man yelled at me and back outside I went. This time it was to a kennel further away from the house. I couldn’t run as far, but I was no longer tethered. The white dog next to me looked so sad when the man barely looked at him before turning away. I asked him his name, but I don’t think he could hear me through his sadness. On the other side were some wrinkly dogs who were just plain hateful. I kept my back to them while they made fun of my tail. Many days passed in this manner. It was a desolate time. When anyone bothered to talk to me, they called me Lightning. I understood this was my name, but if no one is calling you, there is no reason to answer. I had so much energy and love to give, but no one to give it to. I wanted to run on the couch again and sleep on the soft pillows, but my home had shavings that pricked my nose and no sweet smelling grass. The butterfly did not visit me here.

After many months, and much shouting, I was taken by the man who had once spoken so gently to me to a man much bigger than him that had a gruff voice. I had grown, too. I thought I was quite handsome, not too big, and not too small, with a tail that was just right. But I was still scared. Nothing was familiar. At last I got to stay inside again, and it wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t cold, but it sure did smell terrible. And I’m a dog. I wanted to be let outside to smell fresh air, but it was forbidden. I had to do my business on a pad in the corner, which was humiliating! Why couldn’t I cover it up? I tried to do everything to not bother the man, but he would sometimes just reach out and swat me for next to nothing. I might be running in the house, which he didn’t like. Or I might get too excited when he gave me bologna or potato chips and weewee someplace not on my pad. I tried SO HARD to be a good dog. But it was impossible. When he wasn’t asleep, he was just mad at the world.

One day, a lady came, and there was more shouting and harsh words. She kept pointing at me and saying I wasn’t supposed to be there. I moved to where the food was, but I wasn’t supposed to be there, either. I went to the door, and that was better, but I wasn’t supposed to be there, either. I peed because they were making me nervous with all the yelling and that’s when things really went downhill. I recognized “OUT” but they wouldn’t let me out. I got as low to the floor as I could, and when she came over to me with a mean expression, I may have growled. Which caused more screaming.

It was a long night. The next day, the man who had brought me to this place showed up. I thought, “good, the kennel is better than this place” but he didn’t take me back to the kennel.

Instead he took me to another man’s house. Where the last man had been mean, this guy was crazy. I was inside sometimes, but I preferred outside. The dog there was as crazy as his master. It always smelled like chemicals and rot and everything was lumpy. They loved on me one minute and beat me the next. I tried to stay out of the way, but it was small and I couldn’t. One day, for no apparent reason, I was banished outside. I wore a thick, heavy necklace with a thick, heavy chain that I had to drag with every step I took. And I could only take twelve steps in two directions. I was chained to a house on the side of a muddy bank. Sometimes I had water, I almost never had food. When I did, it was rancid or something I couldn’t eat, anyway. This was misery.

I was three years old.

One night, I thought I heard a familiar voice. It was so quick, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it may be the man who I had began to think of as my driver. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, every time I saw him my life got a little bit worse. I wasn’t sure what could possibly happen next to be worse, and I didn’t really want to find out. He came to me. He rubbed my ears. I looked at him longingly. He seemed to understand. He attached a leash to the collar and unclipped the heavy chain. Oh, happy day. I licked his hands. We walked away from my house on the hill.

A girl stood by a truck, looking at me warily. She said I had gotten bigger since she had seen me last. I felt tiny and insignificant. I was glad she could see me at all. No one else seemed to. I was loaded into the back of the truck into a cage that was bigger than where I had spent my youth. It smelled clean. I was glad. I was so dirty.

All of a sudden, the men started yelling. I think the driver man thought things had been different for me. We started moving. I just wanted out of there. The girl looked scared, I could smell her fear now, and it wasn’t about me. Something hit the truck and we gained speed. Soon, the wind whipped all around me and I just laid down and closed my eyes, resigned to whatever fate would befall me.

It was late when we got to the next place. I sensed that it was open, but I couldn’t see much. The man got me out of my cage and put me on the ground. Grass! I promptly peed.

“Good boy,” he said. Those were the first kind words I had heard in ages.

I didn’t see the lady anymore, but in my new place I could hear her. I could feel her tension. I was in a cellar of sorts, but it was warm, and dry, and didn’t smell bad. There were lots of things to look at, and a see-through door. And one of the dogs was there from before! The stupid one, but that’s better than the violent one. I had been so very lonely. The man rubbed my ears again before shutting my door and a whimper escaped. I froze, I didn’t want him to think it was a growl. I saw his eyes soften at me, and I saw regret. I laid my head on my paws and closed my eyes. I felt safe for the first time in a long time. I slept.

The next day, there was much activity. I was brought outside and once again put on the zipline. I’m not ashamed to say, I faintly frolicked. I hadn’t stretched my legs in forever! I got a vigorous soapy bath from the hose and I felt like a new canine. I got some good food and crunched happily. The water the man brought me tasted better than before. I was determined to be the best dog ever. I never wanted to leave. This was paradise. I even had a leaf pile to wallow in to my heart’s desire.

There was an old dog there, who had lots of fur. He raised his eyebrows when he got a load of me and all my energy, but he left me to my own devices. It seemed that he was free to roam at will. What a life!! I stayed out under the stars that night, but I didn’t mind. I heard lots of sounds, but it wasn’t worrisome. I slept well.

The next day, the driver left (I wanted to think of him as Dad, but I didn’t want to get attached). The lady stayed home. She was standing on the porch looking at me. She was talking to somebody I couldn’t see.

“No, just three days….oh, somebody is gonna get him, I forget who. It doesn’t matter….Well, I’m a little scared of him….no, but who knows what he’s been through? I’m not getting around him.”

I wagged my tail to show how friendly I was.

“He’s wagging his tail. He probably wants me to come down there so he can eat my face off….Oh, you know, pits…”

I wanted to lick her face off for the mashed potatoes and gravy I’d eaten the night before, that was all. She scratched the old dog’s head, who closed his eyes in contentment. I was so jealous, I could’t hardly stand it. I sighed and laid back down in my leaf pile. No ear rubs from the lady, then. I would do the best I could. Three days….three days was all I had in this haven. I slept on my leaves as the dappled sunshine passed over my brindle markings. “Please let me stay, please let me stay forever,” I prayed to the Doggie Divine.

Three days passed. Then four. Then more, I quit counting. The big stupid dog hung around some. She wasn’t as stupid as she let on, come to find out. But she WAS lazy. I was occasionally permitted off the zipline to run around the yard. It. Was. AWESOME. There was a fence (not too tall, I could jump it, no problem. IF I wanted to. But why would I want to? I had everything right here.) There seemed to be some discussion about me, when was I leaving, things like that. My manhood was also the subject once or twice. I didn’t WANT to leave, and the other…well, the big dumb dog was kinda pretty…

The lady would tolerate me. She patted me delicately on the head. I knew she didn’t trust me. I posed for a picture one afternoon. “He was only supposed to be here THREE DAYS. It’s been three weeks already!”

Dad’s argument: “Well, you see what he came from. I don’t want that to happen again.” I could see her resolve weaken. The girl had a soft heart. I saw it in the way she rubbed her old dog and he tottered behind her on arthritic legs, everywhere she went. A girl and her dog. I longed to be her dog.

“There will be somebody,” she said, and tapped into the thing in her hand.

I sat down and tried to look sad. It wasn’t hard, if I thought about leaving this Utopia, the best place I’d ever been. The big grey dog winked at me. She thought I was cute. I wagged my tail and slobbered.

One day, we were all loose in the yard and the temptation was too great. We made a way. Then we got caught. Mom was home and I thought she was going to kill us both. Her old dog slept through it all. I felt terrible. She chained me back to the zipline and Sugar (cause she’s so SWEET) was put back downstairs. Punishment. I was ashamed. I had jeopardized the best life I’d ever had. Just for a little tail. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it at all. I howled in misery. My life was over.

Dad got home and gave me one of the man-to-man looks. He kept assuring Mom it wasn’t possible, but I knew it was. And 65 days later, I became a father, welcoming eleven squirming offspring into the world! They were no bigger than my paw, and all colors. Mom had two favorites, that she named Slug and Sloth because they were big ol’ rolly polly things. But I’ll tell you a secret. They were all my favorite. I couldn’t have been prouder. Even Papaw Crockett seemed amused by their antics.

So when the man came to the gate who carried the stick and had the binoculars, I may have gotten a little excited. My sons and daughters needed protection! I barked to raise the dead. I definitely raised mom, who looked like she had been asleep. She started with “hush” but I had to keep barking. Raise the alert, you see! Doggie snatcher! She gained intensity with “No!” and “Come HERE” but by then, I was frantic and my brain couldn’t turn off and “bark-bark-bark-bark-bark!!!!” I was FEROCIOUS. I was KING of the CASTLE. I was-owwww!!! I was being drug across the yard by the hair of my neck by mom, who was a LOT stronger than I had given her credit for. I heard Dad tell her I would “eat her up” and she needed to turn loose of me, but she was listening to him about as much as I been listening to her a minute ago.

She had my attention now, though, I’ll tell you that much.

The man at the gate had his mouth open and it wouldn’t shut. Mom snapped the line on my collar and stomped into the house. Dad shrugged and followed her.

I never disobeyed her again.

When I would occasionally get reprimanded for some petty crime, Dad was usually the one dishing it out. I would duck behind Mom and they would laugh but try to hide it from me. I was her protector, and she was mine.

It was during this time that I noticed I rarely spent time on the line anymore. I had a choice of staying outside, or I could hang out in my house downstairs. My choice. At night, I slept in my house on a squashy pillow. Old man Crockett guarded us through the twilight. I was dayshift. There had been nothing said in ages about me leaving. I had almost forgotten. The next morning Dad woke us early, but not before the sun came up, as was his custom. We were encouraged to go potty, but this time I was loaded into my house in the back of the truck again. I was so scared. I had been so happy. I had seen all my children placed in happy homes. I had dined on some right fine cuisine. And now it was all over. I whined and lay down.

Mom is a wonderful cook, and a fine ear rubber, but driver she is not. I thought we were gonna die before we ever got to my new home. When we got there, everybody knew me. Nobody wanted to pet me, but they all wanted to see me. I was put in a big cold room with lots of boxes and a strong odor. Mom put a sign on the door and told me to behave. In a few minutes the door opened, and there was Dad. What’s that in your hand? He put it around my mouth. I felt like I was suffocating. What fresh hell was this? I got low and stayed there as he led me through a big place with more people. What was going on? Next thing I know, I’ve been dumped off on some people in a tiny place with more dogs and cats than I could shake a stick at. And I LOVE to shake sticks. It’s like, my third favorite thing ever. I despise cats, have I told you? Dad held me, there was a sting, and all of a sudden I was sooooooo sleepy. But that didn’t make sense. I could just stay awake long enough to—

When I woke up, my legs hurt something fierce. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was my tail. Nooooooooooo…I can’t tell you what it was but I had a very bad feeling that I wasn’t half the dog I used to be. It wasn’t long before Dad showed up and picked me up.

The world tilted, but he smelled familiar, so I wagged my tail-just a little, it hurt so much- and allowed myself to be placed on a pile of blankets.

He took me home.

I recovered in the basement, on a steady diet of love and hugs and treats. I really contemplated not getting better just to see how long they would keep it up. Plus, as an added bonus, Sugar was jealous. She was always Dad’s favorite. It wasn’t long before I started packing on the pounds. I’m still pretty handsome, there’s just more of me now. It was around this time that I discovered something better than the water hose. I know, what could POSSIBLY be better than a waterhose? I’ll tell you: a whole entire river of cold water!!! I pranced and barked and dug and chased and swam and barked some more. What a glorious day!!! The only problem was I didn’t get to enough. It was like a special occasion. But one night, I slipped off. Sugar came with me. I might’ve gotten away with it, but I didn’t want to go back home and I was barking and having a good ol’ time and next thing I know, there’s Dad. Evidently I had interrupted some football watching. He was not pleased. My secret escape place in the fence was mended the very next day. No more escapades. But I had lots of good times inside the fence. Lots of action. One day I helped clean up a tree that fell! That was great fun. Lots of sticks to choose from. One day, Dad dug a hole. I got too close because I’m nosy. Mom likes playing tug of war. Sometimes I let her pretend she can win.

One day, I started coughing. It started slowing me down. I’m pretty high energy, but I’d have to stop what I was doing to cough. It got really bad. Dad took me to the doctor. I had worms. Not the kind you poop, the kind that makes holes in your heart. In my heart. I was really sick then. I had to stay at the vet a few times. Never overnight, nobody thought that was a good idea. They put me on doggie Prozac, but it didn’t do much good. I’ve learned that most other dogs get on my nerves. And people aren’t to be trusted. So, in turn, I’ve been labeled a grouch.

With my sickness came weakness. Mom fixed me my favorite dishes: gravy, spaghetti, chicken. Peanut butter cookies. One night, dad was camping and I felt especially bad. Mom came down to sit with me. I started coughing and couldn’t stop and there was blood everywhere. Mom just knew I was dying. She called everybody then just sat and held me for a long, long time. It felt warm and safe. So I slept.

I woke up to the relieved expression on Mom’s face. I guess I would live another day. And I was glad. I was really having a good time. I even got well. They ran a whole bunch of tests at the doctor’s but all those little parasites died in the first round of treatment and I was released to a more sedate lifestyle. Fine by me. I could still do things, but not as long or at the same pace. I am told repeatedly to slow down. I still have to take a heart pill every day, but it’s ok. Mom takes hers, then she gives me mine. With peanut butter.

A few months ago, my roommate and best friend, Sugar, passed away. It was a depressing time. I never realized how much I depended on her. She was a good listener. And she appreciated food more than anybody I ever met. I miss her every day. It was right after that that I started coming upstairs more. And then I was sleeping up here. I have to take inside baths now, which are mildly terrifying, but it’s worth it. I got a new bed this week. And I currently have four tennis balls in my possession. I had biscuits and gravy for dinner. I’m getting a little grey, and my leg is a little gimpy from where I get too excited and fall off the porch sometimes (hello?? Aren’t they supposed to have a railing, anyway???) But I’m still a good dog with a lot of good years left. So don’t judge a pit bull by his demeanor. He likely can’t help it. He’ll return love when he knows it’s here to stay. Mom trusts me so much now, when we Facetimed Lisa the other night she tried to get me to take a peanut butter cookie out of her mouth to show off. I got camera shy and chewed on a tennis ball instead. She gave me the cookie anyway. My mom loves me, and I love her, and this is where my story ends.
~Lightning Bug Doodleloo Johnson, written by my mom.