Sometimes our strongest bonds are forged in the unlikeliest of places.
Big changes are coming to an old train station hotel that George Baxter converted into apartments fifty years ago. The catalyst is a stray dog, searching for a place called heaven and a reunion with the mama who tragically left him orphaned and alone.
It isnāt easy finding your way in an unfamiliar world of humans. They hide their hearts, they donāt say what they mean, and they donāt sniff butts. Unconditional love apparently has certain conditions for all but the very young.
Grumpy old George reluctantly rescues the irresistible canine, and much to the dogās dismay, names him Gracie. Dogs need a purpose in life. So, with an open heart and a touch of canine intuition, Gracie weaves a web of connections among the diverse cast of characters residing within the building.
Embark on an unforgettable journey and discover the transformative power of friendship and love, and the extraordinary ways in which a stray dog can become the heart and soul of a community.
Sometimes our strongest bonds are forged in the unlikeliest of places.
Big changes are coming to an old train station hotel that George Baxter converted into apartments fifty years ago. The catalyst is a stray dog, searching for a place called heaven and a reunion with the mama who tragically left him orphaned and alone.
It isnāt easy finding your way in an unfamiliar world of humans. They hide their hearts, they donāt say what they mean, and they donāt sniff butts. Unconditional love apparently has certain conditions for all but the very young.
Grumpy old George reluctantly rescues the irresistible canine, and much to the dogās dismay, names him Gracie. Dogs need a purpose in life. So, with an open heart and a touch of canine intuition, Gracie weaves a web of connections among the diverse cast of characters residing within the building.
Embark on an unforgettable journey and discover the transformative power of friendship and love, and the extraordinary ways in which a stray dog can become the heart and soul of a community.
The little pup sniffed every corner of the cardboard box he called home, but his siblingsā scents had faded. Memories of climbing over and under the other five pups, relentlessly vying for Mamaās attention, were fading as well. Their carefree days had been filled with eating, sleeping, playing, and eating some more. But giant humans with reaching hands had put an end to all that. They showed their teeth and spoke in unusually high voices as they carried the little fur balls away one by one.
Mama looked down at her last pup with sad eyes. He met her gaze and wondered if she missed the others or just felt sorry for him. Why had no one picked him? Although heād been left behind, he tried to look on the positive side. He held his nose up and sniffed the familiar Mama scent. He couldnāt imagine a world without the warmth of her body and the calming rhythm of her breathing that gently rocked him to sleep at night. She was all he had left of his pack. They would be together forever.
But the humans kept coming. They talked in lower voices and showed less teeth. He changed his mind and hunkered down to make himself look smaller, hoping to discourage them from plucking him from the security of his home. Mama smelled different after they left. A dogās nose is never wrong, and his smelled fear. Mamaās eyes told him they couldnāt stay there, or they might be separated. Neither wanted that to happen.
Mama hadnāt had enough time with her other pups to teach them everything they needed to know to survive in a world full of humans. Now they were gone and had to fend for themselves. She said she wouldnāt let that happen again.
Pup had much to learn about the world. Mama began by telling him that all pups were born innocent and full of unconditional love, which stays with them for life. Humans were born that way too, but it rarely lasted beyond their childhood. Dogs often learned this lesson the hard way.
Pup looked at Mama, his little face scrunched up into something that resembled a frown. Does that mean I should avoid humans?
Avoiding humans is nearly impossible, but be wary of them until they prove themselves worthy.
Her answer puzzled him. Apparently, unconditional love had certain conditions.
Heād had little exposure to humans yet, except for brief encounters with the woman who showed up from time to time to feed them or let them out to play in the yard. She seemed nice enough. Perhaps he should be more wary of her for now.
Mamaās lessons became longer and more intense over the next few days. Pupās little brain spun with all the new information.
Can we slow down? Iām getting dizzy. He did a little pirouette and then tumbled to the ground. He looked up at Mama and wagged.
She did not reciprocate. You must keep up. We donāt have much time.
We donāt have much time? What did that mean? He knew what it sounded like. It sounded like their time together was growing short. He smelled fear again, Mamaās and his own.
You have much to learn, was her only reply when he questioned her.
Pup picked up a scent and held up his nose. He recognized this one. It belonged to the woman who kept them locked up in the room that sheād added onto the back of the house for her pets. Mama said sheād shared the room with other dogs and even a goat before her pups arrived. Theyād had the place to themselves since then.
The door latch clicked, and Pupās tail swung from side to side. He had no control over its movements. The first time it happened, it frightened him, but Mama assured him it was perfectly natural. It meant happiness or excitement, or both. Sometimes, when Pup questioned his feelings, he stole a glance at his tail for validation.
The door swung open, and the woman who fed them stood in the opening on her hind legs. Other than the talking heads that had peered into his cardboard box and snatched his siblings, the woman and her male friend were his only exposure to the creatures Mama called humans. Curiously, both balanced on two legs as they moved from place to place. It seemed like an inefficient method of travel.
āCome on, Lola, time for some exercise.ā
Pup followed Mama outside into the fresh spring air. He swept his nose in a wide arc, and it exploded with so many intoxicating scents he staggered and nearly fell. He couldnāt wait to investigate every one.
A fence surrounded the large yard, allowing him to roam without supervision. Mama could go off on her own adventures, knowing that her pup was safe.
First order of business: rolling in the grass. After sitting in a box all morning, the fresh, earthy smell was heavenly. He didnāt actually know anything about heaven, except that Mama had told him it was a wonderful place. He imagined they had plenty of grass there.
Next, he needed to mark his territory. He found a suitable tree, standing tall in the middle of the yard. He squatted and let out a stream. There. If any other animals came around, they would know that this yard belonged to him, and, of course, Mama. Heād watched her perform a similar ritual.
Pup followed his nose in every direction, sniffing out little treasures and making sure no other dogs encroached on his territory. From time to time, he smelled other animals and chased after them. They were small and fast, and he never caught any. The one with the bushy tail scampered up trees so quickly it made Pupās head spin.
Then, there were the birds. Most of them were cool, except for the big black ones that danced around the yard and made faces at him. They talked to each other in loud, arrogant voices. Pup didnāt know what they said, but the way they said it made him feel like he was the subject of their derision.
After a good sniff around, he looked for Mama, but didnāt see her in the yard. Hmmā¦ He ran back to their room and found it empty. Is this why sheād been acting strangely? The relentless lessons and the fear he smelled. Had she left him behind? She wouldnāt do that. Would she?
No. Sheās got to be here somewhere. Just because a pup, through no fault of his own, was smaller than the rest didnāt mean he was any less smart. He devised a search planāstart at one end of the fence and follow it to the other end. He would look inside and out. Even if she had left, she couldnāt have gotten far.
He held his nose high and scoured the air, filtering out any scents that were not Mamaās. The woods outside the fence made it difficult to see. Maybe he wasnāt so smart after all. He tried to be optimistic, but a whimper slipped out as he forged ahead. At the corner of the property, he spotted her behind a clump of bushes that hid her from the rest of the yard. His heart, which had sunk into his stomach, snapped back into place.
Maybe this was a game where she hides and waits for him to find her. That sounded like fun, but a little heads-up would have been nice.
Mama scratched at the ground near the bottom of the fence.
He barked, which sounded more like a little yip than a bark, to let her know he was playing along.
Mama didnāt stop.
My turn to hide.
She clawed harder, tossing clumps of dirt into the air behind her.
Perhaps this was a different game. He barked again, this time a little louder.
Shhh!
Pup inched closer, careful to stay away from the flying dirt.
What are you doing?
She stopped for a moment. I started this hole yesterday. If I dig a little every day during our yard time, soon weāll have a hole big enough to crawl through and be free.
But I like my yard. Wait. Whatās free?
Please let me work. We donāt have much time.
That was the second time sheād mentioned running out of time. Mama reeked of fear, so he let her continue. He didnāt know what free meant, but he had a feeling it wasnāt something that the woman would approve of. He crawled under the bush to keep an eye on the rest of the yard.
Mama panted hard as she threw more dirt into the air.
The woman stepped out of the house and scanned the yard. Pup stifled the urge to run out and play with her after remembering Mamaās warning.
āLola,ā the woman called.
Pup tilted his head. Whatās a lola? Heād heard that word before.
She put two fingers to her mouth, and a shrill sound filled the yard. āLola. Come on, girl. No time for games.ā
No games? Pup dug his paws into the dirt and pushed himself backward. Ouch! Heād gotten himself stuck. The more he tried to wriggle out of it, the more it hurt. He stopped and looked into the yard.
Sheās coming.
Get out of there. Now! Mama yelled.
He took a deep breath and shook as hard as he could, like Mama had taught him to do when he got wet. A branch snapped. Pain shot up his back, but he was free. He scampered out from under the bush.
The smell of fear and fresh dirt filled the air as Mama clawed at the edges of the hole. It didnāt look big enough for both of them to fit through.
Mama said, I need to know where the woman is.
I canāt see her.
Listen carefully. I want you to run out from behind the bush. Let her see you walking toward her. She will stop. That will buy us some time. Donāt get too close to her. When I bark, you run back here as fast as you can and jump into the hole.
That sounded like fun.
Pup did what Mama said, and the woman stopped. They stared at each other as he ambled toward her. Mama barked. He turned and ran. When he neared the fence, he leapt through the air and slipped through the hole like a Steph Curry three-pointer. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled out the other side.
Mama followed. She made it halfway through before she stopped.
Hurry, Mama. Donāt stop now.
She wriggled her hind-quarters frantically. Iām stuck.
The woman appeared from around the bush. Her eyes doubled in size when she saw Mama wriggling under the fence. āOh, no you donāt, Lola. Not again.ā
Mama!
The woman lunged forward and grabbed Mamaās tail with both hands.
Changing the Station by David Homick is the heartwarming story of a little stray dog that turns an unlikely group of strangers into a family and finds a forever home.
This lovely story is told from the dogās-eye view of the main character, Gracie. The author creates the perfect āvoiceā for the young dog seeking to reunite with his mother, who has gone to heaven and left him on his own, the last of his litter. Gracie is innocent and pure of heart, as is young Savannah Miller, the five-year-old in the apartment on the 3rd floor who can communicate with him. His fear of humans, especially cops, is palpable, as is his hunger and confusion about how to proceed with his search. This little guy is so endearing and relatable.
Gracie, who initially believes his name to be āBad Dog,ā is taken in by the owner of an apartment building, an older man grieving over the loss of his wife and his estrangement from their only daughter. Mistakenly believing he is a she, George names the dog after Gracie Allen, the television star of a show he and his wife had particularly enjoyed watching together. The author steadily builds a relationship between the grumpy old man and the skittish Gracie, uneasy at first and with both fighting their feelings about trusting in another creature along the way. But Gracieās mother had schooled him on finding his purpose in life, and he realizes that it might be right there with George and the rest of the residents of The Station.
There is a well-developed set of secondary characters; tenants in the apartment building with diverse personalities and life situations. Before Gracieās arrival, they exist side-by-side without engaging each other, simply anonymous strangers passing in the hallways. However, they all pull together when the need arises and act like a community.
While the story felt a little slow at the start, a tragedy in the pupās life changed everything. The story has some emotional subplots that further Georgeās healing process with some real tear-jerker moments. I couldnāt put this book down. The story addresses some serious topics, including mental illness, alcohol abuse, and the death of loved ones, so I recommend CHANGING THE STATION for young adult and adult readers.Ā