I Thought You Loved Me

I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME

When Hector was a pup he thought that he had the perfect life—humans who loved him, a backyard to play in, hikes through the forest, kibble on the regular. What more could he ask for?

David and Angie had adopted him when he was eight weeks old. And they doted on him. They taught him right from wrong. They played with him, and gave him what seemed like an unending parade of toys and treats. He felt like he was their sunshine.

Until he wasn’t.

Angie announced that she was pregnant, and things went sideways from there. When she came home and told David, it did not go as she had hoped. David did not look as happy as Angie. In fact, he did not look happy at all. He became quiet, and withdrawn. Angie talked about all the things that they needed with a new baby coming. David got a beer. Angie talked about how much this baby would bring them together, make them a real family, which, if he was honest, confused Hector—he thought they already were a real family. David got another beer. Angie talked about baby names—Bella or Nora if it was a girl, Marcus or Evan if it was a boy. David got still another beer.

Angie stopped her chattering. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Aren’t you happy? We’re having a baby!” She looked at him, grabbing his hands in her own.

David was silent for a while.

“We never discussed this.”

Angie was gobsmacked. “I … I … I know, but we’re going to be parents now. So, you’re happy, right?”

David had another beer. “It’s not a good time, Angie.”

Angie looked confused and appalled at the same time. “What are you suggesting?” she demanded.

David took a big gulp of beer, looked at the floor. “You don’t have to keep it.”

Angie’s eyes went huge, her mouth fell open. Her confusion morphed into anger. “David, are you suggesting I kill our baby?”

David looked at her. “It’s just not a good time, Angie. We had plans. They didn’t include a baby.”

Angie turned on her heel and left the room. Hector heard her moving around her bedroom. David didn’t follow her, or try and talk to her. He just got another beer.

Angie came out with a suitcase. David said nothing,. He just sat there watching, drinking. Angie said nothing, just walked to the door and left. No goodbye scratches, no I’ll come back for you. Nothing. She was just gone. It was now just Hector and his David.

After Angie left, David became a different person—but not a better person. Hector was now alone with David, who, to be honest, wasn’t doing so well himself. He was always angry, drinking and drugging, blowing off work, screaming at the television, screaming at Hector.

David forgot about Hector a lot. He’d be gone days at a time, leaving no food or water for Hector. Hector would have to drink from the toilet, and if he was lucky, David would have left some takeout containers that Hector could scavenge.

Not having food and water was tough, but not being able to go outside to do his business was the worst. If he made a mess in the house, David would turn all his fury towards Hector. He’d yell, and scream, grab Hector by the scruff, and literally throw him outside into the backyard, and slam the door.

Sometimes David would leave Hector out there for days on end. So Hector would bark. And bark, and bark, and bark. He was scared and lonely, and just wanted someone to be nice to him.

One of the neighbours, Mrs. Chevez would give Hector food, and fill an old bucket with water for him to drink. She’d come into the backyard when David was away, pet Hector, talk to him while she filled up the water bucket and gave him a bowl of kibbles. It was the only joy in his life—a life that had once been filled with love.

But the other neighbours were not as understanding as Mrs. Chevez, and they complained to David about Hector’s barking.

One day, Billy, whose house sat behind David’s house, came to the back fence for a “talk.”

“Hey, Dave,” Billy said when David was outside cursing and stomping around trying to get the lawn mower to start. Hector knew that David didn’t like Billy. He called him an idiot. The fact that Billy called David “Dave” made David even angrier than he already was.

“What Billy?”

“It’s, uh, your dog.”

“What about him?”

“Well, when you leave him outside all the time, he barks. A lot.”

David sneered at Billy. “Yeah, so? That’s what dogs do. They bark.”

“But, man, it’s all the time.”

“Whudda you want me to do about it?”

Now Hector could see that Billy was getting a little angry at David. “I dunno, Dave, maybe look after him? You know, occasionally take him inside. Maybe not leave him outside for days on end.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Billy. If I want my dog to live outside, he’ll live outside.”

“I don’t want to call animal control, Dave, but I will. Take care of your dog. And clean up the dog crap—it stinks!”

“Fuck off, Billy!”

It was true—David left Hector outside all the time. He wasn’t allowed in the house. If he barked, David would come out and scream at him. “Shut the fuck up!”

That’s all he ever said to Hector—“shut the fuck up.” There were no more “good boy’s or “who’s a handsome man?” Nothing but “shut the fuck up.” It was like Hector was invisible to David except to yell at. No walks, or scritches, or snuggle time on the couch, no more “I love your, buddy.”

Meals were sporadic—David usually just threw a container of kibble right onto the grass, not even using his special bowl—the one with his name painted on the side. Hector’s world was reduced to the backyard.

And he tried not to bark. But he was lonely, and scared, and cold. He didn’t have a dog house. The only shelter he could find was to burrow his way back into the hedge, where the spindly branches protected him from the worst of the wind, rain, snow, and sun.

Then came Animal Control. They caught David on a day he was home. The officer came in the backyard to see Hector. He looked around, made some notes, and came back to stand beside David. “Your dog needs to have a shelter. You need to ensure that he has proper food and water. You need to clean up the faces. And, you need to control his barking.”

David said nothing, but Hector could see that he was furious. The animal control officer wrote up a warning, and handed it to David. “If I have to come back it a one hundred and seventy-five dollar fine, and possible seizure of the animal.”

Once the animal control officer had left, Hector watched David. He was so angry. He kicked Hector’s water bucket across the yard towards Hector. Hector jumped out of the way. The bucket missed.

“Stupid fucking dog!”

Then he stomped over and kicked Hector. Right in the ribs. Hard. So hard that Hector was lifted off the ground. He thudded down, unable to fully breathe.

Hector had never been kicked before. David has hit him a few times, but Hector was always able to run away and hide. But not this time. Hector couldn’t catch his breath. It hurt to move.

David just looked at him, breathing hard. He turned on his heels and went inside. Twenty minutes later David came back out again, this time with Hector’s leash.

Walkies? Hector was hopeful, but in his heart-of-hearts, he knew there would be no walkies.

Nope, there wasn’t. David clipped the leash onto Hector's collar and dragged him to the truck. He picked him up and threw—literally threw—him into the bed of the truck. Hector limped to the front of the box as close to the from cab as he could get, and hunkered down.

Hector didn’t know where he was going, but he was afraid. He’d never had to travel in the back of the truck before. When it was David and Angie, Hector always sat in the back seat of the truck, on his dog blanket, clipped into the dog harness, happy and secure. Never in the very back.

He wasn’t even restrained, so he bounced around with every pothole David hit. Because of that, Hector made a decision—he was going to bolt. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but anywhere was better than this. When the truck stopped at a light, Hector stood and bounded out of the back of the truck. He landed in a pile on the ground, his side alive with pain. He bolted to the sidewalk, running away from the truck.

“Hector! Get your ass back here! Right now!” David bellowed behind him.

Hector tried to get away, but got tangled up in his leash. He sorted it, and took a step to start running, and,

YANK!

He bounced backwards, losing his balance and falling to the ground. His leash was caught in a grate on the road. He tugged and tugged. David came up, and yanked the leash out of the grate. “Not so smart now, are you?” he sneered.

He was just about to kick Hector again, when a voice yelled, “Hey! You’re not going to kick that dog, are you?”

David snarled “Mind your own fuckin’ business.”

Hector could see a woman approaching. “How ‘bout I take the dog, and we call it even?” she said, holding out her hand for Hector’s leash.

David took a step back. “Get the fuck away from me. He’s my dog. I can do whatever I want.”

He tuned away from the woman and dragged Hector to the back of the truck. This time he tied his leash to one of the ring bolts in the bed of the truck, closest to the tailgate.

The ride was bumpy, windy, raucous. It was terrible. Hector threw up.

When they finally stopped, and David saw what Hector had done, he started screaming at him. Again.

“Stupid fuckin’ dog! Look what you did to my truck! I should make you eat it!”

But he didn’t. Instead, he untied the leash from the bolt, and dragged Hector out of the truck.

Hector was almost was able to land on his feet, but David yanked so hard that Hector landed on his face, the asphalt skinning his chin.

Hector looked around. They were way out of the city. He used to go for drives with Angie and David to places like this. They called it the “country” and they were always looking for farmers’ markets, and roadside stands selling eggs and vegetables.

He dragged Hector past the house, towards a big, rundown barn in the back. The smell hit Hector like a wall. Dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. Hector had never smelled so many dogs all in one place. Even when he had still been living with his litter mates, it wasn’t like this. So much dog smell. It was almost overwhelming.

The Man came out and greeted David. He was carrying a hank of rope. “This the dog?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s just a runt. I’m not giving you the full amount.”

“That’s bullshit! He’s all muscle. And fast.” Hector was a red heeler—solid muscle. He was bred to fight cows and bulls. He was small but mighty. That's why Dave and Angie had adopted him.

“Fifty bucks. Final offer.”

“Fifty bucks! You said a hundred!”

The Man shook his head. “He’s gotta be big to be able to fight.”

David yanked his leash and they started to walk away. “We’re outta here.”

“Sixty bucks” said the man.

“Eighty,” said David.

“Seventy-five.”

“Done.” The man pulled out his wallet and handed David some money. He looped the rope around Hector’s neck.

David unhooked Hector’s collar and pulled it free, bundling it up in his fist. “He’s your problem now.”

And David was gone.

Hector watched him leave, not sure if he was happy or sad.

The Man dragged Hector into the barn where he was met by a cacophony of barks. There were about a dozen dog cages along the wall, most holding a single dog. The Man walked over to the an empty cage and shoved Hector in, took off the rope, and locked the cage. He walked away without a word.

The cage was small, just tall enough for Hector to stand, but not sit. There was just barely enough room to turn around. No food, no water.

He laid his head between his paws, and sighed. This was not good.

“Hey! What’s your name?”

Hector looked towards the cage on the left—a Rottweiler mix. “Hector. You?”

“Theo.”

“Where am I?” asked Hector.

“You don’t want to know,” said Theo, looking hard at Hector.

Hector looked around the barn. There was a big pit in the middle, surrounded by wire fencing. He looked back at Theo. “Yeah, I do.”

Theo shook his head. “It’s the arena.” Hector looked at Theo, not comprehending. “It’s where we fight.”

Hector had a bad feeling. ”Fight?”

“Yeah, man, fight.”

“Who do we fight?”

“Each other.”

Hector sat with that for a minute. David—the same David who had chosen him over his litter mates, cuddled him as a pup, who sat up with him all night when he was really sick after eating chocolate, who ran with him on the trails behind their house, who told Hector that he was the best boy and told him that he loved him forever—had sold him to a dog fighting ring.

“They’re gonna poke you with a cattle prod to get you good an mad, then put you in a ring with another dog. It’s a fight to the death. Even if you win, they’ll shoot you in the head if you’re too badly hurt.”

Hector looked at Theo. He could see scabs and bite marks, especially around his neck. He was missing half his right ear. “You won?”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t pretty.” He paused. “I fought King. He used to be in your cage.” He paused again. “I really liked King.”

“When’s the next fight?”

“Tonight.”

Once it got dark, people started showing up in the barn. They were mostly men—mean looking men in rough clothes. Hector could smell the booze and cigarettes in the air.

The Man walked up and kicked Hector’s cage. Hector didn’t flinch.

“This one,” he told the younger man beside him.

He looked at Theo. “And this one. He did okay last time. He shouldn’t have any problems with the runt. First fight.”

They walked away.

Hector had to fight his only friend in the world, Theo. He was crushed.

“Damn,” said Theo, reading Hector’s mind.

“Yeah, damn.”

The night’s events started. Hector and Theo were dragged out of their cages. Each dog was jabbed by a cattle prod, over and over.

Hector could smell the burnt fur, feel the pain every time the prod hit his skin.

“Theo, I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to fight at all.”

Theo just looked at him, shaking his head. “There’s nothing you can do about it. You either fight, or they kill you right here.”

Hector was silent. The crowd was getting excited. He could hear the loud talk, the anticipation of the night’s fights was palpable. He and Theo were brought into the ring by their handlers. The Man stood between them. There was yelling and hollering. The crowd was calling for blood.

The Man spoke describing Theo’s five matches fought and won. Theo was a true champion. He said nothing about Hector other than he had never fought before.

“Place your bets,” yelled The Man.

Red flashing lights filled the door to the barn. Police and Animal Control officers ran into the building. Chaos erupted. People ran for the doors. The handlers dropped the snare poles. The Man tried to run. Hector leapt forward, and clamped down hard on his leg. He screamed. Theo went for his arm. The Man fell to the ground screaming in pain. As quickly as it started, the dogs let go, and sat quietly amid the mayhem surrounding them. The Man was arrested and taken away.

After the the arrests, and after the hubbub died down, all of the dogs were loaded up in Animal Control vehicles, and taken to the SPCA building. Hector was examined by a vet, his microchip scanned, and he was put in a much nicer kennel at the centre. He fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning he was awakened by the cage door opening and by a familiar voice—Angie.

“Oh my God, Hector! I’m so, so sorry.” He ran out and started whining and circling around Angie’s legs.. Hector thought his tail was going to fall off, he was wagging so hard. She scritched his face, and rubbed his ears. She was crying. Hector was crying.

“I’m so sorry Hector. David wouldn’t let me take you. He wouldn’t let me see you. I’m so, so sorry. I should have tried harder.”

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Whine, whine, whine.

Hector was happy for the first time in a long time. Angie had come back for him.

She bent down and attached a collar and leash around his neck. “Come on, Hector, let’s go home.”