Karen sat in the lunch room at the Youth Detention Center. Sullen and barely responsive, she was the stereotypical image of a teen in trouble. Piercings and tattoos accented a black hoody with a white skull and cross bones on the sleeves.
“Look.” said the warden “ If you work until your case is heard you'll get a reference and it will help to get the case dismissed. It's dirty work, but the Animal Shelter needs volunteers.”
“OK.” said Karen finally. Karen went to the Animal Shelter and cleaned cages all day. The next day she volunteered again. On the third day she went to court.
“Complete forty hours of community service and stay at the Women's Shelter for thirty days. Don't let me see you back here.” said the judge.
Karen went back to the Animal Shelter where she worked all week. She'd met a big, friendly dog, quite thin, with a white ear and one white foot. With no tag on his collar she called him Jake. “Jake's” days at the Animal Shelter were running out. Unclaimed dogs at the Animal Shelter were put down after forty five days...he'd been there for thirty-nine. He watched her with his head on one side while she worked.
“Where do you come from?” she asked him.
“Woof.” said Jake and thumped his tail on the cage floor.
On Monday the Animal Shelter didn't call for work. Karen went to the Child Services Office, got a food voucher and sold it for ten dollars. She panhandled all day and counted her money. She had fifty three dollars. She went to the Animal Shelter and got permission to take Jake out for a walk.
“Big, old dogs are to hard place.” said the Animal Control Officer.
Karen paid the fifty dollar fee. Jake was free. Together they went to McDonald's and with a coupon the remaining three dollars got them each a double cheeseburger. Karen had never seen such a happy dog.
“ I couldn't let you die there.” she said.
“Woof.” said Jake and his tail thumped against her. For the first time in a long time, Karen smiled.
Jake wasn't welcome at the Women's Shelter. That night she spent a chilly night in a park with Jake's warm body next to her.
In the morning, another trip to the Child Services Office got her another food voucher. There was a notice on the job board offering cash paid daily for delivering papers door to door. Karen and Jake went to the address on the notice.
“The papers are ready at midnight and must be delivered by 6am. You have to return the satchel to get paid.”
Karen's route had six hundred papers. There were six bundles. She split the first bundle into each of the satchel pouches and picked it up. With the satchel on her shoulders she could barely walk, after half an hour she sat on the curb exhausted and demoralized. Jake wanted to get going, this a was a good walk.
“Woof.” he said and thumped his tail.
Karen tied a knot in the strap of the satchel and draped it over Jake's back.
"There.” she said, “you deliver the papers.”
Jake walked ahead to the next gate and looked back at Karen until she caught up. It seemed like he knew the routine. She took a paper out of the satchel and tossed it onto the porch. Jake walked on to the next gate. The two of them delivered papers like that all night long. In the morning Karen had forty two dollars. She bought dog food and girl food and convinced the matron at the Women's Shelter to let Jake sleep on the back porch for the day. That night Karen and Jake delivered six hundred more papers. She bought plastic rain ponchos for them both at Army & Navy. They delivered papers six nights a week for three more months, sleeping at the shelter by day and delivering papers all night. The streets were safer for Karen with Jake around and he never left her side. The nights got shorter and warmer. Karen lost some weight, Jake gained some. Looking in the mirror one spring day, Karen took out her piercings. Her skin was clear and her hair shone. She was eighteen years old and she wasn't angry anymore.
“Woof.” said Jake, anxious to get going. It was 6:00 am and Karen had just been paid. Together they watched the sun rise. Lately, Karen had begun to notice things she hadn't noticed before. The sound of the birds at dawn, the scent of the lawns after a spring rain. The smile of the girl at the coffee counter. Karen put her arms around Jake's neck. Karen realized that she was happy.
“Woof.” said Jake.
One night when Karen and Jake arrived for work the supervisor at the Distribution Office said.
“You wanna work in the office here startin' Monday we got an openin' ...be for a month at least.”
“Can Jake stay? “ asked Karen.
“No problem.”
Karen did office and warehouse work for the next two years, shipping and receiving the papers and entering route information into the computer. Jake patrolled the loading dock. All the drivers got to know him. She rented a basement suite with a co-worker and walked Jake every day at the beach.
One Monday in September Jake limped over to her and didn't woof. The next day he could barely stand and he shook. She took him to an animal hospital in a cab.
The vet felt the hard mass in Jake's side. Later he showed her the x-ray.
Jake looked at her and thumped his tail weakly but he didn't woof.
“You saved my life.” she said with her hand on his head.
Walking alone for the first time in years, Karen went out of the hospital onto the street, walked without direction, past the Distribution Office, past the park where she'd spent that first cold night with Jake, past the houses where they'd delivered the papers all those nights all those months and years ago, down to the beach where she walked every day these days with Jake. She sat on a bench and looked out across the bay, at the mountains and the city and the sea while her tears fell. The people went by with their dogs and children. The sun slowly dropped. The air cooled. She sat there for a long time.
“We made a good team.” she said out loud. “ I saved your life and you saved mine. I loved you Jake and I'm going to be okay.”
JulianOnePlanet Publications Copyright 2009
First Published in Vancouver in the Metro Pet Gazette February 2009
