Home Base

     “Here you go, little brown dog,” the MaMA said as she placed me in a plastic crate. “You have to sit in here until you are big enough to ride shotgun.”

     I didn’t like being enclosed like this. Tactically, it was all wrong. My field of vision was reduced to a few slits in the side and the barred door in the front. When I took a whiff of the air, I could detect nothing but plastic.

     “I don’t like this,” I whined, but the MaMA either didn’t hear me, or she didn’t understand. Number Two often said that humans didn’t speak our language, that they expected us to be seen and not heard. It must be true, for the only other humans I saw before today were the staff from High Command, and they never spoke to us besides to tell us when chow was on. I always figured that they felt we were just lowly recruits, so why would they want to talk to us? 

The MaMA went out of my view. With metallic slam I was suddenly shadowed in darkness. Out the front of the crate, I could see the back of two chairs with blue sky peeking between them.

     The MaMA reappeared in one of the seats and turned around to look at me.

     “Hang tight little brown dog, we’ve got a long way until we get home,” she said then faced the front.

     A mighty roar came from below me and the floor began to vibrate. We were in the belly of a beast, and I was trapped in a plastic cage with no way to fulfill my duty to protect and serve the MaMA. My first day on the job and I was failing. I shouted out to the MaMA, she had to know we were in desperate peril.

     “Don’t worry,” she said to me as she adjusted a small mirror between the seats. “I’ll get you there safe.”

     I realized then that we were not in a steel beast, but in a car. I’ve heard of these contraptions from the General. A transport vehicle which, he explained, was a frightening, but necessary mode of getting to places: to see medics, replenish supplies, go out to do field training, or get some delicious civilian food.

     I chuckled to myself for getting worked up. Here I thought we were in almost certain doom, and I with nothing to protect the MaMA but a soft, sweet scented blanket.

     Though I had to admit, I was not a fan of the car. The constant noise and shaking interrupted my natural senses. My limited vision kept me from gauging where we were going. Any sudden turn threw off my balance and I wobbled around in the crate. I resigned to laying down on the blanket. The plush, luxurious blanket cradled me unlike any pile of my siblings ever had before. I buried my nose in the fleecy folds and took in the comforting bouquet. I don’t know if it was the aroma, the stress of the day, or the lack of nap time, but suddenly my eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

     I was light as air, swimming in a weightless fog, then rudely dropped. I woke up and was lost. Where were my litter mates? My comfortable pile of pups? My bowl of kibble and my training yard? My stomach clenched, and all of a sudden I missed them. I was alone, scared, and stuck in an awful crate. In my state of anguish, I did what proper procedure called for at a time like this; I began to howl.

     There are only a few good reasons, according to my training, that a Puggle should howl. One: to alert a human of danger. Two: to alert danger that lurks in the darkness that you are a ferocious beast, not to be messed with. Three: to welcome someone home, or to say goodbye, as my litter mates had done for me. Four: when you gosh darn feel like it.

     I took the official stance to howl: firmly seat your rear on the ground, take a deep breath, toss your head back allowing your ears to dramatically cascade down your back, and Ooooooooooo.

     “Oh, little brown dog, you’re up,” said the MaMA, peering into the mirror. I could only see her eyes, but I guessed she could see all of me. “Did you have a good nap?”

     I laid back down but kept a sharp eye on the MaMA. I cocked my head to the side to let her know I was listening.

     “We are almost home,” she said. “We should probably give you a good name. I can’t keep calling you little brown dog, and I’m not going to call you Number Four.”

     A code name? I wasn’t opposed to Number Four, it was the only name I had been called. But I understood that I needed to have an alias, for undercover operations.

     “Luna? How do you like Luna? You sure howl like a Luna.”

     “Nyuck,” I said.  I did not like Luna.

     The MaMA raised an eyebrow. “Nyuck? You don’t like Luna, huh?”

She understood me! No matter what Two said, the MaMA understood what I said. Perhaps she spoke our language.

     “How about Puddin’?”

     No, way. I snorted, put my head down on my front paws, and sighed.

     “Okay, not impressed with Puddin’.” She didn’t say anything for a while but then she gazed into the mirror and said, “How about Fritter?”

     I raised my head. That sounded like a good name. 

     “You like Fritter,” she asked with wide eyes. I yipped a yes. “So, Fritter it is then.”

     A vengeful drowsiness fell upon me again, even though I just had a nap. I fought a yawn, but it won.

     “Are you bored? Don’t worry, it won’t be long now. Then you will have plenty of do with Schnapps and the rest.”

     The rest? How many dogs were at this base? Were they Puggles like me, or other breeds? My mind drooled at the possibilities of meeting other breeds, the adventures I could have; I might even see a cat. My sadness lifted and I looked forward to getting to my new home.

     The blanket got me again. I woke from a deep sleep cursing the aromatherapeutic spell it cast. We had stopped moving and the MaMA wasn’t in her seat. For a moment, I feared she saw me sleeping again and brought me back to return me. I didn’t want the MaMA to think she got a lethargic pup. Usually, I was full of energy, first of my litter to rise and take on the day. 

     My fears were dispersed when the side door opened and a whoosh of cold air flooded the car.

     “We’re here, Fritter,” the MaMA said. The crate lifted and turned. I caught a quick glimpse of my new surroundings. White snow covered the ground, with only a few pathetic patches of tall grass poking through.  The smell of spring was gone, instead, this place was still in the throes of winter. The air was sterile and still. Ice crystals went up my nose and I sneezed. 

     “Bless you,” MaMA said as she set the crate down, then opened the door. As much as I wanted to be free of the confines of that blasted crate, the thought of leaving the warmth of the blanket made me second guess freedom.

     “Don’t be scared little von,” a new voice said from the side of the crate. A grey dog with wiry fur peered through the gaping opening. “Dere is nothing to fear.”

I cautiously got up and exited the crate. The chilly air recharged my energy, and yet I didn’t know what to do or say. The newness of everything excited and overwhelmed me all at the same time. 

The grey dog stood over me and inspected every inch of my body. The MaMA removed the blanket and replaced the crate back into the car. 

     “Schnapps, this is Fritter,” she said. “I expect you to show her the ropes.”

     “Are you my new Drill Sargent,” I asked.

     “You are my new partner,” the grey dog said. “I kept telling dem I didn’t need a new partner, but you know how humans are.”

     “I guess.” Perhaps Schnapps didn’t know how to communicate well, she certainly spoke funny.

     “Brrr! Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here,” the MaMA said as she half stepped toward the home base.

I looked at the home base, it was huge, with many levels, yet I could not see a porch.

     “Where are the sleeping quarters,” I asked.

     “Ve sleep inside,” Schnapps said.

     “Whoa, inside? I’ve never slept inside.”

     “It is von of de perks of de job. Come along.” Schnapps followed MaMA.

     I trotted after them, but stopped just short of the door. The home base loomed over me.

     “C’mon Fritter,” MaMA said. “This is your home now.” She slid open the door and the heat rushed out to welcome me. The same scents I found in the blanket came to me, along with others I couldn’t register. I padded into the house. 

     The heat enveloped me and threatened to put me to sleep once again. I resisted its siren call and scanned my new surroundings. I saw things I only rumored about in PUP camp. Couches and chairs with pillows and blankets. The floor was covered with carpet, a fluffy substance, like the snow outside, but not as cold. Out of the corner of my eye, a black mass appeared. I turned and focused in on it, but it ran up the stairs. 

     “Me-OW,” it shouted as it ran. I looked to the MaMA for answers, but she was also watching where it had gone.

     “Well, I guess the cat voiced his opinion,” she said. “I guess we won’t see him for a while then.”

     “Good riddance,” growled under her breath.

     A cat, a real life cat! Though, a rude one, I was excited that I finally got to meet one.

     Schnapps turned to me and asked, “Are you hungry?”

The thought of food turned on my drooling switch. “Oh yes, please.”

Schnapps went up the stairs, but stopped at the first landing and looked down at me. “I suppose you haven’t been trained on stairs? You are still little yet, ve vill concentrate on climbing later.”

The MaMA put her hands around me and lifted me up. “Here we go, Fritter. Let’s get some dinner.”

     She carried me up the stairs and set me down on the smooth, wooden floor. I slipped and slid as I tried to walk. I had no traction, unlike the carpet downstairs, it was like walking on ice.

     “Come along, little von.”

     “Sorry, I can’t seem to get my feet straightened out.”

     “It does take some time getting used to,” Schnapps said. “The food dish is over here, but until you are at full strength, you vill be getting your own separate bowl wit de special food.”

MaMA set down a small dish of kibble next to the large one. I tore into the food, forgetting my manners.

     “Whoa, dere. No one else is going to take your food.”

     “Oh,” I said swallowing a mouthful of deliciousness. “Force of habit.”

     “Ve get fed twice a day. A delicious breakfast, and a bowl full of kibble to nosh on throughout the day. So don’t eat it all at once.”

     I looked up from my now empty bowl and gave Schnapps a sheepish grin. She furrowed her bushy brow then rolled her eyes.

     “Follow me.” She trotted to a door across the room, her nails clipping across the high polished floor. I took a deep breath and tried to mimic her stride, but my unaccustomed feet betrayed me and I slid across the floor. My skid came to a halt at the rug in front of the door,  just short of taking Schnapps out. She stared at me with incredulity. 

     “If you haf to go outside to make, or any other reason, you just scratch on de door, like so.” She raised her paw and gave the door a good couple of scrapes.

     “Uh huh, go outside to make,” I nodded thoughtfully. “Make what?”

     Schnapps sighed. “Make, use the Vey Cey, do your duty?”

     I still didn’t have a clue what she was trying to say.

     “GO POTTY,” she barked.

     “Oh, that make.”

     “Look, I’m sure it’s been a long day for you. Let’s just worry about de rest of de tour and training tomorrow,” she said then turned tail and trotted across the ice rink of a floor. She approached yet another couch and jumped up, then rested on a pillow.      “Good night, little von.”

     “Uh, ok. Good night,” I said. I turned to the door and gave it a practice scratch.

     “Do you have to go outside?” The MaMA came up from behind and before I could tell her I was just practicing, she picked me up. “Wow, I can’t believe you picked that up already. Good dog, go outside.”

     I really didn’t have to go, but since we were heading out, I guess I had better make.