home is wherever your dog is

[kinglearisstupid]

BEFORE

Home is warm and wet and dark. There's plenty of food whenever she wants and it always tastes the same.

She likes this. The sameness.

Just like she likes the noise of home, the lub dub lub dub lub dub that is always in the background. Sometimes the noise gets faster, which is different, but she doesn't mind that too much. It's a good kind of different.

Something's wrong though. Something's different.

Home's been getting smaller and smaller. She didn't notice it at first, but now she has less room to kick and do somersaults. Last time she flipped upside down, she couldn't get back up again.

This, she thinks, is a bad kind of different.

This is a very, very bad kind of different.


AFTER

The first thing she learns is the meaning of cold.

Help, she says. I'm cold. Oh, I'm really cold. I don't like this, and I can't see, why is this thing in my eyes, I hate this, I WANT TO GO HOME.

"She's got a set of lungs on her," a voice says.

Why isn't anybody listening to me? she yells. I said, I want to go home! Right now!

Suddenly something is put around her, something fluffy and soft and then she is less cold. It's a little better, and she says, Okay this is a little better, but I still don't like this, and I would really like to go home now.

As soon as she's said this, another voice --- this one she remembers, actually --- says to her, "Shhhhhhhhhhhh," and she is held close to something warm and soft and she can hear that sound again, the lub dub lub dub lub dub.

This is more like it, she says. All this talking is making her hungry and she starts looking for food. Where is her food? She's used to getting food whenever she wants. Now there is no food and she's still cold and why do her eyes feel so funny?

And then there is food. Glorious food! It is tastes different from what she is used to (a good different, she thinks. Honestly she was getting a little bored of eating the same food all the time.) but it is warm and everything smells nice and she's all right with this.

For now.


1.

She recognizes the voices now.

One of them belongs to the one with the food. She knows The One with the Food from back home and whenever she tries to ask The One with the Food about home, she gets more food. Which is nice, and she doesn't turn down food, because it's not polite, but sometimes she's so full she can't have anymore. Then she says, Thanks, but I'm good. Can we talk about getting me home now?

Sometimes this ends up in something terrible, called changing.

The Other One does most of the changing. He has a deeper voice and very strong arms. He is not as soft as the One with the Food but she likes him anyway.

Except for when he does the changing.

It is cold! She keeps telling him. You're making me cold! Stop it! Do you even know what you're doing?

"Wow, she really doesn't like to be changed," he says.

"She's probably just not used to it yet," TOWTF says.

She's feeling sleepy when changing is finished. She's never been so tired before in her life and she's warm again and full, and she likes it when the Other One talks to her in a quiet voice until she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she is cold again and the bottom half of her is also wet.

Not a good kind of wet.

Excuse me, she asks, but nobody answers.

HELLO? she tries again, a little louder.

No answer.

SOMEBODY PAY ATTENTION! I AM WET AND COLD! FIX THIS!

Immediately, she hears both voices. The Other One says, "What the --- she's lying in a puddle!"

I am, she says. NOW FIX IT.

"Come on," says the One with the Food. She unwraps her and starts the changing. It's cold but it is still better than being in a puddle. When the One with the Food is done, she is warm again.

Thanks, she says.

"Why is she still crying?" The One with the Food asks. "Is she hungry? I just fed her."

"Weltschmerz," says the Other One.

These two, she realizes, are going to take work.


3.

They have names.

The One with the Food's name is Mommy.

The Other One's name is Daddy.

Yes, but what's my name? she asks.

"Shhhhhh," Mommy says and she feels something soft against her head. She likes it. It's called a kiss. "We're going home today!"

Home! she says happily. She can't wait to be home. Sure, she's gotten used to Mommy and Daddy and, honestly, the food is a lot better in this place than home, but she can't wait to be always warm all the time and not have so many people poke her with things, which hurts.

Hurts is that doesn't happen at home.

I'll miss you guys, she says as she is unwrapped and re-wrapped in something different.

Oh no.

Mommy is putting something over her hands.

I don't like this, she says, but I will put up with it since I'll be home soon.

She doesn't like not having access to her hands. She likes her fingers. They are good for sucking when she isn't hungry.

"Daddy's going to take you home now," Daddy says as he takes her from Mommy. "It's gonna take a little while, but you'll behave for us, right?"

It depends, she thinks. Let's talk terms, she says as she snuggles against Daddy.

One moment she is in Daddy's arms, and the next she is set down into something strange. Then there are these straps going across her body and a blanket being put around her and she can't move.

She is being restrained.

What is this? she demands. What are you two doing to me? I do not like this one bit. Explain yourselves.

"Hush, Lauren, we're going home now."

"I'm really not feeling Lauren. She does not look like a Lauren."

"She's not an Isabella either."

"What's wrong with Isabella? It's a good, strong Italian name."

"She'll be one of ten Isabellas in her class."

She does not want to be Lauren or Isabella. She wants to be freed from this horrible monster device immediately and returned home, like she was promised.

But they have no intention of doing that at all, and so she decides to scream the entire time she has to stay in this prison: LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO!

"Well, I can say that we've firmly established she does not like the car seat," Daddy says when the moving finally stops.

Car seat, she says to herself. That is what this terrible thing is called. She will remember this for later.

"We've firmly established that she does not like anything other than my boobs," Mommy says.

"I can understand her reasoning for that. The complete hatred of everything else is what baffles me."

Mommy makes a sound that she hasn't heard before. A happy sound. She likes that sound and wants to hear it again. "Come on, let's just get her inside."

Home! she thinks cheerfully. I'm going to go home! I hope it won't take too long!

In fact, it takes so long that hungry happens and she wants food. She thought she could wait until she got home, but she is just too empty. The food at home isn't nearly as good, so she decides to make this last feeding count.

She doesn't realize until she wakes up that she fell asleep eating.

Is she home?

It's dark, but neither wet nor warm. Those stupid things are still over her hands and she can't put her fingers into her mouth. And --- what are these? Are these bars?

There is a different kind of voice, a friendly one that says, HELLO TINY MASTER! YOU'VE WOKEN UP TINY MASTER! NICE TO MEET YOU TINY MASTER! Something warm and moist nudges her hand through the bars.

Another one, says a voice from the other corner of the room. This one is not as friendly. First that insufferably hairy human being, then a dog, and now this. I can't believe I'm expected to share her with --- what is this, even? --- an oversized burrito.

I LOVE BURRITOS. MY NAME IS MUDGIE AND I LOVE BURRITOS. I ALSO LOVE YOU TINY MASTER. IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN HELP YOU WITH TINY MASTER?

I would really like to go home, she tells him.

The other one says, in a voice that is not very nice, You're already home, kid. You're not going anywhere.

Who are you?

My name is Sergio and, believe it or not, I had her first. Your mother. She was all mine until one day that hairy beast arrived, which was still fine. He changed my litter box. I could deal with him. Then you come along and she decides to bring me to this godforsaken place, where I have to share her not only with your idiot father also this slobbery mess that never quite completed the evolution process. At first I thought it was only temporary, that she'd come to her senses. But after a while, I realized that I was never going home again. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but neither are you.

She lets this information sink in.

I'm never going home again, she repeats.

Oh, look, you're smarter than the dog already!

YOU ARE HOME WHEN YOU ARE WITH ME, TINY MASTER, Mudgie says, nudging her hand again.

This is my home now, she says louder.

This place that is never warm enough and full of noise and people putting things over her hands and having to wait for food and changing and car seats.

THIS IS TOTALLY UNFAIR, she screams. I DO NOT ACCEPT THIS.

Just like that her mommy and daddy run to her side and a second later she is being snuggled and patted and Daddy is talking to her in his soft voice and she is being offered food, which, remarkably, she doesn't want. When she stops crying, they put her back down into the box with the bars and she says, Hey, don't do that. Don't just leave me here. I'm never going home again. I need someone to hold me until I'm finished being upset about it.

"Let's just take her back to bed with us," Daddy says.

"And accidentally smother her when one of us roll over?"

"We might accidentally kill her anyway, if neither of us get any sleep sometime soon."

"Maybe just for tonight."

The bed is nicer than the box with the bars. She has Mommy on one side and Daddy on the other and they are warm and they smell familiar and they pat her back and stroke her head and they kiss her and say things like, "I can't believe we did this."

She supposes that this is the next best thing to home.



TBC ...

Comments

[mayireadtoday]

Very cool.

[kinglearisstupid]

Thanks <3

[rebak1tten]

great story, beezus' personality hasn't changed much as she's aged!

[kinglearisstupid]

Thank you! Beezus apparently was herself before she was even born!

[amichevole]

MY NAME IS MUDGIE AND I LOVE BURRITOS.

I don't care what Sergio says, Mudgie is a smart dog. Burritos are awesome. And this is awesome. Please never stop writing, because Beezus fic is the best thing ever. I never want to stop seeing Beezus fic.

[kinglearisstupid]

Poor Mudgie. His brand of dog wisdom is so easily misunderstood.

I'm just the amanuensis here! Beezus calls the shots. But thank you! This kid is ridiculously entertaining to write and I'm glad that you're enjoying her as much as I am.