Warmth Pt. 01

I was also the one keeping him clean: washing his hands, brushing his teeth, showering him, and making sure he had clean clothes. I didn't mind doing it, though. In a strange way it was kind of relaxing.

He didn't learn too much that week, and I'll admit that that was mostly my fault. I hadn't really taken care of anything or anyone before, but I realized that I liked it, even if I wasn't sure how good a job I was doing.

Most of the learning during that period of time happened on my part, finding the ins and outs of Pine, and I was discovering new things constantly.

One thing that I had underestimated when I first met him was how much touch factored into every single aspect of his life. He seemed to use his tactile sense the way an average person used their sense of sight. He couldn't just look at something, he had to feel it. If it was small enough he would pick it up and roll it around in his hands. If it was too big for that he would do the gentle tapping on it. The way something felt was always the thing that mattered most to him.

Aside from gathering information, he just seemed to want to keep his hands busy at all times. One of his habits was playing with his hair. When it was down, he would rake his hands through it or twist it around with his fingers. When it was up in a ponytail he would play with the little chunks in the front that stuck out.

His hair was only Pine's second favorite thing to touch; his absolute favorite thing to put his hands all over was me. It was something that increased instead of decreased with familiarity. It didn't matter what I was doing, about a dozen times a day he would approach me and do that light touching on my skin, hair, or clothes. He never got tired of it.

I had no clue what it was about me that he found so fascinating, but it made me more than a little uncomfortable, especially at first. I'm not a person who likes being touched in general, and Pine had no concept of personal space. He was also absolutely relentless. So many times, I would push him away, and when I did, he would take the hint and stop, but he would usually come back within an hour and try to pick up right where he left off. The nuzzling also increased in frequency over time. I didn't mind the way it felt, but it was incredibly weird before I got used to it.

To be fair, as much as he liked touching me, he liked me touching him even more. I got a taste of that pretty early on with the head scratching, but it didn't stop there, not by a long shot. He seemed to appreciate any instance where my hands came into contact with his skin. For a time, it was the only thing I knew of that could consistently make him smile. Aside from scratching his head, he had some other favorites that I discovered during that first week, each with different reactions. Often when I took off his shirt, my hands would skim his sides, and it would make him shudder slightly. Whenever I put up his hair he would warm when my fingers grazed his cheeks. My personal favorite response of his was when I scratched his back. My nails grazed against it by accident one day and I saw a tremor run through his body. Experimentally, I scratched right at the spot in between his shoulder blades, probably the hardest part on the body to reach. When I did so, he corded all of his muscles at once, making him arch his back. I stopped because I seriously thought the pleasure of it would make him pass out or something.

I grew to learn that touch wasn't just the primary source of information for Pine, it was his method of communication, how he expressed himself. It was quite different from how I saw the world, but I already knew that his brain wasn't wired the same way mine was. That's why, despite the how odd the constant closeness felt, I got used to his ministrations, and learned to respond in kind. It was like learning a new language, but I was able to get the hang of it with practice.

It was through this line of reasoning that I let Pine sort of commandeer the sleeping arrangement. I think I was expecting him to only want to be in my bed with me on that first night, but he followed me to my room the second night and every night after. On night two, he was still trying to make himself small and kept close to the edge, but he had relaxed somewhat. With each successive day, he unfurled himself slightly and moved a little bit closer. I wasn't sure how far he would take it until night six, when he was right against me, almost on top of me. We both slept on our right sides, and his entire back was touching my chest. I tried to push him away, but he resisted, refusing to budge. Considering how thoroughly submissive Pine had been with me moving his body around prior, I was shocked. At the time it might have been the most conviction or desire he had ever displayed about anything.

Because of that, I decided to let him have his way. I tried to adjust my position, but I had no idea what to do with my free arm. The only thing that felt right was to just to lay it on Pine, and when I did that he was asleep so quickly it was almost comical. He clearly loved it, but mentally it was a lot for me to take in at once. I could feel his every breath. I was so close that I could smell his natural scent. It was probably the most intimate way that two people could sleep in a bed together.

I had to remind myself that Pine didn't see physical contact the way I did. Pine just wanted this because it was what he found most comfortable. I had to admit it didn't feel bad on my end, either. Once I started to imagine him as just a really big, really warm stuffed animal, I was able to relax a bit and fall asleep.

From that day forward, Pine would insist on being the little spoon every single night. Unlike the touching, which I mostly just got used to, I grew to genuinely love spooning with Pine. He seemed to be the optimal height for it and was always willing to share his warmth with me. I'm a skinny guy, so my body temperature can change pretty easily. In my life, there were countless times where I would go to sleep comfortable and wake up chilled to the bone. That never happened when Pine was in my bed with me.

That was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Pine's psyche. It was fascinating to learn so many new things with every passing day. One of the strangest things about living with him is that there were both times that I'd forget he wasn't actually a dog shaped like a human and times when I'd forget that he wasn't just a normal person.

There were so many little things about him that made me look at him the way I would a pet. Much of his body language was very canine, the way he sat with his hands in front of him or lay on the couch curled up on his side. He appreciated smells much more than the average guy, in fact I would find him somewhere with that candle at least once a day. He loved being petted, scratched, and held, but one very human type of touch, tickling, did absolutely nothing for him. He seemed to sleep more than I did, as well as just lay around with his eyes closed sometimes. He loved it when I would take him on walks around my neighborhood, and one of the most doglike things about him was the way he would react to seeing an actual dog in person.

Often when we were on a walk I could tell a dog was nearby before I could even see or hear it because Pine's entire body would light up. Whenever we came across one of my neighbors walking a dog, I'd have to grab his arm to keep him from running up to them. He absolutely loved interacting with the dogs, so much so that he was even willing to get close to the human owners that he was normally so frightened of. Thankfully, none of the dogs' owners minded him or thought it was strange how into it he'd get. He'd stroke them and pat them and nuzzle them until I had to quite literally pull him away before things got weird. The dogs themselves also had an affinity for Pine. I was starting to think that on some level they could sense that he was more like them than any other human they knew.

On the other side of the coin there were attributes of Pine that were strikingly human. He had fine motor skills no dog could even dream of. To my shock, he was fine using doors, turning on lights, and even opening packages of food. He was completely okay with wearing clothes, even shoes. When he was sitting on the ground or laying down he looked like a dog, but when he walked, ran, stood, or sat in a chair he looked like any other human. He was much better at blending in while out in public that I would have expected.

Definitely the most human thing about Pine was that he was totally capable of getting bored. As much as he made me think that he could just touch me or play with his hair all day and be satisfied, often even that wasn't enough to keep his attention. Whenever he got bored, he'd sulk. Okay, maybe "sulking" isn't the right word, but he would sit down and gaze listlessly off at nothing for a while. We live in an age with so much technology and entertainment at our fingertips that most people can relieve boredom pretty easily, but Pine had some serious limiting factors to him. He couldn't watch a show, read a book, or even have a conversation with another person. At first, I was at a loss at what I could do to help him. I thought about it for a while and the only thing that came to mind was that he might enjoy clay, since he loved using his hands so much. I went to a local art supply store and looked around until I found something. It was an oil-based clay that didn't dry. It was firm but became more malleable when warmed up in one's hands. It sounded perfect, so I bought some.

Pine was fascinated when he first handled it. After watching him play with it long enough that I was reasonably sure he wouldn't try something cute, like eating it, I walked off and was able to have thirty minutes of peace. To my surprise, when I got back I saw that Pine was actually making something. It wasn't very well defined or detailed, but it was a human head, possibly mine specifically. When I looked at him he had a glimmer in his eyes that I hadn't seen before.

As silly as it was, I felt a weird surge of pride at that moment, probably like the pride a parent would have if their child made them something. Without really thinking, I leaned in and gave him a little kiss on his forehead. I was mortified when I realized what I was doing and pulled back, but to my delight it made Pine smile a little.

In the weeks and months ahead, it was moments like that that made all the extra work worth it. I'm not saying that I didn't get annoyed when I'd have to wash his hands ten times in a day. I had to spend almost all of my spare money buying stuff for him like clothes and extra food. There were times when he'd go to bed at 7 PM and insist that I'd go to bed with him. But the idea, the simple thought that I could get happy just by seeing him happy was...nice. I've felt that way about other people, my parents, friends, girlfriends, but with Pine it was different. There was something more nurturing about it.

The relationship wasn't without its struggles, however. My least favorite thing about Pine, something that I truly hated was what he would do at night every few weeks, starting at one of the last nights of my vacation time. It was the middle of the night and in my groggy state it took me a moment to even realize that I had been woken up. It didn't take long to figure out why, though. Pine was wriggling, squirming next to me, and it was getting more intense with every passing second. I sat up to get a better look and saw that all of his limbs were twitching and he was breathing heavily. When he let out a whimper I realized he was having a nightmare and shook him awake.

Pine was not in a good state when he came to. His face broke out into a cold sweat. His eyes nervously darted around the room. Even though he was panting, gasping for air, he clamped over his mouth and nose with both hands to stifle his breathing. It looked like he was having a panic attack but was even more scared of somebody hearing him.

I did the only thing I could think of, which was just to hug him tightly and not let go. Eventually he relaxed, in five minutes enough to lower his hands and actually breathe, and in five more minutes enough to return the hug and bury his face into my chest. I felt wetness on the shirt I was wearing and realized he had started crying. The whole time, I didn't move a muscle.

It was definitely one of the endless number of moments where I wished that I could talk to Pine. I had no way of knowing what he was dreaming about or how I could help him. All I could do was hold him and try to comfort him with my presence. I didn't think that that was enough.

By the time Pine had calmed down I was in no mood to just go back to sleep, so I brought us to the kitchen for some water. As we sat there at the table, I was relieved to at least see that he didn't look so damn distressed anymore. I think that was when I realized that my favorite part about getting to know Pine was watching him open up emotionally.

When I found him in the woods, he had blocked himself off from the rest of the world. He had set up walls, determined to hide all emotion and never show weakness. I compared the blank expression he always had to a poker face, but I'm starting to think that that was a better analogy than expected. It was like a mask, one that was thick and rigid and fixed to his face.

But as he spent more time with me, I could see cracks begin to slowly form in that mask. He became more and more comfortable showing affection to me and letting me know when he was happy. That night he had let me see him in a very dark place, when he was at his weakest and most vulnerable.

It's not like all the walls got torn down completely in a week. They didn't; he still wasn't very expressive and often acted like it was a huge inconvenience when he wanted anything, but progress was being made. He was starting to come out of his shell, and I was happy about that. The more I got to know Pine the more he revealed himself to be a very warm person, tender and caring.

I was lost in these thoughts when I heard a thud that made me jump a little. I turned and saw that Pine had fallen asleep on the table. I had to stifle a laugh. Quietly I got up and pulled his chair out a bit so I could get underneath him. I straightened up until I was holding Pine on my back and carried him back to the bed.

Once I turned out the lights and put everything away, I returned to my room, though I guess it was our room by then. Before I got into bed with Pine I took some time to just look at him.

I couldn't pretend that I clearly understood what was wrong with his brain or how he worked, but I could tell that Pine was fundamentally a simple person. He just had a lot of love to give, only asking to feel some of that love in return. I was more than happy to do that for him.

I carefully lay down behind him and gave his hair a little kiss before trying to wrap as much of my body around him as I could.

At that point I didn't know that the night terrors would be recurring. I wasn't aware of how many more times I'd have to calm him down, or how I would never be able to get used to seeing Pine that scared, trapped in some awful place I couldn't follow him to.

At the moment I just held him protectively, hoping that in my arms Pine could feel safe.

V

When the alarm on my phone went off, my eyes snapped open and I scrambled to turn it off as quickly as possible. When it was quiet again, I looked at Pine. If he was awake, he showed no indication of it.

I got out of bed and began all the preparations for the day. As I was doing them, though, I was spending much more of my energy worrying. It was my first day of work since I'd found Pine and I was nervous.

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about Pine starving himself while I was gone. I'd done some experiments the past week and knew that Pine treated his spot at the kitchen table the way a dog would treat their food bowl: if he was hungry and there was food there, he'd eat it. I'm not sure what I would have done if that hadn't been the case.

What I was really worrying myself sick over was how he would react to me being gone all day.

I'd left the house multiple times in the days before that one. I had to, to get extra food, buy clothes for Pine, and stock up on other provisions, but with all those times I was gone for an hour at the most, and Pine was always excited to see me come back. After a few times, the first thing he'd do when I'd return is walk up to me and give me a big hug. It would be one of the highlights of my day when it happened, but it made me nervous. I know he liked me a quite a lot, but I had no idea how that feeling would manifest itself over the course of ten hours.

I had a few more things to do that day than I normally did during the morning before work: making a second lunch for Pine, laying some clothes down at his spot on the couch, making sure that there was a fresh slab of clay waiting for him on the kitchen counter, but it all seemed to go by way too fast. Before I knew it, I had done all I needed to do and it was time for me to leave. I figured the worst thing to do would have been to make Pine think that I vanished while he was asleep, so I got him up and dragged him to the front door so I could see him off.

"Okay, Pine, I'm heading to work now. I'll be back by evening. You're going to be fine, everything is okay." I was reassuring myself more than anything else.

I gave him a kiss on the cheek before I left.

The entire work day I was unfocused and distracted. I did my job, but my mind was mostly somewhere else. All I could think about was each passing hour being another hour Pine was alone. I had considered going home for my lunch break, but instead I just cut my lunch short so I could leave work a little bit earlier. On the ride home, I was some of the most stressed I had ever been. Maybe I shouldn't have been so busy worrying about Pine and tried to do more to prepare myself for this. My mental state was a disorienting mix of never wanting to know what had happened and wanting to know what had happened immediately. After both an eternity and no time at all, I had made it back to my house.

I called out Pine's name as I opened the front door and only had time to put down what I was holding before he pounced. He ran to me and leapt into a bear hug that knocked the wind out of me. I tried to stabilize myself by getting down on my knees before I realized that that was a horrible mistake. Before I could even process that something was happening, Pine had pushed me down onto the carpet. I was laying on my back and he was crawling all over me.

He was smelling me and touching me and nuzzling me as if my body was a powerful drug that he was in withdrawal from. I had missed him, too, but the charm of him being so happy to see me had worn off completely by the time he had done it for two uninterrupted minutes. Not so gently I pushed him away and he seemed to finally calm down enough for me to get up again.

Now that he was further than one inch away from my face, I noticed that he was wearing the clothes that I had set out for him. That was a good sign. When I got up and walked to the kitchen I noticed that he had eaten his lunch. That was a good sign, too. When I walked over to the counter to see a halfway decent clay replica of the tree in front of our home I finally allowed myself to breathe a little easier. I didn't have any reason to worry so much. Pine was able to function normally while I was away; he just missed me. I turned to him and saw that after his frenzied greeting much of his hair was splayed out over his face. I laughed at the sight and got one of the dozens of hair-ties I had bought that were scattered all over the house. After I put his hair in a ponytail I kissed his exposed forehead and he nuzzled my cheek.