Warmth Pt. 01

The rest of the day went without incident and I went to sleep feeling much less anxious than I had twenty-four hours before. The next morning went just like how the previous one did, except for the very end. When I moved to leave this time, Pine widened his eyes and grabbed my arm. I gently removed his hand and walked out the door. I was almost to my car when I heard some noise and turned around to see Pine hit the ground and wrap his arms around my ankles. As I looked closer I saw the blood and I swear my heart stopped for a second.

I rushed him inside and was able to put together what had happened. When I left, Pine must have gone out the door to run after me. He wasn't even dressed yet, he was in his underwear, and the damage to his exposed legs painted a vivid picture. He had either tripped or dived while running and he slammed down onto the driveway, skidding to a stop. He had bruises on his knees and nasty lacerations on the tops of his feet where it scraped against the concrete. I did my best to clean the wounds and bandage them up. When I finished I looked at the clock and saw that I was going to be late.

I ended up leaving for work soon after, although I almost couldn't do it. Pine grabbed me and used a desperate look to beg me to stay. I knew that he needed to accept the fact that I had to leave occasionally, but by the time I had made it out the door and locked it behind me I was almost in tears. It felt like I was abusing him.

The morning's events had haunted me without pause for hours by the time I took my lunch break at work. I ate in silence, feeling horrible about myself. I had done something wrong. I had hurt Pine.

The self-loathing was going strong when I heard something that got my attention. It was just two of my coworkers talking in the breakroom. I looked over and saw the person whose voice made my subconscious set off an alarm.

He was a man a few years older than me named James. We didn't work in the same department, so I wasn't really friends with him. I wasn't exactly friends with any of my coworkers, come to think of it. Even at work I tended to avoid unnecessary interactions or reaching out to anybody, but it's not like I wasn't listening. Over the many months I had worked at the engineering company where I was employed I had spent hours hearing snippets of conversation and learning tidbits about the dozens of people during various parts of the day. For some reason I liked listening in, not to eavesdrop, just to distract myself for a few moments. I didn't think I absorbed any of the information, though. Apparently, I was either listening much closer than I thought I was or I had dug deep into my memory to pull out some information about James. One of the things that he liked to talk about a lot was dogs.

He had been at the company the entire time I had been, so over the years I had heard enough to put together that he absolutely loved dogs. When he was growing up, his family owned a kennel and when I would walk past his cubicle I saw pictures of the dogs he owned. He had worked with them for most of his life. I tried to quell the foolish hope that started building up inside me the second I put that together.

What was I thinking? Why would some random guy I barely knew help me with my problems, and why did I think he would be of particular help to me? It wasn't like Pine was actually a dog. But...that was a huge part of him. I tried my best, but I had no experience actually taking care of a dog before Pine. I was aware that it was a big blind spot in my knowledge.

I thought it over some more. Somebody like James would provide some perspective that I lacked, and I couldn't think of anyone else I had an immediate connection to that was better suited for that. It was a long shot. It was desperate. It was blindly grabbing at anything I could find, but the thought of Pine hurting himself made me willing to try anything. I figured it at the very least couldn't make things worse.

My resolve wavered when reality started seeping in. The simple idea of me going up to somebody who was basically a stranger and asking him to give me advice about taking care of my mentally impaired man-dog hybrid made me want to laugh cruelly. I didn't have a normal problem. It was possible that I was the first person to ever have the troubles I was having. I didn't have a dog. I didn't know what Pine was, but he wasn't a dog. If I couldn't even explain it to myself, what hope did I have explaining it somebody else?

I tried to look at the situation objectively. If somebody had come up to me a month ago and told me about a situation identical to mine, what would I think? My mind started judging that hypothetical person so quickly it made my head spin. It was all so weird in so many ways. I hated confrontation. I hated the idea of people looking at me and making judgments.

Still, the way that Pine looked at me when I left that morning did wonders to make me cow myself into submission. Shyness, self-consciousness, and pride were luxuries I couldn't afford anymore. If I wanted things to get better, I had to get out of my comfort zone.

I needed a strategy, though. I needed a way to make James believe me and actually want to help me. That wouldn't be easy. If I didn't know Pine, I wouldn't believe anything about him myself.

It was with that thought that I got an idea. Not a great idea, but probably the best idea I could work with.

I looked up and realized that while I was busy thinking myself into another dimension James and the person he was talking to had left the break room. I looked at my watch and saw that lunch was almost over. He had likely gone back to his cubicle, so I got up and walked to where I remembered it being.

Thankfully it didn't take long to find him. I stood there for a second, questioning everything, before pushing the doubts away and walking up to his desk. When he heard me approach, he turned and nodded in greeting.

I tried to smile. "Hey, James. I don't know if we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Zach Nathanson from Design." I held out my hand and he shook it.

"Yeah, I think I know you. You're that really quiet guy, right?" He was talking like we were friends and he was teasing me. "So, what's up? Does Design want to talk to me about something?"

He thought I had come on behalf of my department. I shook my head. "No, I actually came over to you for some advice. It's not about work."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What's bothering you?"

I swallowed, praying he couldn't hear me do it. "Well, I'm having some dog-related struggles and I wanted your input."

He looked interested from the moment he had heard the word "dog." He leaned back in his chair and lifted his chin slightly.

"Well, I am the local expert on that subject. What's your problem?"

He was acting so friendly and normal towards me that I felt the tension wracking my body ease up a little bit. Maybe he just had that effect on people in general. He seemed outgoing, confident, and always willing to lend an ear: in other words, like the opposite of me.

"Well...that's the thing. It's sort of a weird problem. I don't know if I can explain it properly to you. I was actually hoping you'd come over to my place and see it in person."

The brightness that James had in his eyes clouded slightly and his brow furrowed. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

"I know it's a lot to ask from somebody you barely know." I admitted. "But I really need some help." At that moment I decided to go all out and lay down as many of my cards as I could.

"I'm afraid that I'm doing something really wrong. I haven't got any experience before this and I'm scared to ask for help, but I need to fix what I did and I don't know how. Please, help me out."

I felt my face heat up and knew I was blushing at how intense I got all of a sudden. Every fiber of my being wanted me to run away and hide, but I forced myself to stay and wait for him to respond.

He blinked a couple times and eyed me curiously.

"Okay, then. What's your address?"

It took me a few seconds to comprehend that he had taken me up on my offer and had asked me a question. I quickly told him my address and he nodded.

"I know that street. That's not far from me at all. I live in the neighborhood next to yours, so that won't take long." He got out a post-it note and wrote it down.

"Thank you so much," I said.

He shook his head. "Don't mention it. I'll come over after work. How does 6:00 sound?" We both got off work at 5:00.

"That sounds great," I said, way too much relief leaking into my voice. I started walking away before he stopped me.

"Hey, Zach."

I turned around.

"Do yourself a favor and stop worrying so much about every little thing. You're gonna give yourself an ulcer."

All I could do was nod and walk off.

When I got back to my desk I just sat there, wallowing in my own embarrassment.

I try to ignore it, but I had known for years that I had social anxiety. I wasn't very outgoing growing up, mainly keeping to my family or a few close friends I had had since childhood. I thought I had gotten better during college. I was branching out, making some more friends and even getting some dates, but it wasn't until I moved to my own place and started living alone that I realized that I had only done it because I felt like I had to. Given the choice between getting lonely occasionally and putting myself out in the world, I quietly accepted that I'd rather be lonely.

I didn't completely close myself off. I tried to make a few friends and even attempted dating every once and a while, but I still tried to live under the delusion that interacting with others wasn't a skill that I had to pick up in order to be happy. The conversation I'd just had made me painfully aware that I was full of crap. I was horrified of what people thought of me and it showed.

Maybe that's part of the reason why I was able to get along with Pine so easily. He didn't care about how inexperienced I was at being a caretaker or friend, he just knew that I cared about him and latched onto that fact.

One thing I knew for sure was that I was going to have to start improving, not just for my sake, but for Pine's as well. I could ignore my own needs, but I couldn't ignore his.

This was a good first step. I knew that getting out of my comfort zone was something I needed to do more. This had to be some huge progress, then, because the thought of telling somebody else about Pine made me so uncomfortable that it hurt. Still, James meeting Pine was my idea. It was what I wanted, and I had a gut feeling that it would help.

That didn't stop me from worrying about it without pause for the rest of the day, though.

VI

The drive home that day wasn't much calmer than the one the day before. When I got back, I was so nervous opening the front door that I was shaking. I called out Pine's name.

He did come up to me, but it wasn't at a run, likely because his knees and feet were hurting. His greeting was more subdued as well. All he did was hug me, stooping down a bit so that his head was against my chest.

I felt like I owed it to him to let him have his fill, so I just stood there, holding him until he pulled away of his own volition. It took five minutes, but I was glad I'd done it. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 5:30. I didn't have much time before James would arrive.

I honestly don't remember much about what I did during those thirty minutes. I was expecting the time to move at a crawl, but the minutes slipped by so fast I couldn't believe it. The next thing I knew I heard the doorbell ring. I glanced at Pine, sitting down on the floor a few feet away. I took a deep breath and moved to open the door.

James was just as friendly as he was before when he greeted me.

"Thank you so much for coming, James. It means a lot to me," I said.

He grinned. "It's no trouble at all. So, what was it you wanted help with?"

I paused, taking a second to gather all my courage before replying.

"Yeah, I'd better get to that now. It'll take a while to explain." I turned. "Hey, Pine, come here."

Pine got up and walked over, slowing down a little bit as he got closer to James.

"This is Pine," I told him. "As far as I can tell, he has brain damage of some sort that makes him act more like a dog than a person."

James' first reaction was to think it was a joke. He put on a confused smile, but it faded away when he saw that I was being serious. Before he could do or say anything else, I continued.

"I know that sounds crazy. I know you probably don't believe me, but please hear me out. Let me tell you what my problem is, and after that, if you want to leave, I won't stop you. You can walk right out that door and I promise I'll never speak to you again, just please give me a chance to explain myself first."

His expression morphed into one that I couldn't read, but after a few seconds he nodded.

I led him into the den and asked him to take a seat on the couch. He complied, but he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. I went to the kitchen and got a glass of ice water before walking back and handing it to James. I got Pine and walked him up to his spot on the couch, which was near where James was sitting. I pulled Pine close and told him in the most assertive voice I could manage to sit down. He did.

I sat on the arm chair catty corner to the couch and started telling him the whole story: my hike, finding Pine, bringing him to my home and learning to take care of him the prior week. It took about ten minutes, and the entire time I was only vaguely aware of what I was even saying. Mostly I was looking at what James was up to.

For the first minute or so he just sat there, looking over at Pine every few seconds. Eventually, he set his glass of water on the coffee table and turned in his seat so that he was facing him.

Considering how scared Pine normally was around any human that wasn't me, he was handling being right next to some man he'd never seen before pretty well. If he was apprehensive he didn't let on, he just looked at James with curiosity mixed with a fair amount of suspicion.

Very slowly James reached out his hand, holding it halfway between Pine and himself. I was wondering what he was doing, and I ended up trailing off in the middle of a sentence.

James turned to look at me. "No, keep going," he said.

As I continued he just kept his hand there, not moving a finger. After a solid two minutes, Pine raised his own hand and held it above James' before touching it like he would anything else.

This went on for a bit before James reached out some more, not aggressively, but definitely in a firmer manner. Pine held still, even as James lay his hand on his head. James paused for a moment before moving his hand back and forth in a petting motion.

That loosened Pine right up. After a few seconds he was enjoying himself, rubbing his head and face against James' palm.

All I could do was watch in fascination, at least until I realized to my horror that I was running out of things to say. I didn't want to keep James any longer than I needed to, so I wrapped it up and waited for him to respond.

After a few seconds that felt more like a few hours James turned to face me.

"Zach, I believe you."

That was pretty close to the last thing I expected him to say. I was so unprepared for it that I couldn't even form a response. Thankfully, James kept talking.

"I have no idea what this kid's major malfunction is." He jerked his head in Pine's direction. "I don't know much about psychology, but I do know about dogs, and he's acting so much like one that it's starting to seriously freak me out."

I nodded once, and he continued.

"I don't think you're the type of person who would make this up. The way you talked to me back at the office made me genuinely concerned for you. Still, it was a smart move on your part to ask me to come over. I don't think I would have been convinced if he wasn't right in front of me."

The knot of pure anxiety that had been inside my body from the moment James entered my house finally started to loosen. All I could do was thank him.

"So, I'm guessing your concern has something to do with these?" He pointed to the bandages on Pine's feet.

I nodded and explained to him what had happened that morning and the day before.

He sat back a little and pondered. "What was his reaction to you coming home today?"

"He just hugged me. He didn't assault me like he did yesterday."

James smiled slightly. "Then I think you're gonna be fine. Dogs are simple creatures. They see their master leave, they think they won't come back, especially at first, but there are some dogs that really freak out when you leave the second time. Pine just panicked when he saw you walk out this morning, but I think he's starting to understand that you'll keep coming back."

I let out a breath I had been holding in for God knew how long. "You really think so?"

"If Pine acts like any other dog I've met, yes."

I glanced over at Pine, who had moved over until he was sitting right next to James. I felt myself smile.

"That's really good to hear. I was scared I did something wrong."

He shook his head. "It's just him getting used to your schedule. I have to say, though, Pine must have really latched onto you." He turned to look at Pine before returning his gaze to me.

"Can I...?"

I put together what he was asking. "Not at all, go ahead."

James returned to playing with Pine a bit more, scratching his head like I said he liked. Pine was fully comfortable now, loving all the attention.

I looked at James. He mostly just looked like somebody's dad. He had short dark hair and a trimmed beard. He was about 5'11" when he was standing and carried himself with confidence. He looked really straight-laced and serious, at least until you looked at his eyes. They sparkled playfully, which matched well with how informal and friendly he was.

James had scratched Pine enough that he started shaking his leg. He chuckled. "That's so weird!"

I laughed a little myself. "That's not even close to how weird it gets."

After a bit, James stood up and I got up with him. We started making our way to the door.

"You know, I've got two dogs myself," he told me. "You said that Pine loves playing with them, right? I don't live far away. Maybe you could bring him over."

My face lit up. "That sounds perfect."

James said goodbye and left.

Once he had gone I walked to the den and collapsed on the couch, exhausted from the stress of the past two days. Pine crawled up to me and nuzzled my arm before laying down, his head resting on my leg.

I sighed. "You're gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that?"

Pine only responded by scooting just a little bit closer.

For a while I just sat there, stroking his cheek with my hand, before getting up so I could cook dinner.

*****

As interesting as the period of discovery was, getting to know Pine's various forms of weirdness that first week, I look back even more fondly at the weeks after. That was the time where I was mostly just used to having Pine in my life. It was fun. It was nice.

Many of my favorite memories from that time period I had James to thank for. On the weekend after I had returned to my job, I went over to his house so Pine could meet his dogs. He had a German shepherd mix named Flag and a collie mix named Comet. James told me they were both rescues.

Flag followed James around like he was his shadow. He was friendly enough with me and even more so with Pine, but I could tell that he was always at his happiest when he was right next to James. He looked at him differently than he did anybody else. I recognized that look. I saw it every time Pine looked at me.

Comet was more of a free spirit, more willing to leave James' presence and mingle with others. She developed a liking for Pine almost instantly. She was the only dog I had met that was able to fully return Pine's enthusiasm when he was interacting with her. Pine would play with Comet, and after a few minutes he'd get so happy I'd think he would have a heart attack.