7 years, 4 months postmortem

Making myself happy proved to be a difficult task, but not impossible.

Where days used to turn into weeks, weeks now turned into months. Visits to the Earth Observatory slowly became less a part of my daily routine and more so whenever I felt like checking in on Bay and Stormy. Over the years, the visits became less frequent, until I only stopped by once every three or four months.

Bay and Stormy had their lives figured out. It took Stormy a few years, but he eventually became a dog that a human could be proud of. Aside from a few flaws—leash pulling being the worst one—he didn't seem so bad. He protected Bay, made her happy, and that was all that mattered.

He also managed to shred every version of Squeaky Duck that Bay bought him—but my Squeaky Duck was safe in a box out of Stormy's reach, so that affair did not bother me as much as it used to.

Knowing that Bay was in mostly capable paws, I could finally enjoy Dog Heaven to its fullest. I savored the rush of the wind in my ears every morning, allowing my legs to carry me farther and faster than they ever could in life.

I zoomed down a hill at a rabbit's pace, my paws galloping against the plush grass. The ground sprang up beneath each pounding step like a springboard, propelling me even faster. I had no destination in mind; I simply ran for the joy of running without restrictions.

A turn in my imaginary racetrack was coming up. With my ears flopping with my movements and my tongue slipping out the front of my open jaw, I prepared to lean and round the corner. As I pushed forward and to the side, my paws became tangled, sending me crashing to the ground.

I rolled to a stop and groaned in anticipation of the inevitable sore limbs, side, and chest, but it never came.

Oh, right... I'm dead.

There was no pain or stiffness in Dog Heaven, not even for a wipeout as big as mine.

I slowly rose to my paws. I was not injured, but the shock of losing my footing was enough to knock the wind out of me. A quick glance showed no other dogs around to witness my bruised ego.

The pads of my paws pressed into the grass and I trotted back the way I came from. I was still wandering aimlessly, but at a much slower pace, and allowed myself to follow my nose.

I traced the lingering scents of dogs who had already explored the area earlier in the day. There were the regular scents from others who often followed the same trails I did, but there was something else in there. Something familiar I could not quite place. I followed my nose until the grass beneath my paws turned into pavement. My nose had taken me to the Earth Observatory.

The scent strengthened, but my mind failed to connect it to anything recognizable. I walked towards the door, this time relying on my eyes as well as my nose.

The door swooshed open, hitting me with a rush of guilt for not visiting more. It had been months since I last visited.

I scanned the room to find the usual scene: a few dogs strewn about, most of them newly arrived within the last few months. But no one I knew.

A thoughtful breath huffed out my nostrils. Maybe my sniffer was losing its touch after so many years in Dog Heaven. I turned to leave, but as I approached the door, a shockingly familiar coat of black and white fur at the end of the room snagged my attention.

"What..." I trailed off and crept forward. Something between my nose and my mind clicked, and I knew how I recognized that smell. "What are you doing here?"

Stormy looked at me, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth like he'd just sprinted across the city. He was all grown up, but dead—Stormy was dead.

"Hey, Hugo!" His white-tipped tail swished across the floor.

I rushed towards him in a panic and repeated myself. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. Bay and I were on a walk when I smelled something interesting. I tried to follow it, but she pulled me back. But it was so... smelly, so I pulled until I slipped out of my harness, followed my nose, and now here I am."

I stared at Stormy in bewilderment.

"That's it?" I asked. "You just... followed your nose to your death?"

"Oh, no," Stormy said matter-of-factly. "There was a car."

"A car?" I yelped. "You were hit by a car! You reckless, stupid little—you left Bay behind!"

"What was I supposed to do? Someone left a cheeseburger out and I wanted it."

I could have torn his ears off at that moment. I wanted to, but the sight of Bay on the screen stopped me.

She sat in the passenger seat of a car, her cheeks puffy and water-stained. For the first time in a long time, I prepared to lick the water from her face but remembered I couldn't.

"It's not your fault. Bay." A man spoke from next to her: Zach.

Bay sniffled and her chin trembled. She kept her eyes down at the limp harness and leash in her hands. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

I flattened myself to the floor upon seeing Bay so distraught.

It was inevitable that Stormy would not be around forever. My plan had not failed. I had just never taken into account what would happen after he was gone. I certainly thought it would last longer than seven years.

Stormy followed my lead and rested his chin against the floor. We watched Bay together in silence. Zach drove her to his home, where his family waited for them. Bay was bombarded by two children upon her arrival. Zach's children—Bay's nephews—ran up to her as soon as she walked through the door.

"Not now, kids," Zach said, shooing the eight- and seven-year-old away. Bay stopped him.

"It's okay, Zach." She knelt to their level and accepted their hugs, burying her face into their shoulders to hide her tears from them.

I had only seen the kids a few times upon checking in on Bay and Stormy. From what I witnessed, Bay cared about them as much as she did about me and Stormy. They may not have been her children, but she treated them as such.

"Auntie Bay, can you play with us?" The older one asked. Bay sniffed and pulled away, but Zach answered for her.

"Aunt Bay is going to rest for a bit. She'll find you when she's ready."

The children ran off and Bay dragged herself to the couch where she curled into a ball of misery and silent crying.

I looked at Stormy, and he did the same. When our eyes met, we shared a mutual understanding: we had to do something.

Stormy turned to a window behind him. His ears perked up and his eyes glistened with a level of mischief that left me uneasy. I followed his gaze to a clear view of the trainee house.

"No," I said. "Absolutely not. I am not taking another one of Geronimo's recruits. She'll have my head!"

Stormy refused to tear his eyes away from the house he somewhat grew up in. "Maybe this time we ask permission."

— — —

"Are you two insane?" Geronimo stared at Stormy and me like we collectively had four heads. She seemed to speak exclusively to me, even though I had kept my mouth sealed shut since Stormy approached her with his brainless idea. "There is no way I'm letting you take another one of my recruits."

"Not one of your good ones," Stormy said, his wagging tail full of false hope. "Just someone we can send to Earth for Bay."

Geronimo glared at me and growled. "What kind of nonsense have you put in his head?"

"I haven't," I said, my stuttering voice finally unfreezing from its paralyzed state. "I swear this was all his idea."

I backed away from Geronimo and her allegations, wondering if she would believe me and what kind of trouble Stormy had just gotten me into.

"All we want is to bring her happiness again," Stormy said. "I am living proof—"

"Dead proof," I added.

"—that this can work. I made her happier after Hugo dumped me off in a thunderstorm." He may have been a naive kid without a thought behind his eyes, but he knew how to work over Geronimo.

The retriever huffed. "I'm not letting you send another soul to Earth like that again. But I'll make you a deal. You can have one of the low-performing recruits, except this time, you do it my way."

"And we can help train it?" I asked, my tail twitching in hope.

Geronimo growled at me, and only me. "You are not going anywhere near them. I will choose who you get, and they will go through the proper procedure for Earthbound puppies."

My ears perked up, despite Geronimo's bargain that sounded more like a threat.

Stormy, unaware of the threats made against me on the day he went Earthside, stood next to me in blissful ignorance. I figured his lack of situational awareness was due more to his dimwitted personality than anything else.

"Great!" He said, his tail wagging a hundred miles a minute.

"If either of you set one paw out of line, the deal's off. Got it?"

Stormy spun around in an excited circle, but I stood still, my tail as limp as ever.

I couldn't tell what I was more shocked about: Geronimo's reception to Stormy's proposal, or the fact that his convoluted plan actually worked. Either way, it didn't matter. We were going to get Bay a puppy again.