Good Boy…

Written by Bokei Thompson

        Esther stared into the depths of the husky’s eyes. His paws and her limbs were intertwined, fur and coats buffeting in the wind. Still, they lay in the soft embrace of each other, a sleepy aura radiating around them.

“Good boy, Alpine…” Esther breathed, a lazy smile bridging across her face. Compared to the snow and wind blustering around them, there was a kind of warmth lingering in between them. Esther began to gently stroke his grey and white fur.

Just then, there was a sharp ringing sound. The two were both aware that it meant their time outside was over. Letting out a disappointed sigh, Esther heaved herself up from the snow-blanketed ground.

Esther and Alpine spotted their cozy wood cabin through the thick fog and snow. On the porch, Esther could make out the weathered figure of her mother standing next to the large bronze bell hanging above the railing. Esther waved while Alpine barked, attempting to draw Esther’s mother’s attention. She soon turned to face the pair.

“Get over here! It’s time for lunch!” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Coming, Mom!” Esther called back, but she suspected that her voice might’ve been lost in the howling of the wind.

“C’mon, boy,” Esther cooed. He followed her to the cabin, trotting next to the brown-haired girl. In a matter of minutes, they were standing next to the wooden door. Esther reached out and twisted the silver doorknob, shoving it open. She stepped inside, kicking off her shoes with Alpine close behind. Esther yanked off her mittens as the wind slammed the door shut. The husky at her heels, Esther strode into the dining room where her lunch sat, still steaming. Her mouth watered at the sight. Alpine barked and jumped, the scent drifting into his acute nostrils. Examining it closely, Esther realized that it was a chicken and guacamole sandwich. She had never tried one, but it smelled good enough. Just as Esther reached out to take hold of the steaming bread, two large sets of paws pushed against her shoulder. Esther stumbled to the far wall, bracing herself against it. She managed a weak smile, looking at the husky, who promptly placed a lick on the twelve-year-old’s cheek. She chuckled, then pushed the large dog aside. Alpine dropped onto all fours and circled Esther’s feet as she absently rubbed the spot that his paws had dug into her skin. Walking back over to her lunch, Esther grabbed the top piece of bread in her sandwich and picked off one of the pieces of chicken, tossing it in Alpine’s bowl. He licked Esther’s leg affectionately, then trotted over to his bowl. As Esther wolfed the sandwich down, she couldn’t help but guiltily wonder what kinds of meals she would be eating if she had a different mother.

Lunch was over in a few minutes, and Esther bundled up again, shouting a quick goodbye to her mother and then exiting the house again. The Alaskan air hit Esther’s face like a bullet as they trudged through the freezing landscape. It wasn’t tedious, though; Esther tripped over hidden objects in the snow, and Alpine joined her as she toppled down snowbanks, got up, dusted herself off, and exploded into laughter. But soon, Alpine spotted a rabbit. He tensed up, his fierce gaze fixed on it.

“What is it, boy?” Esther said softly, following his gaze to the brown heap of fur crouched amidst the pearly white snow. “Oh,” she breathed, realizing that he was going to give chase to the poor rabbit. Alpine came from a breeder who sold hunting dogs, and although Esther’s family never intended to get a hunting dog, Alpine had caught Esther’s eye when she was only a toddler and they soon discovered how kind and lovable he was. But that didn’t change his blood; he was a natural born hunting dog. And sometimes that side of him would show, and Alpine would end up chasing anything smaller than he was. Before Esther could reach her hand out to stop him, Alpine launched from his position next to her and bounded through the snow. It was so sudden that he was already half-way to the rabbit when it finally took off. Esther followed, bounding through the thick winter blanket. On a dry, sunny day, it wouldn’t be too hard for Esther to keep up with Alpine. But through the thick snow, she stumbled, desperately attempting to catch up to the white-and-grey-dog. As they ran, Esther realized that the rabbit was bolting up the mountain.

“Never go up the mountain,” the firm voice of Esther’s mother rang clear in Esther’s head. But this was an emergency. Alpine had no concept of the mountain cliffs overladen with ice and snow. He probably didn’t even realize it was a mountain, blinded by the chase. But even through these thoughts, she wasn’t particularly worried. But that was before the shaking began.

At first, there was a soft rumble and Esther continued with the chase. But then Alpine stopped, ears pricked and tense like he was prior to chasing the rabbit. He cautiously picked a path between the scraggly bushes and rocks to stand beside her, viciously whipping his head back and forth. Then they both looked up in time to see a wave of rocks crashing down. Esther crouched down, petrified in fear. Alpine barked in surprise and tackled Esther, shoving her out of the way. Somehow, when she finally found the guts to open her eyes, both of them were still alive. They had survived the avalanche. Esther breathed a sigh of relief and they both collapsed on the ground, instinctively curling up in each other’s embrace. They were both breathing hard, but it was difficult to stay that way when they were in such a comfortable, familiar position. After all, they had been snuggling like this ever since Esther was adopted.