Chapter 2: Search for Food

A sliver of a sun beam shone across the face of the dog.  As the dog stirred awake he quickly realized he was alone.  The goats had gone to pasture.  The dog began to stretch, but pain ripped through his hind leg from last nights injury.     He rose awkwardly on three legs and hobbled over to the water bowl.  He lapped as the water refreshed him.

The dog knew a human would likely come in to clean the goat's shelter.  The smell of urine was strong.  So the dog knew he would have to find another place to hide during the day.   He limped out of the small cave and along the rock face wall.  He returned to the small hole in the fence wall and slipped through back into the alley.

Hugging the shadows,  he worked his way towards the street.  There were so many new scents and sounds, indicating that even more people had come into town overnight.  As he glimpsed at the street from the shadows of the alley he saw the small town was bustling with "out of towners".  He had never seen the town like this, never in his young 18 month life.  But people mean trash and trash means food, so he was encouraged.  However he also knew that people did not like dogs, except for herding dogs who worked hard to maintain their low status in a human pack. The dog would have to maintain his distance while searching for food.

There was no break in the foot traffic in the town street.  People of all kinds were walking the streets, most on foot, some on the backs of donkeys, and a few others in carts pulled my thin horses.   There was no way he could cross this street in the daylight with all these humans.  He had learned that the hard way.  The dog  sniffed and licked at last nights injury.   He sniffed the air.  He could smell breads baking and he began to drool.

The scent wafted in the current, swirling around the dog, enticing him from the alley.  At the corner of the alley and the stone house was a pile of baskets that he was able to slip behind.  He worked his way, limping, hiding behind baskets, clay jars, and tables following the scent of baking bread towards its source.

After a slow navigation,  the dog emerged from under the last table.  He was very close to the source of the smell.   He hoped maybe someone would drop a piece of bread, or carelessly toss an half eaten piece onto the street near him.  He waited for a few hours.  Many people came and went, but no pieces of bread fell.  He would try to go around the building into the alley and behind the building.  Perhaps there would be trash, burned bread or other some wonderful meal.

As the dog left the safety of the table to cross the doorway and dart into the alley, a man emerged from the doorway next to the table.  The man yelled at the dog and tried to kick him.  Luckily the man missed as the dog scurried back under the table.   The man continued to yell and the dog pressed against the wall of the building.  A stick poked under the table trying to find the dog but the dog's luck continued to hold as the man missed a harsh blow.  Just as the man was about to strike again, another man approached.  The two men began to talk and then began to walk away.   The dog with no name shuddered and curled up under that table.  He began to lick at his wounds, to soothe himself the way his mother would when he was a tiny pup.