Chapter 2 – The Place That Smelled Like Home
1073 Words
Rocco's Point of View
The piece of chicken disappeared in only a few bites.
I tried to eat slowly.
I really did.
But my stomach had waited too long.
By the time I looked up, only a few grains of rice remained on the wet pavement. I quickly licked them clean before the rain could wash them away.
The man chuckled.
"You must've been really hungry."
I tilted my head.
His voice was different from the others.
Most humans spoke loudly, like they were always in a hurry. But his voice moved slowly, gently, as if he was afraid of frightening me.
He opened his own meal.
There wasn't much left.
A small piece of fried chicken.
Some rice.
Half a bread roll.
I watched him carefully.
He took one bite...
Then stopped.
Instead of eating again, he looked at me.
"You still hungry?"
My tail betrayed me.
It wagged before I could stop it.
He laughed softly.
"Yeah... I figured."
Without hesitation, he tore the last piece of chicken in half.
Then he frowned.
"No..."
He smiled to himself.
"You can have it."
He placed the entire piece in front of me.
My ears stood up.
What about him?
Didn't he need dinner too?
He simply picked up the bread roll and quietly ate it while watching the rain.
I didn't understand humans.
If I found food, I ate it.
If another dog was hungry, we usually fought over it.
But this human...
He was hungry too.
I could smell it.
Yet somehow...
He looked happier watching me eat than eating himself.
When I finished, I walked closer.
Very slowly.
Close enough to smell him clearly.
His clothes smelled like paper, coffee, old air-conditioning, bus seats, dust, and rain.
But underneath all those smells...
There was kindness.
He carefully reached out his hand.
His fingers stopped just a few inches from my head.
"Can I?"
I didn't know what he meant.
But his eyes asked permission.
No human had ever done that before.
I leaned forward.
His fingers gently touched the top of my head.
Warm.
Careful.
Soft.
He scratched behind my ears.
Without realizing it, I closed my eyes.
It felt...
Safe.
Safer than hiding under trucks.
Safer than sleeping behind garbage bins.
Safer than anything I could remember.
"So this is what dog fur feels like," he whispered.
"I've always wanted one."
Wanted...
One?
His smile slowly faded.
"But my apartment doesn't allow pets."
Apartment.
Another human word I didn't understand.
He sighed.
"And even if they did..."
He looked at his wallet again.
"I can barely afford myself."
He laughed after saying it.
Not because it was funny.
Because sometimes laughing hurts less than crying.
The rain finally became lighter.
He stood up, lifted his backpack, and stretched his sore shoulders.
"I should get going."
He looked at me.
"You'll be okay?"
I stared back.
He smiled.
"I guess that's a silly question."
He turned around and began walking.
I watched him disappear into the darkness.
His footsteps grew quieter.
Step...
Step...
Step...
Something inside me felt strange.
Every other human who had ever left...
Stayed gone.
I lowered my head.
Maybe tomorrow I would never see him again.
That's how life worked.
People came.
People left.
Dogs learned not to expect anyone to return.
I curled beneath the wall again.
But something was different.
The place where he had scratched behind my ears still felt warm.
I slept better than I had in months.
The next morning, sunlight woke me before the city did.
The streets slowly filled with familiar smells.
Fresh bread.
Coffee.
Gasoline.
Morning dew.
Workers hurrying to catch buses.
I wandered through my usual places searching for breakfast.
Nothing.
By noon, my stomach was empty again.
The afternoon felt longer than usual.
Without thinking...
My paws carried me back to the cracked wall.
I told myself I was only resting.
Not waiting.
Definitely not waiting.
Hours passed.
The sky slowly turned orange.
Office workers began pouring from nearby buildings.
Hundreds of them.
Each one smelling almost the same.
Paper.
Coffee.
Computers.
Exhaustion.
I sniffed every passing stranger.
Not him.
Not him.
Not him.
The crowd became smaller.
The sun disappeared.
Streetlights flickered to life.
Maybe...
He wasn't coming.
I lowered my head.
Just as I stood to leave...
A familiar scent drifted through the evening air.
Coffee.
Rain.
Old leather.
Laundry soap.
And that quiet sadness.
My ears stood straight.
I looked toward the corner.
There he was.
Walking slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up.
His tie hung loosely around his collar.
He looked even more tired than yesterday.
Then he saw me.
His eyes widened.
"You waited?"
My tail answered before I could.
It wagged so hard my whole body moved with it.
His smile grew wider than it had been the night before.
"I can't believe you actually waited."
He walked over and sat on the curb.
This time, the plastic bag contained two steamed buns and a small pack of hotdogs.
He opened one bun.
Broke it in half.
Gave me the larger piece.
Again.
"You're lucky you're cute."
I happily devoured it.
He laughed.
"You know..."
He spoke while eating.
"I work on the eighth floor."
I tilted my head.
"I stare at spreadsheets all day."
More strange human words.
"My boss thinks people are machines."
He sighed.
"Today we worked three hours overtime."
He stretched his stiff shoulders.
"No overtime pay."
Another sigh.
"But what can you do?"
I didn't understand any of it.
To me...
He disappeared every morning.
Then came back every evening smelling more tired than before.
Whatever happened inside those giant buildings...
It must have been very difficult.
After dinner, he rubbed my head again.
"You shouldn't be out here."
He looked around the empty street.
"It's dangerous."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he stood.
He took a few steps.
Stopped.
Turned around.
"C'mon."
He smiled.
"Walk with me."
I didn't know where we were going.
But I trusted his voice.
For the first time in my life...
I walked beside someone instead of behind them.
The city suddenly felt less lonely.
As we disappeared into the glowing streets together, I still didn't know his name.
But deep inside my heart...
I had already decided something.
If this human came back tomorrow...
I'd be waiting.
Every single day.
For as long as he would keep coming home.
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