Until My Last Treat

Chapter 3 – I Finally Learned My Human's Name

Rocco's Point of View

The next morning, I woke before the sun.

The city was still stretching awake.

Store owners rolled up their metal shutters with loud clanging sounds. Jeepneys rumbled down the streets, leaving behind thick clouds of smoke that made my nose twitch. Vendors arranged vegetables in neat rows while the smell of freshly cooked pandesal floated through the cool morning air.

I stood where my human and I had parted ways the night before.

He had pointed toward a narrow street lined with old apartment buildings.

"You can't come any farther, buddy."

He had scratched behind my ears before walking through a rusty blue gate.

I waited outside until the lights inside the building slowly turned off, one by one.

Eventually, a guard spotted me.

"Hey! Shoo!"

I ran before he could throw the rolled newspaper in his hand.

Even while running, I kept looking back.

I wanted to make sure my human was still inside.

For some reason...

Knowing where he slept made me feel less alone.

The morning became busy.

Humans hurried past carrying bags and coffee cups.

Children laughed while wearing colorful school uniforms.

Motorcycles squeezed between jeepneys that looked too full to carry even one more person.

I searched for breakfast.

Nothing.

I checked behind the bakery.

Empty.

Near the market.

Nothing.

Even the old woman who sometimes dropped fish bones wasn't there.

By noon, my stomach was making loud noises again.

I drank rainwater collected in a small pothole and lay beneath a tree to rest.

But I couldn't sleep.

Every strange smell reminded me of him.

Coffee.

Laundry soap.

Old leather.

Even fried chicken made me remember the warm smile he wore while giving me his dinner.

Humans usually forgot stray dogs.

Would he forget me too?

The afternoon passed slowly.

I found a small piece of bread beside a trash bin.

It was hard and stale, but it was enough to stop the hunger from hurting.

As the sun began to disappear, my paws started walking before I even thought about where I was going.

Back to the cracked wall.

Back to the place where we first met.

Back to him.

I told myself I was only curious.

Dogs can lie to themselves sometimes.

I was waiting.

The crowd of office workers slowly filled the sidewalks.

Hundreds of familiar smells mixed together.

Perfume.

Ink.

Sweat.

Paper.

Exhaustion.

My nose searched through every one of them.

Not him.

Not him.

Not him.

Then...

There it was.

Coffee.

Rain.

Old backpack.

Laundry soap.

And the faint smell of instant noodles.

My ears stood up.

He was coming.

"There you are!"

His voice carried over the evening noise.

I ran toward him before I realized what I was doing.

My tail wagged so hard my whole body wiggled.

He laughed.

"I knew you'd be here."

He knelt down, letting me bury my nose against his hand.

His scent was stronger today.

He smelled more tired.

There was also something sharp.

Medicine.

I didn't know what it was then.

I only knew it didn't belong.

"You've been waiting all day, haven't you?"

He smiled sadly.

"I wish someone waited for me like this."

I tilted my head.

Someone did.

Me.

Always.

Instead of opening a plastic bag immediately, he reached into his backpack.

He pulled out a small blue bottle.

Water.

He drank slowly, leaving only a little at the bottom.

Then he poured the rest into the bottle cap and placed it in front of me.

"Here."

I lapped it up happily.

"You should stay hydrated too."

Again...

He gave me the last of what he had.

Only after I finished drinking did he open his dinner.

Two pieces of siopao.

One apple.

He split everything exactly in half.

Not almost half.

Exactly half.

One for him.

One for me.

We ate together beneath the streetlight.

Cars rushed past, horns echoed through the evening, and people hurried home without noticing the office worker sharing his dinner with a stray dog.

"You know..."

he said between bites.

"My coworkers think I'm weird."

I looked up.

"They ask why I never join them for dinner."

He smiled to himself.

"If I spend two hundred pesos eating out every night..."

He counted quietly on his fingers.

"...that's four thousand pesos a month."

He laughed softly.

"Four thousand can pay my electricity."

He shrugged.

"So... instant noodles at home it is."

I didn't understand pesos.

Or electricity.

But I understood sacrifice.

Because every time he talked...

He gave me another bite.

When dinner was over, he reached into his backpack once more.

This time...

He pulled out a tiny red ball.

It wasn't new.

The rubber had scratches all over it.

"I found this in the office lost-and-found box."

He smiled.

"No one claimed it."

He bounced it gently.

It rolled toward me.

I sniffed it.

Then nudged it with my nose.

It rolled back.

He laughed.

A real laugh.

The kind that made his tired eyes shine again.

For almost thirty minutes...

We played.

He threw the little ball.

I chased it.

Sometimes I slipped on the wet pavement.

Sometimes I proudly carried it back.

Each time I did...

He smiled wider.

People walking past stared at us.

Some smiled.

Others shook their heads.

One elderly woman stopped.

"Is he your dog?" she asked.

My human looked at me.

Then smiled.

"I wish he was."

The old woman smiled warmly.

"He already acts like he is."

She walked away before either of us could answer.

My human looked at me again.

"So..."

He scratched my neck.

"What do you think?"

"Would you like that?"

I wagged my tail so hard I almost fell over.

He laughed again.

"I'll take that as a yes."

The night grew darker.

Streetlights reflected on the wet pavement.

My human checked the time on his old wristwatch.

"Oh no..."

"I'm late."

He stood quickly.

"My landlord doesn't like it when we come home after ten."

Landlord.

Another strange human word.

He started walking.

I followed.

This time...

He didn't tell me to stop.

We walked through quiet streets lined with small apartments.

Many windows glowed with warm yellow light.

Families were eating dinner.

Children watched television.

Someone played an old love song from a radio.

It all smelled...

Comfortable.

Finally, we reached the rusty blue gate.

He sighed.

"This is me."

I looked through the gate.

A small three-story apartment building stood inside.

Old.

Simple.

Paint peeling from the walls.

But one window on the second floor had a tiny plant sitting beside it.

He noticed me staring.

"My room's up there."

He pointed toward the little window.

"It's small."

He laughed.

"Really small."

He crouched beside me one last time.

"Oh..."

"I almost forgot."

He gently rubbed my head.

"My name's Ryan."

Ryan.

I didn't understand names.

But I remembered sounds.

Ryan.

He smiled.

"And until I can think of a proper name for you..."

He chuckled.

"I guess I'll just keep calling you Buddy."

Buddy.

Ryan.

Those were the first human words that truly meant something to me.

As he disappeared through the gate, I lay down across the street where I could still see the light from his window.

I watched until it turned off.

Only then did I close my eyes.

Because now...

My human wasn't just a kind stranger anymore.

He had a name.

Ryan.

And somehow...

Knowing his name made the whole city feel a little smaller.

A little warmer.

And for the first time since I had been alone...

I found myself looking forward to tomorrow.