There was once a man named Mark. Mark was named after his now-dead uncle Mark. Mark lived in a small apartment in Boise, Idaho. Mark slept on a twin sized bed every other night, alternating between the bed and the green couch in front of his TV. In the morning Mark ate the same breakfast of fried potatoes every day, and at night Mark ate a meal at Joe’s Crab Shack. Mark didn’t eat lunch. Mark worked as a dishwasher for Joe’s Crab Shack. He made exactly $11.45 an hour. And at the end of the year Mark had made a total of $23,907.60, although he didn’t know that.
There was once a dog named Mark’s dog. Mark’s dog wasn’t named after anything. Mark’s dog lived in a small apartment in Boise, Idaho. Mark’s dog slept on the floor in front of a twin sized bed every third night, alternating between the bed, the floor in front of the green couch in front of Mark’s TV, and the hallway in between apartments. In the morning Mark’s dog ate the same breakfast of Sportmix Premium dog chow every day, and at night Mark’s dog ate the same. Mark’s dog didn’t eat lunch. Mark’s dog worked as a lifetime companion for Mark. Mark’s dog made exactly $0.00 an hour. And at the end of the year Mark’s dog had made a total of $0.00.
The special thing about Mark’s dog is that nobody knew his name, well, except for Mark and Mark’s dog that is. So aside from Mark, and his dog, no one knew Mark’s dog’s name. This was entirely Mark’s fault. Mark didn’t tell anybody his dog’s name, he didn’t tell anyone he had a dog, he didn’t tell anybody much of anything, really. Mark was alone, and nobody knew his dog’s name.
But why couldn’t Mark’s dog tell anyone his name? He knew it after all. Well for one thing, Mark’s dog found it very difficult to talk to the Mark-alikes on account of his being a dog and their … not being a dog. This isn’t to say that Mark’s dog didn’t try. Mark’s dog really liked his name and he wanted to tell as many of the Mark-alikes about it as he could. But every time he did, Mark threw him out into the hallway between apartments and told his dog to “shut up and stay that way.” These were the nights that Mark’s dog didn’t sleep next to Mark. Very quickly Mark’s dog learned that Mark didn’t want him to tell anyone his name. So, he didn’t. No one but Mark knew the name of Mark’s dog.
This fact would become important when Mark got cancer – bladder cancer. Very quickly Mark got very ill, and also very unemployed. This was a disaster for Mark. With no money coming and his bills continuing to arrive (the only thing the US postal service seems to be good for) Mark found he had to cut expenses. Mark’s dog had to go.
Mark’s dog didn’t understand what was happening of course. All he knew was that one-day Mark’s toilet started smelling funny (dogs can very accurately identify the urine of victims suffering from bladder cancer) and that after a while Mark started spending more time with him. As far as Mark’s dog was concerned, his job as Mark’s lifetime companion just got easier.
But then Mark’s dog got fired. The day started off very exciting for Mark’s dog, he got to participate in a rare car-ride with Mark in his 2002 Toyota Camry, dark green. Mark’s dog loved car rides because it always meant a full day spent with Mark. In fact, he loved riding with Mark so much that he often didn’t even pay attention to where they were going. He would just stare at Mark, stopping occasionally only when Mark would turn to him and yell, “Stop breathing at me!”
But this car ride seemed to be different, it went on longer than usual. The tall buildings where the Mark-alikes worked quickly changed to row after row of the same – or very nearly the same – house, which themselves soon enough changed to row after row of the same – or very nearly the same – cornfield. And eventually even those gave way to a pure view of the mountains, those tall pillars of stone which looked a lot like the tall structures where the Mark-alikes worked, but where strangely, none did.
Mark’s dog was pondering why the Mark-alikes chose to live inside of some stone pillars but not others when the car stopped. Mark’s dog got very excited by this, as he always did, and as soon as Mark opened the passenger door to let out Mark’s dog, he immediately jumped out. But weirdly – to Mark’s dog at least, certainly not to us – Mark then got back into the car, cast a sad look at Mark’s dog through the side-view mirror, then drove away as fast as he could; faster than Mark’s dog could run. And believe me, he did run.
—
I don’t care to describe to you what the dog (for he was Mark’s dog no longer) felt in that moment, neither his initial confusion, nor the cold horror that flowed through his veins once he realized what it all meant. I don’t care to describe the immense betrayal that the dog felt, having been abandoned by the one who he loved most – and who should’ve loved him. I don’t care to describe the following hours, days, and weeks, spent by the dog staring at the mountain looming over him, spent in constant fear that tonight might be the night that the howls he heard from above would come for him; kill him. I don’t want to describe his diet, which consisted entirely of a single run-over rabbit and tarmac-tainted rainwater … And I don’t want to continue this depressive thought any longer, so just know that for the three and a half weeks that the dog was out there, alone, there would have existed no sight more deserving of pity on the whole of the Earth.
So now I will skip to the day of rediscovered happiness, as the dog would later call it, the day when the 2012 Ford F-150, light blue, came barreling down the road. The driver of this truck, whose name was John, was running very late to a very important meeting in Boise, Idaho when he almost ran over the dog. But, thankfully, he didn’t; and instead, he slammed on the breaks with the only thought running through his mind being: God, please tell me I didn’t run over that dog. Please, please, please, please… And he kept repeating this to himself as he, already cringing, opened his door and stepped out onto that deserted road. When he peered around the front of his car, John, much to his relief, found not a dead dog but a living one. Though the dog at this point looked half dead.
John then went down on one knee and asked the dog, “Well, don’t you look a mess? Tell me, what’s your name little fella?” The dog didn’t know what to make of this Mark-alike at first, but, at the mention of the dog’s name, he perked up. Mark didn’t want him to tell anyone his name. Mark had abandoned him. The dog decided he was going to tell John his name.
And so, the dog, easing from his crouching position to stand upright, with his head held high in the air, breathed in a deep breathe through his nose and howled his name. The dog was proud of his name, the only thing Mark had left him, and he howled it into the mountains. A defiant shout in the face of everything that had tormented him for the past month. A scream against the constant fear he had known. His voice shook the trees with its ferocity. The Earth itself trembled.
And then the dog grew quiet, and everything was still; John was taken aback, and he found that he couldn’t move. For a long moment, nothing happened, silence reigned, and all there was in the whole universe was a connection between a dog and a man as they stared into each other’s eyes, one defiant, one scared. And that moment held.
…
And then, with a roar, the mountain, which had cast its shadow over the dog for so long, howled back.
And then the coyotes, who had made the dog fear for his life night after sleepless night, howled back.
And then the dog, who had felt Love be torn away from him by selfishness and greed howled back.
And only one word was heard.
Eyebright.
—
After that John, following his unsuccessful attempt at trying to find Eyebright’s owner, and after missing his very important meeting, and after apologizing to his boss for missing his very important meeting, decided to take Eyebright home with him. Eyebright was happy to go, this John guy seemed swell enough, and eating a proper meal (with real lamb!) sure did beat roadkill.
So it was that Eyebright moved to the Texas prairieland with John and lived on his 10-acre plot of land, where he had the freedom to explore all day if he wanted. Though, most days Eyebright decided to simply stay next to John as he worked from home. And when John was away on a business trip Eyebright spent his time guarding John’s wife and three young children. The whole family adored Eyebright. Even if they did wonder how John came up with that name. (John would never tell anybody about him hearing Eyebright speak to him that one day in the mountains, as far as he was concerned that was between him and the dog.)
And that’s how it was for a few years. That is, until John’s celebrated his 50th birthday and Eyebright recognized a distinct odor following John outside of the bathroom. It was the same odor that Eyebright smelled in the weeks leading up to Mark’s betrayal. He didn’t know it, but John had early onset bladder cancer.
For the following weeks Eyebright was terrified that John would leave him, and so he stayed next to John incessantly and, if he ever had to leave, once he came back Eyebright would run to him and jump on him, kissing him and not stopping until being appeased.
The whole family simply thought of this as some funny behavior by Eyebright, except for Martha who first noticed how distressed Eyebright’s eyes looked whenever John left. It was her idea to call over John’s doctor friend, Frank.
Frank, after hearing about Eyebright’s behavior got very concerned. He had just read an article on how dogs can very accurately identify the urine of victims suffering from bladder cancer. So Frank came over to take a look at John, becoming more convinced after seeing Eyebright’s reaction first hand, and implored John to get it looked at in a hospital.
John was playfully dismissive at first saying, “Me? Get cancer? Why, I hardly ever see the sun!” But after seeing the seriousness in Martha’s and Frank’s faces, he relented.
In the end, the cancer was found and, thanks to the early warning, quickly cured. John would spend the rest of his life praising Eyebright saying, “I saved his life, and he saved mine!” before engulfing Eyebright in a big hug and patting him all over. Eyebright was just happy the strange smell went away.
But, as John entered his 60’s and his kids left for college, Eyebright got ill. Very ill. As Eyebright was on his deathbed, having lived to 17 – 3 years with Mark, 1 month alone, and 14 years with John – John stayed next to him through his final moments. And all there was in the whole universe was a connection between a dog and a man as they stared into each other’s eyes, one loving, one scared. And that moment held.
But eventually, Eyebright’s eyes began to fail. And as Eyebright finally closed his eyes John whispered, “I love you, buddy.” To which Eyebright responded, I love you too. Then died.