Dog Boy Read Online Free PDF Page A

a time,’ he said. He felt the other puppies behind stop at the sound of words. He cheered up. ‘Once upon a time there were some dogs. Very good dogs who always brushed their teeth.’ He giggled. He couldn’t think for a moment what to say next.
    ‘One was the best, one was the worst, one was the bravest and one was the scaredest.’ He was very pleased with the words falling into that dark space, pleased with how much words were changing everything. But just then the puppies behind lost interest. White Sister tried to pay attention, but Grey Brother trotted off and found something alive under a beam. Brown Brother was pulling at Romochka’s clothes, and Black Sister, head held high, was making off with the blanket. White Sister held still for a moment longer, then leapt off his lap and scampered away.
    ‘Stupid dogs!’ he shouted, but words had lost their spell.
     
    Snow fell more frequently and stayed on the ground above rather than melting on contact. Romochka had not thought to leave the lair in the weeks he had been there, even to see the day. But he didn’t like peeing inside, although the puppies did all the time. Even he could tell that his pee was smellier than theirs. One night he scrambled up to the icy upper floor and peed in the corner furthest from the lair entrance. Golden Bitch watched him in consternation from her sentry point, but didn’t move to stop him. Mamochka and Black Dog followed and stood beside him. It was freezing cold up in the ruin; dark, but not pleasantly so. The touch of icy wind was unfamiliar and he was rattled by the darkness over the uninhabited waste lands and the lights of the city. He scuttled back to the hole with the dogs following. This became his ritual. Mamochka often smelled his pee spot thoughtfully and then guided him, with nips, back to the lair. He could tell that his pee worried them. Poo Mamochka ate. At first he thought this was funny, but she ate his poo and the puppies’ poo, and soon he didn’t notice.
    He knew when the dogs were pleased. He could feel it and see it in the way they used their bodies. Their joyous wriggle and the smile of a sweeping tail were an immediately comprehensible body of happiness. Mamochka’s contented sighs in their bed filled him, too, with bliss. He knew when someone was annoyed, because they bit him. He learned teeth: the friendliness of a gesture that held teeth low and unthreatening, and slowly all the gradations from bared-teeth threat, lip-veiled threat, and teeth set aside or used for play. He found himself quickly fitting in with teeth serious and teeth playful, reading easily the bodies around him with eyes, fingers, nose and tongue.
    Everything was ritual. He began to emulate the greeting, in which every absence was healed. He made his body joyous too, his head low, mouth small; he yelped in delight and licked the mouth corners of the elder dogs as they entered. The greeting was also the moment of all confessions. Body joyous or body contrite, pure of spirit, or guilt-ridden, waiting for punishment. The dogs all confessed truthfully to each other at first meeting, crawling low, with face averted, then rolling over to take whatever punishment was theirs. Usually their abasement was enough. If the puppies had exceeded their boundaries, or eaten Golden Bitch’s bones, or ripped up the bed and spread it around, they told on themselves as soon as an adult entered.
    Romochka could not bring himself to do the same. He lied, body joyous, and both Black Dog and Golden Bitch were bewildered and disturbed. They bit him less and less. Mamochka still punished him, making him roll over onto his back when she discovered his smell outside the lair or in the destroyed nest.
     
    One evening it snowed on and on into the night and then, when the late day came, everything was changed, muted. The light inside the lair had dimmed: the parts of the floor above that were exposed to the sky were covered.
    Romochka felt one of the big dogs