The dog learned to heed his master’s whistle and to return with haste, no matter how far he’d run or what scents beckoned him to explore. The faster he returned, the more likely he was to be rewarded with this bit of gentle stroking. The few nights that scents had held the dog’s attention too long and he’d not heeded the man’s whistle, he’d been greeted on return with a swift kick in the haunches instead.

His master’s visits had become less and less predictable, stretching back to when the days were the longest in the year and the scorching heat was nearly intolerable. Some nights, he wouldn’t come at all. Others, he wouldn’t open the pen to let the dog run free while he filled his bowls with food and water.

Then, as winter ended and before the rains came, his master stopped coming altogether. The dog’s hunger had become so immense, surely he would’ve succumbed to it had he not had been lucky at catching a squirrel and then later a large bird who’d come in to scavenge on remains of kibble that was no longer there.

When the rains came, he preyed on a few small frogs and bitter-tasting moths. When the river had first swept into his pen, the dog drank and drank until his belly hurt. He waited and waited, but his master didn’t come.

And now his pen had been swallowed by the earth and this docile stranger was offering him a heaping mound of kibble.

The dog crept forward, lulled by the kibble and the gentleness in the man’s tone. The man had tossed a piece or two of it in his direction. He swept them up with his tongue. His mouth watered as the meaty, salty kibble disintegrated over his tongue and ignited a fresh fire across his taste buds. His empty stomach knotted in anticipation. More, more, the dog wanted more.

He crept forward and sank onto his haunches as he reached the bowl. He dipped his head and tried to gulp the food in the same way he gulped in air after an exhausting run, only the individual pieces lodged in the back of his throat, and he coughed and choked and needed to try again.

He was eating just slow enough not to choke again when he realized the man was kneeling beside him, stroking the length of his body the same gentle way his master had stroked his ear. The dog wagged his tail but didn’t lose a beat in consuming this unexpected meal. Before his hunger was satiated, the man clipped something onto his collar and the woman slipped the bowl of food from his reach.

The dog whined for it, but the man patted him reassuringly. “Easy, boy, easy. Thin as you are, we don’t want to end up shocking your system.”