The Miraculous Second Life of Blue Eyes

It was exactly one year, three Of Mice and Men, two Motionless in White, one Neck Deep concerts, and a crazy night with All Time Low later that I got my first dog.

Actually, it was a puppy.

I walked into the shop, looking around with tired eyes. The depression had gotten worse, the flashbacks to my dad beating me seemed more life-like. I was so numb that some days I couldn’t get out of bed without feeling dizzy.

So I thought a new friend in my life would be helpful.

“Hello, Miss. Did you want to play with one of the puppies?” The man behind the counter asked. I looked up at him, taking a moment to process his words. I smiled weakly.

“Please.” I responded simply before continuing my gaze down to the little runs of all sorts of breeds. The dogs were no bigger than my head and their wide eyes so innocent it hurt my heart. Little brown orbs of uncontained joy filled my vision and I felt lighter, if only for a moment.

The counter clerk came to stand next to me. “Which breed?”

I stared down before my sights landed on him.

“The little pudgy one in the corner. The pug.” I pointed. The man bent over the snoozing dog who looked up lazily as a pair of huge hands descended on the indifferent puppy.

“Oh, you mean Ugly? He’s pretty lazily and not too bright.” The clerk warned me. I scowled slightly before taking the dog out of his hands and marching back to the area where it was a designated “play place” for puppies. The clerk said nothing, just grumbling about rude customers or another. I sat down in the chair and held the little puppy on my lap.

His light colored fur reminded me of the tan carpets in my old home. His little wrinkled face was sleepy but curious. The little wrinkles over his eyes made him seem alive with expression. Two brown orbs blinked up at me.

“So they call you Ugly, huh? You’re not too bad. They’re the ugly ones.” I grumbled, stroking his soft hair. I fiddled with his silky ears. I loved pugs. Their ears are so soft and smooth and their tails remind me of pigs, but all are different.

Each pug has a unique tail. Just go look at them. Some have tightly wound curls that are constantly in a fervor of tension and when those pugs are happy, their entire butt wiggles instead of just their tail. Some pugs have looser tails that wiggle independently of their butt. Others have very loose tails that barely looked curled at all, but it still lays on their back.

Each pug is different, each unique. People see them as ugly and call them such. I see a cuteness underneath their wrinkled appearance.

Ugly sneezed on me before wiggling to be put down. He was now fully awoken from his nap and wanted to play. I set him down on the floor where he immediately looked up at me, as if asking to play. I took a tiny little play toy and made him chase it around, laughing at his antics.

I tossed a tiny ball towards the corner, where he tanked over to bright orange toy and bowled over it, spinning around and attempting to catch it. I chuckled.

“Well aren’t you a little tank.” I laughed and tickled the little rolls of pug baby fat. The loyal pug dropped the toy at my feet and let out a dignified bark. What fun it would be to live as a dog. You sleep all day, run around when it’s sunny, and then you get lots of attention from your owners. What a wonderful life.

I looked up when the clerk boy cleared his throat. I picked up the dog and stood up, the dog looking at me and wiggling his little butt. He had one of those slightly loose tails that lay flat on his back, not upright like the tightly wound ones, but his butt still wiggled as he barked.

“So did you want to play with another dog or is Ugly good enough for you?” He asked casually, as if he suspected the answer of me telling him, ‘oh, this dog is too ugly for me. Take him back, please.’

I put on my most serious expression as I brushed past him to the counter, snatching a little leash along the way. “I enjoy this pug, thank you very much, and his name is not Ugly, it’s Tank.”

The clerk didn’t say another word as I threw my money on the counter, signed my name on the adoption papers, and walked out with my pug in hand.

Days later…

Tank proved to be a very useful companion, especially when it came to locating squirrels sitting on the apartment’s back porch railing. The apartment complex had no problem with pets as long as they were house trained.

Tank took to the house training well. Although very lazy and rarely ever wanting to do anything outside of napping and sitting on my lap while I edited photos, he was easy to house train, perhaps because he was so young.

Tank yipped just before there was a knock at the door. Slowly, I stood up. I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors at this moment, but possibly it was one of my neighbors asking to borrow something. I didn’t have very youthful neighbors because most of them were in their fifties or sixties.

Tank trailed me to the door and I was forced to pick him up so he wouldn’t bolt as I looked through the peephole before opening the door. A lanky, tall, and heavily tattooed man stood in front of me, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Hey Jules.”

“Hey Austin.” I grinned, letting him in. His eyes widened as he saw the squirming puppy under my arm. I let Tank down, who immediately jumped on the tall screamer. Tank didn’t get far up his leg since he was so tiny. Austin plopped down on the floor as Tank crawled into his lap, scratching at his shirt.

“Oh Tank, down!” I commanded, but like a young child, Tank refused to listen. Austin just laughed and scratched the pug’s head.

“He’s fine, he’s fine. His name is Tank?” Austin asked. I nodded as I went towards the kitchen, searching the scare fridge for food to offer him. I should really go grocery shopping, but I just spent my last little reserve of money on a dog, so I was out of options. I needed a day job or another concert to shoot.

“Yeah. He’s about three months old. I got him a couple days ago. He’s pretty smart, mostly housetrained, or at least he’s getting the hang of it.” I shrugged. Looking over the counter, I saw the screamer gently tugging a chew toy with the puppy, who growled viciously.

I smiled, a genuine smile. Austin grinned, staring up at me before I ducked away.

“Sorry I don’t have much food, but I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors.” I apologized. Austin’s face fell for a moment before hurriedly saying, “I’m so sorry! Did I interrupt something?” He apologized. I shook my head profusely.

“No, no, don’t worry! I’m pretty free today, actually. All I’ve been doing is hanging around with Tank and watching TV. I didn’t know you were in town.” I gestured as I looked around in my cabinets. Still not much food besides some crackers and frozen breakfast burritos.

“We had a day off of tour. I was talking to Adam and he told me where you lived, sorry about stalking you.” He mumbled an apology. I chuckled.

“You’re fine, you’re fine. I’m actually happy to have some company, to be honest.”

“Well that’s good. I figured that you needed someone to hang out with.” He picked up Tank, snuggling him into his chest. Tank sneezed onto his shoulder, causing the man to make a rumbling chuckle. I stared at him for a moment.

“Who told you that I needed someone to hang out with?” I asked curiously, slightly strained. He looked up, casually replying, “You’re like my little sister, Jules. I know you, dude! We’ve known each other for a while and we’ve hung out. You were even at our bus party!” He smiled.

Of course, that bus party, the one that I had gone to, even though it was the anniversary of the Accident. The party where I had hung in the corner, escaping everyone, hiding the tears, hiding the secrets.

Oh, what fun that was.

“Oh yeah, that was a blast!” I lied easily. Austin grinned in acknowledgement.

“Awww…who’s a handsome boy?” Austin cooed to my dog. I looked down. He trusted me so easily, so freely. He cared about me even though he didn’t know all those hidden facets that I kept neatly tucked away, like a thief hiding his stash.

I wish I could tell him that I was a murderer, but I couldn’t.

I bent over the counter, feeling the dizziness and sadness come rushing back to me. I bit my lip. I’m a murderer, and I know it. How can I live with myself? How can I live knowing what I’ve become? How do I live with the fact that I killed my own mother?

“You okay?” Austin asked, coming up next to me. I looked up, nodding and smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, just some nausea.” I excused. Austin looked worried, but patted my back soothingly.

“You have really pretty eyes, did you know that?” He asked suddenly. I blushed a little and added a fake giggle for extra measure.

“Thanks, but I’m too young for you, Carlile.”

It was his turn to blush.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that! I just wanted to tell you that your blue eyes are like really blue right now! Sorry, I didn’t mean…” He trailed off. I punched his shoulder weakly.

“I’m teasing, Austin.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, okay.”

There was silence, only interrupted by Tank’s little nails clicking on the tile as he walked to the kitchen, begging for food. I fed him a few pieces of kibble out of my hand as his tail wagged happily. Austin stroked his back. It was a serene moment.

“You know who likes pugs?” Austin asked suddenly. I looked up.

“Who?”

“Ricky Horror.”

“No way!” I chuckled in surprise. I would’ve thought that a tough guy like Ricky would’ve preferred pit bulls to pugs.

“Yep! He adores pugs. You should totally bring Tank on tour next summer when we go on Warped! Wait, you are going, right?” Austin paused. I looked at him.

Would I really make it until then?

“Yeah, as far as I know, I will be.” I grinned and bear it for the moment. It was worth it to see him happy. If I was like his little sister, then he really was like my older brother; and I liked seeing him be a happy, if only for a little.

“Good. I want Tank to be our mascot next year.”

And so I nodded and accepted what he said without paying attention at all.

Notes

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