at the far end of the pipe. Hearing dad’s steps and slightly hoarse breathing, Suri and the brothers immediately jumped up and ran to meet him. Squealing, they circled their father and jumped up, trying to lick him on the nose or cheek but instead fell on their backs and offered their pink tummies to dad’s wet nose. Dad sniffed and licked everyone, then tilted his head and lifted something off the floor. It was a large bone with leftover meat.
“Fresh food!” Suri squealed happily, and all the puppies rushed to the treat. They began to sniff, touch with their paws and, of course, try to gnaw on the long-awaited adult food.
“Fo wummy!” Suri’s mouth was full, and speaking with a busy mouth is, as you know, most uncomfortable, not to say difficult. Therefore, Suri decided to save all her surprise and gratitude for later. Moreover, the tussle for the best place near the bone and the most delicious pieces was serious! The puppies snarled at each other, snorted and waved their paws, all in the name of protecting their spot.
Suri was so carried away by gnawing at her prey that she did not notice dad drawing his eyebrows into a frown and mom’s slightly worried look.
“They grow up so fast – they’ll need more food soon,” said dad, not taking his eyes off the puppies for a moment. “It’s just getting harder and harder to get it. Everywhere we go, they chase us away.”
“It’s fine, we can handle it,” mom said encouragingly and pressed her head against dad’s shoulder. “The world of humans is big enough for us to find our place and our food as well.”
Suri heard their conversation but did not understand anything. She continued to chew and lick her part of the bone. Her first adult meal.
Chapter 5. Granny Pea
Suri always believed that she had been blessed with the best family. A beautiful mom, a big, strong dad, and brothers that she loved very much, despite the rough and tumble of their boyish games.
But most of all, Suri loved her grandmother. Granny Pea was very different from the rest of the dogs in their big pack. She was short, with thick, long golden hair, neatly pointed ears, and a very proud posture. Granny Pea always walked with her head held high and her long, slender legs taking graceful steps. Some might have thought her arrogant, but no, far from it. She had no airs and graces, did not turn up her nose at others and did not think she was better than anyone else. Granny Pea was very kind; she always helped everyone with either advice or deed. For example, she looked after all the puppies very well and told amazing stories. All the puppies loved Granny Pea, and every adult dog respected her. But Suri had a special love for her.
Suri had always been a most curious puppy. Every day she tried to learn something new for herself. Explore a new location. Taste a new puddle. Find the largest or most unusual walnut for her collection. But most of all, Suri loved to lay down with Granny Pea in the shade of a tree and listen to her treasure trove of old stories and fairy tales. Grandma knew a lot of fairy tales. Fairy tales, in particular, because while mom and dad also told the puppies stories about where they had been and what they had seen, Granny Pea always told magical, incredible tales – that were not known by a single dog in the pack. In these fairy tales, there were large houses, soft carpets, and warm couches. There were fireplaces – such strange things in which a dangerous and terrible fire burned. But within the fireplace, the fire was tame and warm, and you could lie near and bask in it. The most fabulous things of all were the bowls which overflowed with delicious food: meat, bones, and even milk. They were incredible stories, all right.
“How do you come up with such tales?” Suri once asked her grandmother.
“I’m not making it up,” grandma replied. “I really saw it all.”
“And you slept in a warm bed?”
“Yes.”
“And you ate meat from a bowl?” Suri’s stomach grumbled, and she was drooling at the thought.
“I did,” her grandmother smiled.
“Where did you do all this?” Suri tried hard to imagine a pipe or a hole in which there could be a soft bed and a bowl of meat. But even Suri’s rich imagination could not summon up such miraculous things.
“All this was at the house of my friend – my human,” grandmother sighed and looked sadly into the distance.
“HUMAN?” Suri shouted in amazement.
Dad and mom had told them about people. After all, it was always around people that they found food for themselves and their children. But there was always danger and anxiety attached to these stories.
“Remember, children,” dad had once said, “you must never get close to people. If you come across them unexpectedly, hide or run for it.”
“Are they really that scary?” the puppies asked, wiggling their ears in fright.
“They are unpredictable. They could scream right out, kick you, or throw stones at you. They don’t like us taking the food that they throw away.”
“Are they so greedy?” asked the cowering puppies.
“Yes. They are greedy. They won’t even give us what they don’t want or need,” Dad said with a frown. “People think we are dangerous and so they chase us away.”
“Are all people like that?” Suri asked timidly. For some reason, she did not want to believe in such scary stories at all.
Dad looked at her closely.
“No, baby, not all people are like that. They say there are good and kind humans,” for some reason, while saying this, dad turned to look at Granny Pea, who was sleeping nearby. “But this is not something you can know by just looking at them, and you should never try to check because it is too dangerous. A person can sound friendly when it calls you, but when you come closer… WHAM!”
The puppies loved their dad so much and, of course, believed him and perceived grandmother’s stories as fairy tales. They believed in her, certainly, but she was always at home; dad was the one who used to go out to get food and he was the one who saw people, which meant that dad’s stories had to be true.
However, Suri still could not fully believe her dad. Something inside her, in her little heart, said that her grandmother was also right, and what she was telling were not fairy tales; there could be such people too!
So, every day Suri and her grandmother lay down ever more comfortably in the shade and talked.
Suri once asked:
“Granny Pea, how come all other dogs have no names – even mom and dad and my brothers – but you and I have? And only you call me by name – well, sometimes mom does too.”
“Because, my little Suri, the rest of the dogs chose to have no name. More precisely, to have no human name. They have seen too much bad and too little good from people. I kept my name, and I gave you your name.”
And, in fact, the dogs in the pack did not really call each other by name. If a dog was black, then it was called so – Black. Big White Dog was hence called exactly that. Everyone called Suri’s dad Red, and her mom was called Fluffy.
In the whole pack, only Suri’s grandmother had an actual name: Busya.
“Grandma, what does your name mean?” Suri asked. “And where did it come from?”
“A human gave it to me,” answered Granny Pea. “Or rather, I always had it, and my human just said it out loud.”
“Always had it? How’s that?” Suri was very confused.
Grandma looked carefully at her granddaughter.
“Well, it’s time for you to know this, since you’re asking.” She moved closer to Suri. “Every dog… Remember this, Suri… Every single dog has its own name. It does not describe it just like Black or White. It may not mean anything, it just is.
And