Sid

Sid had big brown eyes and a huge square head typical of American Stratfords.  His body was now stronger and his brown and white chest,  broad. His brown and white coloring appeared in splotches all over his body. He was a good boy.

Abigail looked over at Sid, he was sleeping now. That day she didn’t expect to adopt a dog. She had set out to get  groceries and do some errands. She couldn’t have left him

though, not after she saw him, she couldn’t. 

Bushwick was a mix of the old and the new. Hipsters were pushing in, their optimistic, sunny dispositions standing out among the working class. This was still a neighborhood of struggle and the triumph over it.

She walked along Knickerbocker Avenue toward the supermarket. As she got closer, she noticed a man with a worn tan jacket and long dreadlocks with a young woman in a sweatshirt and faded jeans out in front—they were huddled shoulder to shoulder. They were crouching down to see something near the curb. 

Abigail stepped closer and she leaned in to look over the two of them. Tied to the railing at the edge of the sidewalk was a dog.

He lay flat against the concrete, his tail tucked tightly beneath him. His ribs pressed through his skin, his body painfully thin. Hollow eyes stared straight ahead at a pole. He didn’t look up at them.

“He’s gotta be vicious, the short, plump woman said. “One of those fighting dogs. Look at the scars on his face.”

Man, that dog ain’t got nothing left in him that resembles a fight, the man with dreads replied. “He’s been broken down physically and emotionally.

Abigail turned to him. What’s going to happen to him?  Someone called the cops. They’ll probably be here in a few hours,  he said. There ain’t no emergency right now. He ain’t going nowhere, and they got other things to deal with.

A tall blonde hipster walked over and chimed in, I called ACC. ACC, the young woman scoffed. They’re overcrowded. They won’t be here. The tall blonde woman responded curtly,  well maybe someone here has a better idea and she quickly walked away. 

Abigail looked at the dog—the scars on his face, the bones pushing through his body, the fear in his eyes. He hadn’t just been abandoned. He had been abused. The people meant to care for him had failed him.

At that moment, she decided, I’ll take him.   The young woman smiled, really?  Girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into, the man with the dreads said. You wanna take care of this? Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s vicious. Maybe he ain’t gonna make it. What you got going on in your head, girl?

Abigail looked at him. I don’t know, she said. “I just feel like I have to. Well, he ain’t going nowhere else,” the young woman said softly. God bless you, miss.

Abigail walked over to him and knelt down. He pressed himself against the railing, trying to get away from her. A soft growl rose from deep in his hollow belly. He backed up as far as he could, as if he wanted to disappear.

It’s okay… it’s okay, Abigail said gently.  I got something miss, the man with locs tapped her shoulder. She turned. His hand was outstretched, holding half a sandwich.

Now I know something about dogs, he said. Had plenty in my life. Take the turkey out the middle and offer him some. His voice was calm, reassuring. You’ll make a friend now.

Abigail looked up at him. Thank you—that’s very kind of you. She took the sandwich. The dog pressed himself tighter against the railing. Abigail knelt down and slowly extended her hand, a small piece of turkey resting in her palm.

He looked at her… then gently took it.  There you go, the man said with a soft laugh. Abigail looked up again. “Thank you, sir. That was really kind of you.”

She stepped closer and carefully untied the dog from the rail. “Do you think he’ll walk? she asked. Not sure, the man said, but he’s not too heavy, that’s for sure.

Abigail slipped her arms under him and lifted. He was light—far too light.  What you gonna name him? the man asked.

She paused. “How about Sid?  Sid?” he laughed. Why Sid?” I don’t know… it just popped into my head. The first thing that popped into my mind after you said Sid was Sid Vicious. They all laughed. Now Sid has a home,” the  woman said softly.

A few months went by, and Sid began to gain some weight. The vet said it would take time. The absence of love in his past life was still evident.  Animals feel grief. They experience heartbreak and  trauma too. 

Abigail worked patiently to gain his trust. In those first weeks, he was fearful, cowering when she reached to pet his face. I won’t hurt you, she would reassure him.

Now, Abigail gazed at him as he slept. She walked over, draped a light blanket over him, and gently touched his face. How could someone have abused him? she wondered. I guess I’ll never know.

You know, Sid… people have let me down too,” she said softly. But you won’t be let down again. Her friends said the dog was taking too much of her time—that she didn’t go out like she used to. Abigail considered it. But Sid brought her something steadier—structure, predictability. 

He reinforced her need for a  quieter life, far from the noise, the gossip, the unnecessary chaos. Her focus shifted. The places she went changed. This was the blessing Sid brought into her life.

You know… I thought I was the one saving you. She paused, her voice softer now. But you made my life better too. Maybe we both needed each other, she said. Sid let out a small sigh in his sleep, as if he understood. 

Abigail thought,  Life is about healing—going through the hard times and coming out the other side a little stronger, a little kinder. And when you look back, you reach back, helping others find their way out too. Sid she whispered, we made it.