Ch VIII: A Place That Quiet

The boy's parents watched helplessly as the automobile sped through the street, heading right for Junior. The family dogs, Lady on one side of the street and The Tramp on the other, realized what was about to happen with dread. Junior heard his mother's cry.

"Jimmy, come back!" she'd shouted at him. "Jimmy!"

Now the child was confused — he'd been so excited to see his dogs returning home, but now his mother was screaming — and confusion turned to fright. Junior began to cry.

His father, Jim Dear, had leapt into the street after him, but the toddler was far into the street and he had no chance of reaching him in time. Fortunately, someone else did.

Buster had seen enough accidents in his life to immediately know the dangers of children crossing the road. In a second, the great black-and-brown dog had charged into the street, grabbed Junior's shirt, and dragged him out of the street.

Poor Junior got his knees scraped up, and that made him cry even louder, but Buster pulled him to safety before the speeding car could hit him.

Jim Dear had stopped in shock, but now he raced to his son's side. Darling's horror became joy once again and she folded her hands to pray thanks. Now that the street was clear, Lady, her daughters, and Darling all rushed to join the rest of their family.

"He's alright!" Jim Dear shouted, picking Junior up from the sidewalk.

"Oh, Jim," she sniffed, kissing her son, "that was the scariest moment of my life."

They'd lifted their child up, but now Junior was reaching his arms out not to his parents, but to the dog that saved him. Buster backed away at first — he disliked human kids, for they were loud and smelly and loved to pull tails — but after The Tramp gave an encouraging nod, he stepped forward. The boy threw his arms around Buster's neck.

"You saved our son." Jim Dear dropped to his knees. "How can we ever repay you?"

"We could adopt him," Darling suggested. "What's one more dog?"

"Well, if that's what he wants," Jim cautioned. He knew this dog was different from Angel, who'd seemed to know people. This dog had clearly been a stray all his life.

"Looks like he already knows Lady and Tramp!" he chuckled, for the three dogs were sniffing noses with each other and wagging their tails.

After they'd all caught their breath and Junior had stopped crying, the family crossed the street, though they looked both ways first. Lady, The Tramp, and their four pups followed their owners, and Angel and Peg trotted after them. A little reluctantly, Buster joined them. The dogs were thrilled to be back in their yard, and after running through the grass, the younger ones raced into the house. The older dogs remained outside.

Jim Dear held the door open for the Rotterman — he even got a strip of bacon from the kitchen to tempt him inside — but he wouldn't go. Instead, Buster went for the doghouse.

So the couple fixed a bowl of kibble, topped with bacon, and a tin bucket of cool water, and they set it all by the doghouse for him. "I don't think we'll get him through the door," Jim Dear stood back and let the Dober-Rott enjoy his meal. He wouldn't eat when the man was close. "So how about this, big fella? You can sleep out here whenever you want. Come and go as you please. We'll feed you anytime you're hungry."

Buster devoured the kibble and bacon and nearly sloshed all the water out, then he laid down inside the doghouse. Jim Dear and Darling believed he got the idea.

The father and mother brought their son inside to bandage his scraped knees, and the dogs were left outside. Annette, Colette, and Danielle discovered a new female dog among them, and they pulled old Peg inside the house to show her their collection of bows and ribbons. That left Lady and The Tramp in the backyard with Buster. They were rejoined by Scamp and Angel, who had been thinking over what to say to their former bully.

"Don't think we've forgotten all the trouble you caused on the Fourth of July," she huffed. "I've known you a long time, Buster. You're nothing but bad news."

"I've known him longer," The Tramp said. "And it's not that simple, Angel."

"Isn't it? He let Scamp go to the pound, he bullied everyone in his gang, and he — he called me His Girl all the time," Angel seethed. "He knew I hated that."

"Would it help if I said sorry?" Buster offered. "I know I was a jerk. I know I can't take back teasing ya. But I wanna be better now. Ya trouble is my trouble."

"Really? Cause I thought Buster's trouble was Buster's trouble."

"Not anymore. Everyone's trouble is Buster's trouble!"

She didn't look convinced, but Angel quickly realized she was alone in her grudge. Lady and The Tramp stood beside him comfortably, and even Scamp — she'd counted on Scamp to take her side — looked uneasy. "Tenderfoot! Don't tell me you forgive him."

"I think I do," he admitted, looking at the Dober-Rott in a new light. "Buster could've been hurt by those horses, but he did what he did. We'd be in the pound if he hadn't. And he could've been hit by that car, but he still risked his life to save Junior." Slowly, Scamp moved over to stand with his parents. "I know Buster did wrong, but I believe he's changed."

"Thank you, Scampo! My main man!" Buster laughed, then took on a more serious tone. "Look, Angel, I wasn't nice in the junkyard. But I never let ya starve, did I? Don't ya know I did everything I could to keep ya guys safe? Ya were my gang. I took care of ya."

She kept a steady frown so they wouldn't know she was tossing and turning inside.

"I can't convince ya overnight, but one day I will. That's a Buster promise."

By then it was late in the evening, and the dogs were well and truly exhausted. Jim and Darling brought them all inside for a much-delayed dinner, and they were ready to sleep. Peg wasn't one of theirs, but when they saw her cuddled next to Angel, they decided to let her spend the night. After his latest adventure, Scamp was glad to sleep in his own bed again. He even let his sisters join him, and they didn't complain about his stench.

In a few hours, everyone else in the house was sound asleep. That was what Lady and The Tramp had been waiting for. Careful not to wake their owners or their pups, they snuck out the doggy door and returned to the backyard. They made for the doghouse.

Under the cover of night, the three of them could finally talk.

It seemed Buster, like them, hadn't really fallen asleep but waited until the world was dark and quiet. He emerged from the doghouse and they all moved towards the flower beds. "That was a great thing you did today," The Tramp whispered.

"Anyone woulda done tha same," Buster shrugged. "I don't even like kids."

"Well, I think Junior likes you," Lady giggled, nuzzling his chest.

The display of affection made them all pause, take a step back, and clear their throats. The silence between them, full of tension and heartache, was so loud that the neighborhood racoons and owls must've stopped what they were doing to listen in.

"Let me start by saying, to you Lady," The Tramp said, steadying his breaths, "that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for staying out with Peg and trying to lie about it. I'm sorry for losing my temper with you. And I am so, so sorry I left you to go back to my old life."

"Oh, Tramp…" she sniffed, hanging her head like when Darling smacked her for the first time, "...I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, and I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"All this time, I was remembering the fun I had on the streets. I thought I could get those good times back, but yesterday's gone. And y'know what?" He dropped to the grass so they were at eye level. Their noses touched. "It wasn't nearly as nice as my life with you."

"So do you… do you want to be Tramp again? Or are you The Tramp?"

He shook his head at his own foolishness. "Forget the 'The.' I don't need a silly title to feel worthy of it." He licked her cheek softly. "Call me Tramp, sweetheart."

"I'm so glad, Tramp. I really do love you. But I think I love someone else, too."

"That's odd," he chuckled. "I was thinking the very same."

Their attention turned to the handsome Rotterman sitting across from them. This was a sensation that neither could've predicted, but Lady and Tramp knew it to be true.

As for Buster, he'd listened to their shared apologies awkwardly. They seemed so happy together, and so happy to make things right, that Buster thought himself stupid and childish for ever hating their love. What they had was good, and Buster was afraid he'd ruin it.

But the look in their eyes said otherwise. He sat a little closer to them.

"Tha day I twisted my ankle, when I first met ya, Lady… I laid in tha junkyard a long time feeling sorry for myself. I felt like no one cared about me." He reached out and licked Tramp's face. "But ya always have." He turned to Lady and licked her. "And so do ya."

"This morning, Buster stopped me from leaving on a train and never coming back," Tramp recounted for Lady. "We talked a while, and we realized that… well, if it doesn't sound too silly… we still love each other. And we love you, Pidge. Is that okay?"

"Is any of this okay?" Buster whispered. "I mean, three of us… it's different."

"It is different," Lady admitted, then she nuzzled them both in turn. "But I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you both. This isn't what I thought love was supposed to look like — it's not like Jim Dear and Darling — but this feels right to me."

The Cocker Spaniel, the Schnauzer mutt, and the Dober-Rott all curled up together in the backyard, and though the winds blew a little bit colder, they were all warm that night. Buster laid his head on Tramp's back, Tramp rested on Buster's chest, and Lady cuddled between them.

"The older I get," Tramp said quietly, his chest rising and falling contently, "the more I realize love is the only thing in the world that matters."

"That's right," Lady whispered. "We can make this work."

Suddenly Buster laughed uncontrollably, and the other two shushed him. They stared at him, wanting to know what was so hilarious. "Buster, Lady, Tramp… Don't ya get it?" He grinned his crocodile grin."We're a big, happy BLT sandwich."

"Has anyone ever told you you're not funny?"

"Ya wouldn't be tha first, babe."

The next day was a celebration in the Darlings' yard, a holiday all to themselves. It wasn't the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, or Christmas. It wasn't Junior, Jim Dear, or Darling's birthday, but regardless the husband telephoned the office to say he wouldn't be coming into work today. "Family, boss," Jim said into the receiver. "It's family matters."

The dogs had stunk to high heavens when they returned to Snob Hill yesterday evening, so the first order of business was to get the old tin bathtub, the large one, for a backyard pool party. An entire bottle of dog shampoo, lukewarm water, and nine dogs made for quite an event. "In the water, Scamp! You smell like a cow pasture," they ordered, pinching their noses. "Oh, Angel, so do you! How far away did you two go?"

The young dogs had such fun playing in the water — even Scamp barked happily, and despite Jim Dear scrubbing him a bit harder than the rest, he was soon splashing Angel and his sisters. The glee was infectious, and the older dogs were soon sopping wet and laughing themselves. Even Junior hopped in, wearing his one-piece bathing suit, shrieking joyfully.

"You too, big fella!" Jim Dear got Buster with the hose. "I don't think you've ever had a bath in your life." Some chasing and spraying was required with him.

The weather smiled on them, for although it was September, the day was pleasant. After everyone was scrubbed, hosed, and patted down with towels, the midday sun soon had them fresh and dry. Jim decided such a nice day warranted a Brown family barbeque.

"Jim Dear, you know what happens when you cook."

"What's wrong with my cooking? The dogs love it, don't they?"

While Buster had considered making a run for it during bathtime, the smell of sizzling hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill convinced him to stay a little longer. The only beggar among the dogs was Scamp, who'd been frequently chastised at the dinner table — he usually got Junior to sneak him a few bites — but soon all the dogs were enjoying hot burgers. Darling brought out the picnic blanket and lemonade, and it was a memorable meal.

The food was delicious, though maybe a tad burnt.

"Seems we've lured two more!" Jim Dear laughed as their neighbors' dogs, Jock and Trusty, came trotting down the sidewalk. The terrier and bloodhound were far too dignified to beg, but they didn't see the harm in a social visit, especially when the smell of grilled beef wafted so temptingly into their yard.

"Ack, so glad ye're home again, me muckers!" Jock avoided Scamp though, for he was wearing his favorite knitted tartan scarf and still had memories of an unraveled jumper.

"We were awful worried about you bunch," Trusty chuckled. He sniffed out the runaway Scamp, he sniffed out his father, and he sniffed his way to the stranger among them. "Why, who's this fella here? I don't reckon I've had the pleasure."

"Names's Buster. I don't shake paws and I ain't sniffing ya rear."

The bloodhound's eyes widened, but the black Scottish terrier stifled a laugh.

"Hmm… I've met a few dogs such as yourself, the black-and-brown fellas…" Trusty raised an eyebrow. "Tracked down a few who weren't on the right side of the law."

"Maybe they were good canines in bad situations, grandpa."

"That is entirely possible," Trusty said wisely. "Entirely plausible."

"Oh, I wanted to tell ye!" Little Jock bounced up to Tramp happily, puffing his chest out. "I did go back to the dog park, and I may be getting on in years, but I found meself a sweet Pekinese girl named Abigail. Ach, ain't she just darling? And it's all thanks to ye!"

"To me?" Tramp laughed. "What did I do?"

"Nice is better than cool. Listen when she talks. Make her laugh."

Tramp shook his head in pleasant astonishment. He gazed at his lovely Lady, who had stayed by his side for so long till he'd grown restless, and his heart was heavy. But with the smell of hotdogs and the beautiful sun, shame and regret didn't last long. He winked at Jock. "You still got it, highlander. Age is nothing to fret over."

By the tulip beds, Peg and Angel were listening in to their conversation curiously. Jim Dear and Darling had never met old Peggy before, but she was friendly and they bathed and fed her with the rest. "That's nice for the Scotsman. Everyone deserves someone to have that special love with," Peg said, her fluffy tail dropping. "I'm glad you got Scamp, baby."

"Don't be sad, Momma… I bet a lot of guys would love you."

"That's the problem, hon. I just want a good one."

"I'm sure there's someone looking for you right now."

"Peggy! Oh, good to see ye, Peg!"

None other than Bull, the portly English bulldog from the pound, came waddling into the family's backyard. He was a wide smiler, big-bellied, and very fond of giving kisses, though he tended to slobber. "Pardon the party-crasher," he chuckled, "but I heard from the daschund at the barber's, who heard it from the labrador at the baker's, who heard it from the sheepdog behind the post office that ye were back in town! Oh, am I ever glad."

"You're glad, huh?" Peg said, tilting her head. "That's awful sweet."

"Ah, well, y'know… we've known each other so long… pound pals, ain't we?"

"Hey there, Bully! Long time no see." Tramp gave his old friend a sly grin.

The mother and daughter excused themselves while the boys caught up on the street scene, who was in the pound and who was out, and who'd marked which fire hydrant. On the other side of the doghouse, Peg and Angel giggled quietly.

"Momma, I've got a feeling Bull didn't just come for the hotdogs."

"Oh, stop it! He can be so dim-witted, and selfish sometimes, and he's… he's…"

"Aww, he's got a sweet spot for you. Give the guy a chance."

"I suppose he is kinda cute. An ugly kinda cute." She peered at the bulldog from behind the doghouse. "And he'd got that accent. Gotta love a man with an accent."

They returned to Bull and Tramp, and to the chubby dog's great surprise, she gave him a gentle lick on the cheek. "Thanks for missing me, Oxford." He chortled and smiled himself silly, and the two of them ran to get some more hotdogs and burgers.

"These two are precious, aren't they, Jim Dear?" his wife nudged.

"You can't be serious! The city will give us a notice for having so many dogs."

"No, not us," she giggled, stooping down to scratch them under the chin. "But I know Pete and Margot down the street are wanting some older, quiet dogs… Don't you think these two would be perfect for them?" Peg and Bull woofed and licked her hands.

It was a backyard party to remember. The family had to shut the front gate before the grill attracted any more interested parties — they already knew the neighborhood would forever call them "those crazy dog people" — for the sheer number at the party, but the town had never known a more well-behaved pack. Dessert was a box of dog treats, one for everyone — Lady, Tramp, Buster, Scamp, Angel, Annette, Colette, Danielle, Jock, Trusty, Peg, and Bull — and after a while, the family turned in for the evening. They poured whiskey and wine, and milk for Junior, and settled around the fire to listen to a show on their fancy new radio.

Since Buster hadn't wanted to go inside, Lady and Tramp stayed by the doghouse with him. Their stomachs were full, their energy spent, and just lying in the grass together was nice. They were joined by Jock and Trusty, and while everyone else was settled in the kitchen, Angel and Scamp wandered outside to join the grown-ups. It made them feel more grown-up.

"I suppose we should tell you," Tramp began, "about us three."

"Buster is very dear to us both." Lady took his paw. "We love each other."

"In different ways, y'know? But good different." Buster beamed.

This was not the news any of them had expected to hear. At first Jock and Trusty weren't sure what to say, but when they saw the smiles on their faces, what could they do but smile themselves? Angel and Scamp exchanged a confused look, then they laughed joyfully at the surprise turn. She was still a bit wary, but he'd always admired Buster's brazen sneer and sheer audacity, so Scamp realized he was okay with it. "Life sure is funny, isn't it?"

"It's not how we did things in my day." Trusty paused to think about the whole thing, which took a little, and then grinned. "But we're not in my day anymore, are we?"

"If it's love, lads and lassie," Jock assured them, "then it's good."

That was the last warm night of summer, and before long the fireflies stopped showing and the branches turned bare, but they had memories of sun to keep them through the cold. Angel was content with her sixth home, and she was happy to have her mother just a few blocks away. Scamp soon stopped chewing hats and tearing the upholstery. Buster never wore a collar and he was never chained to the doghouse, but it was warm in the winter with Junior's baby blanket, and he was soon sleeping there more often than the junkyard. Lady and Tramp had him, they had each other, and they had their family.

ONE YEAR LATER

The days came and went in their quaint little town, found somewhere or other in charming New England, but one wouldn't think all that much had changed. Strays still ran footloose and collar-free around the cobbled streets, so the dogcatchers still chased them with their nets and their ugly automobiles. Fortunately, the catchers weren't that talented.

Though many local shops had hit a dry spell at the end of last year, spring and summer had revitalized business. Tony's Italian restaurant got more customers with each beautiful night, and Tony and Joe served the town — soon to be a city — for many years to come.

Far across the still-town, in a wealthier neighborhood the street dogs had nicknamed Snob Hill, a large gray dog yawned to the bright morning. The canine was on the front porch of a large white-and-lavender house, a relaxing spot where he snoozed away the daylight.

His nap was interrupted when a lovely dog with cream-colored fur, a big poofy tail, and a purple collar around her neck came out the front door. "You ready, Tenderfoot?"

"Guess now's as good a time as any, Angel," he said, biting back another yawn. Scamp's scraggly fur was still that strange color, neither gray nor brown but some shade lost somewhere in between. He was full-grown, his limbs longer and his Schnauzer beard scruffier. As anyone could've guessed, he was the spitting image of his father.

Angel also looked much the same, except the fluff of hair on her head had grown and her tail was bigger and bushier. She'd grown as large as her mother.

"Have you been to see everybody?" Angel asked. "Told them all?"

"Let me see… I saw Jock and Trusty. They were sad but they understood. And I told Annie, Collie, and Dannie when we went to Aunt Sarah's last night."

The greatest surprise of the year had been that Aunt Sarah — a cat-lover and dog-hater all her life — had grown so fond of Annette, Colette, and Danielle. Tragically, her pair of Siamese cats lost their lives when the old woman took a vacation to Paris, the City of Lights. They'd been passing a skyscraper when a falling piano, which strangely enough had chopsticks stuck in the keys, squished Si and Am flat. It was a very tragic day.

A few months later, Jim Dear and Darling had allowed her to take the three girls home with her, and it'd been a smash hit. They were terribly well-behaved, and Aunt Sarah spent the rest of her days giving Annette, Colette, and Danielle lots of pretty bows.

"You've seen Bull and your mom, right? How are those two getting on?"

"Like peas in a pod. He keeps her from getting lonely, and she loves that old bulldog more than she'll ever admit." Angel smiled, thinking for a moment about her youth, when her mom left her in the junkyard. She was grateful that she'd gotten to know Peg better.

"Then that's everyone. I believe we are good to go."

"So let's get going, Tenderfoot."

He put his teeth on her collar, and with a bit of struggling, got it off her head. She grabbed his collar and pulled it off of him. They hadn't thought this would be the difficult part, but when they'd laid their teal and violet collars on the front porch, their chests grew tight.

Scamp remembered how thrilled he was to be free of it that fateful Independence Day, and how glad he'd been to get it back. Angel thought of when Jim Dear and Darling first gave her the collar, and how joyful it was. They exchanged a tender look.

But they'd made up their minds weeks ago.

As they left the front steps and exited the yard, turning to take one last gaze at the home and yard, they were watched by three dogs who lingered around the corner of the house, just out of sight. "They really did go… I'll miss them so much."

"Like they said they would, sweetheart. We know Scamp and Angel have wanted this for a while now." He licked her cheek gently. "Let the young have their dreams."

"They better be careful," the Dober-Rott sighed. "I wish we'd taught him more."

"We taught him plenty. I think they're ready, and I'm glad for them."

Lady, Tramp, and Buster were a little older, a little grayer. She was content with the quiet life, she'd always been, and after all their adventures and dangers on the streets, the two boys had grown fond of retirement, too. It sure beat ending up behind bars.

"Jim Dear and Darling will miss them. Oh, and Junior! He loves Scamp so much."

"Little Jimmy's starting school soon. And he always has Buster here."

The Rotterman grinned stupidly. For a dog who'd never liked children, he had quickly become Jimmy's favorite. And what could Buster say? The kid threw a good ball.

"All part of being a parent, isn't it? Kids gotta start their own lives someday."

"Yeah, but why'd it have to be today?" Buster sighed and rolled over.

They all laid down in the grass, resting their heads on each other. Lady had never known so much love in her life, and she was ready to smile and sleep. For Tramp and Buster, who'd thought it was every dog for himself for so long, this life was heaven on earth.

So they didn't stop Scamp and Angel from running through the dirt roads and brick streets, the town they knew so well. They didn't stop them from visiting all the familiar spots — Tony's restaurant, the romantic park, the town junkyard, the riverside. And finally, near the edge of town, they paused. "It's time to move on," Angel whispered.

"Everyone's got to sooner or later," Scamp said. He'd been apprehensive about this day, but now he was nothing but excited. He gazed at the distant mountains and forests, the fields beyond the horizon, and past what he could see with his own two eyes.

"Look at it, Angel. There's a great big hunk of world out there with no fence around it, where two dogs can find adventure and excitement, and beyond those distant hills… who knows what wonderful experiences? And it's all ours for the taking, Angel. It's all ours."

The pair made their way down to the trainyard, just like the day Angel and her mother had left the first time and Scamp had leapt after them. The last train of the day blared its whistle, ready to depart, and the two dogs jumped into an open compartment near the caboose.

The engine roared into action, the steam whistle hissed and bellowed again, and the wheels started to roll. The dogs felt the floor shade beneath their paws. The steel horse began chugging and chugging away, picking up speed as it ran along the rails.

"So where do we go now, Tenderfoot?" Angel asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Anywhere and everywhere we want," Scamp woofed, settling down beside her and staring out the open compartment. The fields and trees became a blur of green and gold, blessed by the bright sun and the warm air. "I'll go anywhere, as long as it's with my family."

"You're my family, Tenderfoot," Angel whispered.

They were quiet for a while, content to gaze at the passing colors and speeding grasses, forests, and meadows, holding each other dear. Angel spokt up first. "Do you suppose we'll ever settle down someplace? Mom used to talk about a nice farm, with a barn and plenty of food and hay… Maybe a family of farmers to feed us. Think we'll find a place that quiet?"

"I know we will." Scamp beamed at her. "Y'know, Dad always teased me about… well, about what our kids might be like. Our puppies."

"Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we, hon?"

"Guess so," he laughed. "But I always thought that if we have a son… and he looks like me and dad… we could name him Champ. Do you like it?"

"Very clever. First Tramp, then Scamp, then Champ, then Stamp, then — "

"Ah, that can come later. Right now, we've got the world to explore."

Their train steamed off, taking them past the fields and over the mountains, far, far away under the evening sun vanishing behind the tree tops. With their tails wagging together and their eyes on the distant horizon, they imagined endless adventures.