Romy shifted on the mat by the sliding glass door and lifted his nose a few inches to the cool fall air.  Titan faced the house and Romy caught the scent of his natural Alpha cologne and avoided making eye contact, while maintaining his own dignity, by watching the squirrels scamper across the kennel roof carrying nuts to some secret nest.  Although Romy was now more than passing friends with the girl-dogs of the house, Helen, his human woman, would not let him close to the great fawn giant, Titan.  Still, Romy liked to watch the other male in the yard, when he could admire without being discovered.

             His eyes shifted to the squirrels again and he wondered why they bothered with such a tasteless chore.  He had tried a few of those ground berries and found them boring and dry, and had once created quite a mess on the living room floor from their lingering bland rumblings.  He didn’t try to chew them anymore to fill his stomach.  It had taken a while to figure out that his Helen-woman wasn’t playing games, like with the ball, when she put out his food bowl.  When he first came to the new house his food bowl had been given to him several times a day. It had been filled with a warm mixture of food that came from a bag marked Premium.  The Helen-woman had filled his bowl and then put water from the metal hose in the double bowls that were made into the counter, and then she just let it sit there.  This apparently was not part of the game because he had barked and jumped and she still didn’t give it to him.  He hadn’t quite figured it out, but felt that if he stared at the bowl for a while Helen-woman would soon come and look in the bowl and then put it on the stand that was at his chest level so he didn’t have to bend down too far to eat.  Sometimes it seemed longer and he thought he must have blinked and then the timing had to start all over again.

             After a few weeks, Helen-woman had started giving him more food at each feeding and then there seemed to be less bowls during the day.  He knew from his daily lickings that he now had more areas to lick that were firmer, and not touching his ribs and other bones.  Sometimes he became distracted, either from Titan barking in another area of the house or kennel, or else he just wanted to wait a bit, and he didn’t eat.  Later, when he would go back, his bowl would be gone.  The girl-dogs seemed to smirk at him as he searched the kitchen for where it was hidden but all he sometimes found was a small piece of kibble that had fallen from someone’s lips.  After a few weeks he had learned to ignore Titan, or the cats, and eat even if he wasn’t that hungry.  Still, he maintained some decorum and didn’t wolf it down, bouncing his bowl against the stand in a cacophony of metal steel drums, like some of the dogs in the house.

             Romy came out of his trance by the door when he heard Helen pick up the leash from the hall rack.  He leaped to his feet and raced to the front door, grinning and weaving by the house-tree.  He had heard the humans talking the night before about going for a microchip.  Although he wasn’t sure what it tasted like, he knew it must be good because the humans had said, “It lasts forever.”

           Romy sat up in the crate in the van as they made their way down the lane to the road where other cars ran.  Sometimes, he still felt a tightness in his stomach and worried that he was going back to that other place.  A place he didn’t want to think about.  Whenever they got in the van Romy searched her face and looked for a sign of a twisted mouth, and shadowed eyes, that he had seen on other faces at other times.  Today Helen-woman was singing to a song coming from the throat of the van and she was tapping her hand on the wheel.  Romy sighed and lowered his front legs to the soft pad on the crate floor.  He wasn’t sure if he would ever understand humans anyway.  Helen-woman had a sign in the kitchen that he kept trying to understand but couldn’t get all the words, though he sounded them out in his head almost everyday, that said The dog has seldom pulled man up to his level of sagacity, but man has frequently dragged the dog down to his.  Which dog was she talking about anyway, he wondered as he yawned and fell over against the wire side.         

        Romy woke up to the sound of the van door closing and voices he had heard at the new house many times.  Helen-woman came around and got him out of the crate.  Romy instantly swelled with pride at all the ooings and ahhings at his appearance.  He couldn’t contain his rear waggings with so many pettings and faces presented for kissings.  He didn’t know this microchip was a party-favor!  Romy was further pleased to see that although there were other dogs there, he was the only Great Dane, and in this role, he felt the need to further the cause and image of the Apollo of Dogs.  Romy arched his toes a bit to get another half inch and flexed and pointed his ears.  A sidelong glance at a Boston Terrier confirmed that he was in control.  Romy didn’t look at any of the dogs after that, and maintained an act of disinterest until he was required to walk into another room by a man who was dressed like the dog-doctor.

         Romy sniffed for the microchip and hoped it was chicken-based, although there were no identifiable smells in the room.  Ah, it must be pre-packaged he guessed.  Helen-woman handed the white-jacketed man some papers from her purse and he gave her a card that had CAR written on the top.  Humans were confusing; Romy knew that cars were those things on the road that were too small to hold dog crates.  The man patted Romy’s neck and he felt a small prick and just as quickly the man was patting his head and telling him he was a good boy and then handing him a small treat.  Romy hesitated before taking the green bone between his teeth.  This microchip didn’t smell any different than the treats he got at home, but, Helen-woman wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to give him something she had in a jar on the shelf unless it was worth the effort.

      “Okay, boy.  Now if you get lost we’ll be able to get you home.”

       Helen-woman smiled, “This is so much better than just a collar and tags.  With the Companion Animal Recovery microchip in place we won’t have to worry that Romy could get lost and not get back to us.  I feel better knowing that Romy is permanently micro chipped for us.”

        Romy swallowed the rest of the cookie and was glad he couldn’t tell her that the cookie wasn’t all that great, in fact it was a bit stale, since it seemed to make her happy.  Still, on the way home, he went to sleep right away, comforted by the words “home” and “back to us”.  He guesses those microchip cookies were worth the drive after all.