This is the story of Crayons and his unfortunate adventure of losing his Mamma Jones but finding his happy ending.
Crayons nudged his human mother, the Widow Jones, with his cold nose. Momma Jones was usually up by now, but she hasn't woken up yet. Crayons' bladder was hurting in a way that made him rush around in a panicked manner, with his little nub-tailed butt wagging. He needed his walk, so Crayons nudged her harder with his nose.
Nothing happened; Momma Jones did not wake up.
Crayons managed to get his nerves to cooperate for just a moment, jumped up on the quilted bed next to her, and licked Momma Jones all over her dry human nose. Still, though, she would not wake up.
How strange, Crayons has been with Momma Jones for four years now, since he was a puppy, and she has never stayed asleep after he asked her to wake up. What was this? What was wrong?
Frantic now, and still having to go make, Crayons yelped for help. He was worried. He ran around the small apartment in circles, making it to the kitchen. His tiny claws were tapping the cheaply installed tile floor, and his brown shaggy undercoat got all wet as he accidentally ran through his relief. Crayons hoped no one would punish him for making in the kitchen.
Crayons screamed, "Help me, please, help Momma Jones!"
He knew the neighbors would only hear yelps and woof-woofs, but some of the neighborhood dogs heard his cries and tried to alert their human parents, but no human understood. No human knew this day that Momma Jones had passed away in her sleep.
For two whole days Crayons had no one to fill his food bowl. For two whole days Crayons put his little front paws on that toilet lid, raising himself above and over to keep from going thirsty, his little back paws tippy-toeing onto the tips of his little claws for balance. For two whole days, Crayons made in the same spot so no one would get too mad at him. For two whole days, Crayons spent his hours laying next to and cuddling with his lifeless Momma Jones, hoping he could warm her back to life with his heat... Or at least get to lie next to her for a little while longer before somebody took her away. Somebody is coming for her, right? Someone will come and save them?
The phone rang once every couple of hours, and every time the answering machine picked up, and every time Crayons heard the voice of Momma Jones' human daughter, Dahlia. Crayons recognized the voice but he did not know what she was saying. In the beginning, when he heard Dahlia, he would cry and yelp thinking maybe she could hear him and help, but after two whole days, he knew better than that.
Finally, Crayons began to hear a panic in Dahlia's voice as she spoke. This comforted him because maybe she would come to look for her mother and help him. The panic in Dahlia's voice made Crayons whimper softly from the simple hope that somebody would finally come to save the both of them. Locked in a room with no voice of his own and no means of survival, Crayons was otherwise doomed.
Finally, at the end of the second day, as the sun was setting, there was a knock on Momma Jones' apartment door. What to do, oh what to do?! Crayons cocked his head, and raised his ears towards the sound. He barked and barked, and stood up on all four legs; his nub-tail wagging wildly because someone finally came to help! When no one answered the door, he could hear Dahlia raising her voice, screaming into the door. Crayons didn't want to leave Momma Jones, but he had to. He ran to the door, scratched at it, and barked into it the same wat Dahlia was barking into the door. Crayons had to let her know that something was wrong. Finally, he heard a key turning in the lock. Knowing that someone would be coming in soon, Crayons went go lay down with his loving Momma Jones one more time.
Thankfully, nobody yelled at Crayons for making, but nobody really seemed to notice him there either. Hungry and scared, Crayons followed every visitor around the apartment, nudging them for some help. After whimpering at his food bowl for what felt like forever, one nice lady in dark blue pants and a light blue medical shirt found the dog food and filled his food bowl and his water bowl to their tops. Crayons ate for the first time in two whole days.
After he ate, Crayons wandered around his and Momma Jones' apartment. There were so many people and flashing lights. Dahlia was still softly crying on the sofa while talking to a man wearing a shiny pendant on his shirt, like the one Crayons has on his collar. The strange people had taken Momma Jones away long ago. They zipped her up on a cold, plastic blue bag, put her on a rolling bed, and rolled her away. He had tried to jump on and go with her to make sure she would be okay, but the people wouldn't let him.
Feeling neglected and alone, Crayons jumped back onto the bed, this time he buried himself under the sheets. He left his black button nose sticking out for breath and went to sleep.
Days passed and Crayons had been staying with Dahlia. Living with Dahlia is so much different than living with his Momma and Crayons did not like it. First off, Dahlia and her husband never let Crayons inside. The only one who let him in was the little girl with dark curly hair who couldn’t even walk straight. She sometimes lifted the latch on the old doggy door for him, obviously there has been another dog that used to live in this back yard and Dahlia and the Dad fuss at the child every time.
Crayons began to feel a connection with the Little One. She spoke similar to him because she spoke in a way that nobody else could understand. And if her mommy, Dahlia, were to leave like Momma Jones left Crayons, then she wouldn’t be able to do much either.
For days and days, Crayons would sit outside the big glass door and watch the Little One, and the Little One watched back. Sometimes, the Little One would try to sneak Crayons inside to cuddle, but he knew better than that. Crayons would have loved to cuddle with the warmth of the little one, her little hands petting his head and scratching his ears, but he knew Dahlia and the dad would just yell at her. The Little One would cry, but they could never understand. Humans almost never understood the need for two helpless being to feel like they can at least have each other as a crutch.
That's what Crayons loved about Momma Jones. They needed each other to live. Momma Jones would just sit for hours, stroking Crayons' fur, and they would be happy just keeping each other company. Everybody needs somebody to help them understand how to not be lonely. With every passing day, Crayons saw a lot of Momma Jones in the Little One; the same eyes, the same sincere smile, and the same kind warmth that can only come from the insides of the soul.
One day soon after, there were plenty of people in the back yard with Crayons. Dahlia had set up tables and chairs earlier that day, and some familiar faces came by to bring food. There were so many people dressed in black and socializing. Some were familiar to Crayons but most were not. Crayons heard Momma Jones' name a lot, but knew better than to think she would be there. No, Momma Jones was not coming back.
Depressed and sad, Crayons took a walk. His head drooping, ears back, eyebrows scrunched together, and feeling all alone, Crayons let out a soft whimper. He found a tree trunk in the shade, walked in a circle to get his body right, and flopped down in the grass, trying to cover his face with a leaf. Crayons just lay there, slowly blinking his round, dark eyes, and watching the ants climb the blades of grass.
Crayons felt a hand on his back. The Little One had come to sit with him. She was squatting down, her diaper hanging out of her little black velvet dress and a black bow was holding the hair on top of her head straight up like a flower. Crayons liked the way some of her curls still stuck to the sides of her face, especially by her ears. Her cheeks were red and her eyes very, very round, almost like his! They were green, though, unlike Crayons'. Crayons was so excited that she came to sit with him. He was so lonely before that.
All of a sudden, the Little One got a confused look on her face. Her eyes squished and she made a blubbering noise. Is that what a little human says sometimes? She quickly lost her balance and the Little One fell right on her butt, trying to catch her fall by clinging on to some little sand-colored strands of Crayons' hair. Crayons heard the padded diaper flop. The Little One's eye started to get wet and her lip quivered. Oh no, Crayons didn't want anyone to think he had done this!
Crayons did the only thing he thought to do; he licked the tip of her button nose with his tongue to let her know that he was there, and he rubbed his fuzzy face against her soft cheeks to warm her up. Warmth means contact, and contact means somebody loves you to be that close with you. Crayons was very gentle with the Little One and sat on his hind legs next to her and lay his chin on her shoulder. There, Crayons stared at the Little One in the eyes, and she stopped her crying.
Crayons could feel himself being lifted up by two adult human hands. He looked around, and saw that it was Dahlia. Looking forward, Crayons saw that the Little One was being picked up, too, by her daddy. Crayons and the Little One spent the rest of the afternoon in the Little One's play-pin. Crayons felt so lucky that he had been chosen to watch the Little One for the rest of the day and made sure she would not cry anymore.
As the strangers were leaving, Crayons saw Dahlia unlock the doggy door, pick up his food and water bowls, and brought the bowls inside. Then she came and gave him and nice scratch on his forehead. Dahlia bent down to his level and her eyes were red from crying over Momma Jones. She said something soft and lovely to him, but he didn't know what. All he knew is that is was loving and warm. He knew then that she was loving and warm, too, and he saw Mamma Jones inside of Dahlia. She then stood up and left to walk some strangers to the door.
Crayons looked at the Little One, curled in the corner of the pin, asleep and worn out from the day. He trotted to her and flopped right down beside her. The Little One opened one eye to peek at who was there, her left eye, just like Momma Jones used to do. Then, she took her arm, pulled Crayons close to her, kissed him with her little lips right on top the head, and fell back asleep... Just like Momma Jones used to! He fell into her, into her warmth and love, and slept so peacefully that night, because he knew that this was the start of another special relationship with another human mother. Momma Jones lived on through the Little One, and Crayons could feel it in her warmth and hear it in her sighs.