How Innocent Creatures Suffer When Boys Refuse to Grow Into Men

Thanks for your support: 30% off 💙 40% off 💙 50% off 💙 60% offIt’s with a melancholy sense of fondness that I recall the neighbor’s dog Ruckus. He was a 40-pound pit bull, and he became my friend.Our neighbors moved in over a year ago. I’m too old now to make a good guess about anyone’s age. The people I meet all seem like toddlers to me. They motor through the world, accidentally breaking things. Then, they look up with soulful eyes and make a silent plea for mercy.It breaks my heart to witness their terror. I’ve neither raised my voice nor my hand, but people always look into a stranger’s face and assume the worst.Young people often look at you the same way as a dog, with round eyes filled with love. They make a silent plea for help that too often goes ignored.The struggles of a young familyEarly on it became clear that there was trouble in paradise. I came home one night to find squad cars in the driveway.“Has somebody been killed?”That’s always the first thought that goes through my mind. I parked, went into my house, and found my wife staring out the kitchen window.“What’s going on?”“Our neighbors are having some sort of domestic disturbance.”I followed her gaze and saw that the yard was covered in clothing. Usually that happens when a young man starts throwing it out the window. Our neighbor stood talking with the police, agitated. Across our yard, I could hear the officer muttering, “I know man… I know.”She left himThe girl’s mother came. She went into the house to prepare a bag. A moment later, the mother and daughter left. They took Luna with them, that was the other dog. The cops left a little while after that.The boy stayed home with Ruckus.There was a sad period of quiet that lasted a few weeks.Then, the girl returned. She moved back in. As before, Luna and Ruckus hung out in the yard. My dog, Kuzo, would see them and start to bark his silly bark. He’s not a mean boy but he has a job to do.Little by little, I got to know themEvery now and then, I’d bring Kuzo outside just as the boy brought out Ruckus. We started having semi-frequent conversations.“Sorry about my dog barking, he’s not mean,” I said.“That’s perfectly okay, dogs love sitting in their yards and barking at each other,” the boy said.I’d developed a bad feeling about him based on the incident with the police, but I realized that wasn’t entirely fair. I had to remind myself that I’ve certainly had arguments with my wife that do not represent who I am as a person. There was no evidence of physical violence, which would have been a different matter.There’s enough judgment in the world without me having to add to it.You hope that people will repent and try to do better. You hope, but it’s a slippery slope. It feels more like justice to cut them off forever, but our system favors abusers. Those of us watching can’t succumb to the temptation to fight brute force with brute force.We have to model love and understanding. We have to.Can kids even make it anymore?Young people are up to their eyeballs in stress. There’s never enough money. You can’t keep a roof over your head. Health care is impossible to afford. Of course, our young people fight with each other, our society does nothing to help them.In the summer, the boy made sure to come by to purchase lemonade from my daughters every time they put up their stand. He called me “sir” even though I repeatedly told him not to. The girl chatted with my wife from time to time.Then she began to show, and I thought it all made a bit more sense. I knew the odds were against them, but I hoped they’d make it.The air conditionerThe baby came, and the relationship seemed to work for a while. It appeared as if the boy was putting boyish things behind him and at least making an effort to do better.During a stretch of really hot days, I knocked on their door. The boy was surprised to see me.“Hi,” I said, “I’ve had this air conditioner in my garage for a year. It still works and I just took it apart and cleaned it. You can have it if you want.”The boy reached for his wallet. “How much?”“No, seriously, nothing, I’d just throw it away but I prefer to see it used because I know it still works. I also know it’s hot being at home with a baby and I thought this might make you more comfortable.”“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the boy said.From our house, I could see the air conditioner stuck in the window. It made me happy. As the days went by, I hoped that their chances grew.The happy dream of a loving family unitAbout six months ago, the girl left again. She took Luna and the baby with her. Again, the boy was left at home with Ruckus.Ruckus was a handsome boy with a solid build. He’s got that tough, pit bull face that makes you concerned if you don’t know a dog, but when you get close to him, he starts wagging his whole body. He flops himself on his back to show you his belly, and his face curls into this close-eyed smile of absolute satisfaction.It’s hard not to fall in love with a face like that.Ruckus is a good boy. My dog barked at him, but Ruckus never barked back. He just stood there confused as if wondering why the two of them couldn’t be friends.Dogs have so much love to give it’s painfulThe only time Ruckus barked was when the boy left him out, alone. I don’t know where the boy went. Maybe drinking. Maybe out for long rides on his motorcycle. This has been going on for the last few days. The absences have been getting longer.Ruckus started to whine at night, and I found I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Maybe I did the wrong thing. I still have some reflection to do.The neighbors called the police on the boy, but the police didn’t do much. I guess they have bigger problems to worry about than the suffering of a dog.I decided to model care, and I took Ruckus under my wing.Take care when falling in loveWhat are the rules about giving food, water, and shelter to your neighbor’s dog? I don’t know. All I knew was that Ruckus needed those things, so I provided them. I stopped short of unclipping him from his leash to take him for walks, but in the absence of the boy, I wanted to help.I didn’t know if the boy was coming home to see him. Maybe he came when I wasn’t around.I checked on Ruckus twice a day to make sure he wasn’t dirty or in distress. He got used to seeing me walk up. He wagged his tail, smiled, and threw himself on his back for a pet. My daughter started to come and pet him too.“He just needs some love,” she said.“All living things need love,” I replied.My wife warned us to be careful about falling in love with Ruckus. Once you call a dog by its name and give him food, he becomes a member of your family. But that’s a good thing, even if it’s only for a couple of days.“Don’t worry Mommy, we won’t fall in love.”But that’s not the kind of thing you can guard against, and I should have known better.Where was the boy?One day turned into two, two turned into three. The forecast was positive. It wouldn’t freeze. It wouldn’t rain. I’d given Ruckus a cushion, and he had shelter from the sun. He had water and food, but where was the boy?On the evening of the fourth day, I went over to see Ruckus. As always, he came bounding out from under the porch, smiling, body wagging. I gave him a scoop of dog food, I filled up the water bowl, then returned to my house.I resolved to take Ruckus to the shelter in the morning. I’d given the boy as much opportunity to do the right thing as my conscience would allow.As I walked away, I saw a pickup truck pull into the neighbor’s driveway. I thought they might have seen me returning from their yard, so I went over to explain.“I cared for him…”A man jumped out of the pickup who looked like the boy. Although he was older than the boy, to my perception, he seemed just as much a child. But there’s a difference between a man and a boy. This man was thicker, and more in control of himself. Still, I had the impression that he was dressed up for a night of dancing.We have too many boys who insist on remaining boys well into manhood.“I was just checking in on Ruckus,” I said. “I wanted to make sure that he had water.”I started feeling kind of emotional, the way you feel at a funeral. I decided not to speak anymore. Would he be angry? Was he about to start yelling me for “messing” with his dog?That which was left unspokenThe man wasn’t angry. Instead, he looked both agitated and relieved. He put his hands together as if in prayer and said, “I’m so sorry, thank you so much.”Energy crackled in the air. I found that I didn’t want to know the whole of what was going on, but the possibilities ran through my mind. Our conversation was short, but revealing.“He slipped his collar yesterday, I gathered him up,” I said.“Thank you, thank you,” the man replied. He tripped over his own words. Had he feared that he’d come only to find the dog was gone or dead?“He’s a good boy,” I said. I managed to say it without allowing my voice to crack. “He’s a very good dog.”“Yes. He is, he is a good dog,” the man said. “All he needs is a little more attention.”I nodded my agreement and I decided that was enough of the conversation. I went back into my house.For the love of a dogThroughout our talk, Ruckus was there. It was clear he recognized the man. He was barking, his tail was wagging, he was as excited and happy as I’d ever seen him.I still had concerns.I went inside and told my wife that somebody had finally come for Ruckus. My wife went upstairs and I set about getting ready for bed.When I came upstairs, I found my daughter embracing my wife, tears streaming down her face.“Didn’t I tell you?” my wife said. “Didn’t I tell you what happens when you feed a dog and pet it every day and call it by name?”My daughter nodded, but she kept crying.Sharing a sense of loss togetherLater on, my little girl felt better and I was able to hug her and talk to her too. “We don’t know that Ruckus won’t be coming back,” I said. “The important thing is that he was gathered up by somebody who loves him. He was gathered up by somebody who came looking for him, who was worried about him.”I knew what she felt. I wished we could keep him too. I’d love for him to live with us and always have a warm place to sleep and plenty of food and water and pats and love.But the dog belonged to the boy, and the boy didn’t have his life in order. I feared too for the woman and the baby who was stuck with the anchor of a boy who refused to become a man.I cuddled up with my daughter and shared her sadness. I tried to hope for the best.I won’t know how the story endsA few months ago, the boy told me that he didn’t have a chance to renew his lease.“I wanted to,” he said, “but I didn’t get back to the landlord in time.”“When are you moving out?”“May 31st.”“Well, let me know if you need help carrying boxes. You should come over for a grill before then.”His face lit up at the invitation. My thought was to talk to him, and maybe take the time to explain a few things. A moment like that can make all the difference. But I haven’t seen him since.Even though the odds are against them, I’ve decided to believe that it will all work out. I imagine the boy and the girl will patch things up. I imagine they find joy in raising their baby. I imagine Ruckus and Luna running in a big yard wearing smiles of contentment larger than their faces.It pleases me to think that the story has a happy ending. If the truth turns out to be something else, then I’d rather not know.Thanks for your support: 30% off 💙 40% off 💙 50% off 💙 60% offI'd Rather Be Writing is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to I'd Rather Be Writing at walterrhein.substack.com/subscribe