Read Nobody's Dog for Free Online

says the worst injuries come into Emerg on a full moon. It’s like something happens to people’s brains — they act crazier than normal. And animals do too. The coyotes come out of Mahon Park and howl at the full moon.
    Out on the street, something catches my eye. It’s a dog, a big grey and white one, trotting along the sidewalk. It stops to sniff a metal pole and then pees on it.
    I open my window to see better and the frame creaks. The dog hears it, pricks his ears.
    â€œPsst.” I stick my head out the window. “Over here.”
    The dog turns and fixes his eyes on me. His tail wags alittle. Just at the white tip. There’s no one else around, no owner that I can see.
    Something inside me makes a decision. Actually, it’s someone: J, the guy who tried the highest rails on my skateboard and told Grant the dirtiest jokes. J says it’s time to go. I close my window and grab my hoodie from the closet. It’s not cold out, but I feel better having it. The hair on my neck stands up as I shuffle down the hall and take the quietest route through the kitchen to the back door. The floors are old and creaky and even though Aunt Laura’s not here, I don’t want Soleil or Libby to hear me. I grab my key from the bowl, close the door as slowly as I can and lock it behind me. The steps down from the deck are creaky too, so I take the first two and then jump past the rest, onto the crusty grass. There are no lights on in Soleil’s place.
    My skin feels cool and prickly. It’s finally happening. No more running around while I’m asleep. I sneak around the side of the house and open the gate. But what if the dog’s gone — or what if I imagined him? A memory flashes through my mind so fast I can’t catch it. It seems really familiar somehow, watching a dog out at night, but I can’t think why. Maybe it’ll come to me if I find him.
    When I get to the pole I saw him pee on, he’s not far away, sniffing in our neighbour’s flowerbed. He looks like a wolf, but I’m sure he’s a husky. A girl in my grade seven class had one and it looked like this. Black and grey on top and white on the belly, with face markings like a wolf, and a grey tail with a white tip. His ears are black and they stick straight up, like fuzzy triangles. I want to feel how soft they are. Huskies sometimes come into the shelters, but lately they’ve been adopted really fast. I had one, Rex, on my list last month but he was gone in two days.
    I stand there waiting, watching to see if he’ll run when he sees me, but he keeps sniffing, and his tail starts to wag like he’s found something good.
    I walk closer. He scratches the dirt with his paw and pees on the spot. When he’s finished he looks really proud of himself and turns around to face me, like he knew I was there all along. We stare at each other.
    â€œHi,” I say.
    He smells the air.
    â€œWhere are you going?” I ask. I look back at my house to make sure no lights are on. Everything is quiet, except for one or two cars passing on the main road a few streets over.
    The dog turns and walks down the sidewalk, slowly, not like he’s running away, but like he’s going for a stroll. I follow. He stays in front of me, sniffing the grass and flowers, but I get the feeling he’s sensing me too. When he gets to the corner, he waits.
    â€œCan I come?” I ask. It’s pretty stupid to ask a dog questions. “I’m J,” I say, because that’s who I’ll be tonight. I’m not Jakob Nobody or Jakob Nebedy. Not even J-man. I’m J, and tonight I’m going to do whatever I want.
    The dog looks up the street and then crosses. We leave my house behind.
    We walk down the middle of the boulevard, along the street that leads to the grocery store and then down the hill, toward the harbour. I haven’t been out this late since my dad took me camping in Manning Park