"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself. "
I whistled and he broke away from Paula, pulling so hard against her arms that she tumbled to the ground.
"Good dog, Nameless," I said, patting his head. Paula called me a filthy name and pushed herself up.
"See?" she said, as she brushed snow off her clothes. "You've named him."
"I call him Nameless. By definition, I have given him a lack of a name."
"Not true. You call him that, so it's his name."
"But it describes the state of not having a name," I said.
"You can be as fancy as you want about it, city boy, but you call him something and he answers to it, that's a name," she said. "Isn't that right, Nameless?"
He lifted his muzzle and howled, auwh auwh woo. Paula gave me a smug look.
"Well, I'm not buying him a collar," I said. "I'm not going to be arrested for attempted dognapping."
"Suit yourself, I'm sure," Paula said, and then added, "Cranky."
"I'm not cranky!"
"Cranky Christopher!"
I threatened her with the shovel and she ran down the steps, laughing. "Don't sic your dog on me!"
"Go sell some hammers!"
She walked off, swaggering a little until the snowball I threw hit her in the back of the head. Then she yelped and flung one back, which gave her enough cover to escape across the street.
I left the shovel against the wall of the shop and came to stand at the top of the steps, leaning against a post. Nameless inched his way around my legs until he was curled up with his head just below my hip, shoulder pressed up to my thigh, so I gave in to the inevitable and rubbed him behind the ears with my fingertips. A couple of children, on their way home from school, waved at us as they passed. Another dog trotted by – Laurie-from-the-hotel's dog, I think – and growled briefly. Nameless laid his ears back against his head, and the dog continued onwards.
A wave of dizziness caught me off-guard just as I was about to pick up the shovel again, and I gripped the support-post tightly. A second later came the familiar feeling of panic – the too-fast beat of my heart and then arrhythmia as it tried to regulate itself. It was bad, almost as bad as it had been at Halloween, and the world tilted and spun as my chest constricted painfully. Nameless whined and nudged me with his muzzle. I was going to collapse on my own front porch --
Then my vision began to clear and the sickening spin of the world settled back into stillness. My heart had caught a rhythm again and my pulse was fast but steady in my ears.
I took a few deep breaths as my heart slowed. The cold air made my throat ache.
"I'm fine," I said, slowly releasing the post. My fingers throbbed where the edges of it had bit into them as I held myself upright. "Inside, I think, for me. I'm fine. Run along," I added, sweeping my hand in an arc towards the street. Nameless obediently stood and thumped down the steps, swatting me with his tail as he passed.
When Lucas walked in ten minutes later and seemed more attentive than usual, I didn't give it a second thought.
***
Towards mid-February, the days began to get a little warmer and I started taking walks in the morning, when I wouldn't have had many customers anyway. Once in a while I went out to The Pines to see Lucas, but more often I just made an erratic loop through the town, passing the church and then the high school, through the residential streets, across the road down to the train tracks and then up the main street, back to Dusk Books. Sometimes Nameless tagged along, or we met while I was walking and he gave up whatever canine errand he'd been on to escort me.
I'd noticed that he was a loner among the dogs of Low Ferry. They mostly ran wild during the day, an odd pack of village pets, hunting dogs, herders, and the kind of scruffy mutts that are so good at patrolling the outlying farms. I didn't think anything of it, however, until I encountered Nameless trying, and failing, to make friends.
The other dog was a smart, solid-built retriever belonging to one of the schoolteachers. Nameless had just come out of a side street and loped over to say hello; as soon as he got within five feet of the retriever, there were bared-teeth and flattened ears. Nameless, undaunted, inched forward, only to jerk back when the other dog snapped at him.
"Hey!" I called, and both dogs looked up at me. "Break it up!"
Nameless twitched his ears as far forward as they could go and started to run past the retriever, but another snarl and a snap sent him scuffling backwards. He was large enough that he probably could have subdued the other dog with a well-placed snap of his jaws, but for whatever reason he wouldn't.
"Manners," I said, getting close enough to nudge the retriever with my knee. He snapped again, more out of instinct than any real desire to hurt me, then looked abashed and sidled past, out into the street. With a last backward look and his hackles still raised, he sauntered off.
I crouched and held out my hand, palm down, and Nameless nosed it briefly before allowing me to rub the soft fuzz on the crown of his head.
"Not very popular, are you?" I asked. He butted against my fingers. "Can't win 'em all, I guess."
He followed me back to Dusk Books after that. We passed three more dogs on the way, and each time they barked at him from their yards or crossed the street to avoid us both.
"Hi!" the boy called breathlessly from my front steps, when we returned. "Hi, Nameless!"
"Afternoon," I said. "It's cold out to be stalking me."
"I just wanted some comic books," the boy answered, as I opened the door.
"You could have gone inside, in the warm."
"You weren't here."
"As if that's ever stopped anyone," I answered, picking up a slip of paper on the counter.
Christopher,
Needed change for a customer.
Left ten dollars, took all your ones
and most of your quarters.
Carmen
"Poetry," I added, pointing it out to the boy. He grinned and went to the comic-book rack. Nameless nudged him in the small of the back, and he obediently stroked the dog's shoulders as he examined the rack. "Maybe you should adopt him," I said.