Shadow rested his head on his filthy paws, gathering his strength before he tried again to escape from this muddy pit.

  He thought of Young Pup, and he thought of Cat, and he thought of Boy.

  He was going to die down here if he could not muster the strength to get out. But he was old dog, and old dogs were not like young pups. And his paw was hurt. Each attempt made it hurt a little more.

  He wished he could see Boy one more time.

  He closed his eyes. And when he opened them, something new.

  A door in the mud. A wooden door, one that went somewhere. He got up and he whimpered, scratching at it with his good paw. The door opened, and a man was there. But he did not smell like a man.

  He smelled like a dream. A good one.

  “Come in, come in,” the man said, smiling at Shadow. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later. But I think you’d feel better if I washed you down, don’t you?”

  Shadow thought the man/dream was right, and so he followed him into a room where a large tub full of steaming, soapy water waited. Shadow had hated baths when he was younger, but he tolerated them now, and as the man scrubbed his golden fur clean, he closed his eyes and tried to pretend it was Boy who was making him clean.

  When the bath was over, the man who was a dream led him into the main room, where a tall man with Three Eyes was drinking a drink that smelled of Hops.

  “Another stray?” the three-eyed man asked.

  “He was at the door, and I turn none away,” the dream-man answered. “Do you like liver, Shadow, or would you prefer chicken or lamb?”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Shadow’s mouth watered, and he thought of the canned food that he sometimes got. The Innkeeper pulled out a can from behind the shelf and began opening it. Shadow wagged his tail, sitting and waiting patiently to be served.

  Even though he ate like he had not eaten in days, the bowl of the precious meat did not empty. But his stomach grew full. If he was a young pup he might have kept going until he vomited it up, but he was old dog and he knew when to stop. Next he drank from the bowl of water that the dream man set before him, and, looking up at the man for permission, he went over into the corner of the room, where a warm fire was burning. He curled up and went to sleep.

  He wondered, just for a second, if this was death.

  And then he dreamed of Boy.

  ***

  “So how does a dog pay his tab?” Uttico asked, drinking spiritual ale and watching as the dog that had wandered in twitched in his sleep.

  “There are many ways to tell a story,” the Innkeeper answered. And do not forget. I began as a Dream.”

  ***

  Shadow dreamed of the good days, when he was small and boy was small and throwing sticks and sleeping at foot of bed.

  Shadow dreamed of Cat and he Dreamed of the day when Young Pup came home as Younger Pup. He dreamed of boy growing tall and Shadow realizing he was becoming Old Dog.

  He dreamed of day Boy told him that he was going away, and he dreamed of trying to come home. The adventure was long. It was dangerous. They were lost, but they never gave up.

  Even when Shadow fell in pit of mud, he never, ever gave up.

  And then Door.

  And he dreamed of good days, when he was small and Boy was small and throwing sticks.

  ***

  Shadow groaned, a tired groan of waking up as the dreams faded and he woke up feeling better than before being lost.

  The fire was burning pleasantly, and he was warm. Someone was scratching behind his ears. He looked up to see a stranger.

  “Where’d you get the dog?” Jace asked. Shadow sniffed him, and he smelled of elsewhere. Scents completely foreign and strange, as though the man came from a different world.

  “He’s not mine. He wandered in, and I was just waiting for him to wake up to send him home to his Boy,” the man who smelled.

  Shadow picked his head up. Home? He was going Home?

  “There’s some food left for you, Shadow, if you’re hungry,” the dream-man said. Then you can leave the way you came. You can find your way home from there. You were so very, very close already. You just needed a little help.”

  Shadow ate, and he drank, and he walked out of the door.

  He was not in pit.

  He was in forest, in back yard, where he and Boy had played when smaller.

  “Shadow!” he heard Boy’s voice. “Shadow, come home!”

  And Shadow went home.