Survival
A young boy is orphaned in a traffic accident, and must live with a family of dogs to survive.
I am writing this as an assignment in one of my classes, and it is pieced together from what I can remember, and articles I have found on the net regarding accidents on the road about the time I think my accident happened. Some of the details may be a little off, but I am confident that for the most part it is an accurate representation of what happened.
When I was a young boy I was involved in a severe car accident along a deserted stretch of road. Luckily I was securely strapped into my car seat when the car I was riding in was in a head on collision with a drunk driver.
The impact was severe enough that both my parents were killed instantly, and the straps securing my seat to the car were severed. The car seat flew into the air and landed a few hundred yards from the scene in a patch of long grass.
The shock of the impact must have knocked me out, because the next thing I knew it was dark, and could have been several days later based on the noises my stomach was making.
I was sore all over and had trouble moving. I could barely unbuckle the tabs on my car seat. When I finally got free, I tried to stand and ended up collapsing in the mud several times. I finally pulled together all my strength and was able to stand and limp out of the grass.
I must have been a sight, covered from head to toe in mud and blood. I had small cuts and scratches all over my body. Most of my clothing was torn to shreds, but I don't think anything was broken.
I lurched my way over to the road, and looked both ways attempting to find some sign of my parents or other adults that could help me. After a considerable search, I came upon what had to be the remains of the accident I was involved in.
There were parts of cars strewn everywhere, though the road itself looked fairly clean. Neither vehicle was anywhere to be seen. Obviously the police had investigated the scene, and not realized there was another occupant in the car. I looked back towards the grass I had come from, and couldn't see the car seat I had been trapped in at all. Since there were no other survivors, and I wasn't able to let them know I was there, they must have assumed they found everyone. I couldn't blame them; I would have come to the same conclusion.
The reason my parents had chosen to take this road was because it was seldom traveled. We would follow this route home every time we went to visit relatives, and while it added a fairly significant amount of time to the trip, my parents preferred it to the more direct route with it's stop and go traffic and almost constant accidents. Most times we made the trip, we didn't encounter any other cars. My parents felt that made the road safer. Boy, were they wrong.
Of course, that meant the chances of me finding someone to help me were slim. I had to decide wither it was better to stand there and hope a car came along, or try to find a store or house.
I looked both up and down the road again, and realized that I hadn't been able to see much from the back seat, and wasn't even sure which way we had been going, or where the closest people would be.
I chided myself for not paying more attention. But hey, what kid does. I was more interested in my iPad (okay dad's iPad) than some boring old trees anyway. I looked up to the sky, and prayed for help to get out of this, promising that I would pay more attention in the future.
I waited a few minutes for some kind of response. I didn't really expect one, but it never hurts to try. I randomly picked a direction, and started walking. It wasn't long before the combination of sore body, hunger, and darkness made me look for somewhere to stop.
It was too dark to continue safely, so I found a small group of trees where I could relieve myself. Then using what was left of my clothes, I made a makeshift nest under another tree. It wasn't long before I fell fast asleep, despite the hunger and pain.
I was awakened from a restless sleep just before sunrise by something cold and wet rubbing against my skin. After a few seconds I was able to focus my eyes enough to see a small puppy licking my feet. I could tell from the mud on its coat that it must have been sleeping up against me.
I sat up and reached out to pet the puppy. He happily came up to me and let me stroke him. Taking a good look at him, he was clearly some kind of mixed breed, I have no idea which ones, with interesting patterns in his fur.
He wasn't what you would consider the most attractive dog, and while I probably wouldn't have chosen him as a pet, I was happy to have him around for the companionship. Just his presence made me feel better.
After a few minuets of petting, my stomach started growling. I looked over at my new friend and told him we better get moving. I looked down at my old clothes, and they were so torn and covered in blood and dirt that I didn't see much point in trying to put them on again. My underwear was intact enough, and not all that dirty.
I stood up and started to walk along the road. The puppy followed, but I quickly got the feeling that he wanted me to follow him. I decided I didn't have anything to loose, so I told him to lead on.
After about 10 minutes, I found myself in front of a small opening in a rocky outcropping. Calling it a cave would have been generous. As I was standing there debating wither or not to go in, it started to rain.
The rain washed most of the last couple of days worth of grime from my skin, but I quickly got cold. The puppy glanced up at me and headed into the opening. Not having much other choice, I followed him inside. At first I had to crawl on all fours, but after a few feet the opening widened into a fairly large room.
I was pleasantly surprised by what I found inside, in the center of the room I found what could only be the pups mother and a few of her other pups. I was hesitant to approach, but as I got closer, I could almost feel the mother's love and concern washing over me. I knew that I was safe.
I crawled close to the mother and copied the other pups, snuggling up close to her. It must be what they say about the mothering instinct being universal. The mother dog took one look at me pushed some scraps of their dinner towards me, while moving a little to give me a place to share in her and the pups body heat.
I took one look at the scraps and was about to refuse them, like most people would, when my stomach took control, and I couldn't help but tear into meat. A few seconds later I had eaten every last piece, and maybe a few of the bones. I don't know what animal it had been, but at that moment it was the tastiest thing I had ever tried.
The rain lasted for the next several days. I spent them in the den with my new family. Our mother would go out from time to time to bring us some food, but mostly we huddled together to stay warm and dry.
Once the rain let up, I made my way out of the den, followed closely by my new brother. I looked around and had no idea where I was. I knew the road couldn't be that far away, but without the noise from traffic, I had no way of knowing which direction to head.
Thanks to the food and shelter mom was providing, and the stream nearby I was starting to feel more like my old self. I decided to try and find the road and make my way back to civilization, but no matter which way I walked or how far I never managed to find it. Strange, I didn't think I had walked that far.
One night, curled up with my canine family, it hit me. Why was I trying to find a way home? What was home anyway? My parents were gone, and I had no other close family. I would be shipped off to live with some aunt or uncle that I didn't even really like. Besides, I had everything I needed here. I felt at home right where I was. I decided I would stay.
I snuggled in closer, and I can't be sure, but I got the distinct impression that my new mother approved of my choice. She gave me a loving lick on the face and I fell fast asleep.
I spent the next few months living with my new mother and brothers and sisters. I learned how to hunt and how to survive in the wild as they did. I learned quickly, often doing better than my siblings.
It wasn't long before my behavior and thoughts were indistinguishable from those of my siblings. I stopped walking upright and talking. For all intents and purposes, I saw myself as a dog. I had even discarded my underwear, my last vestige of my former life.
I have no idea how much time passed, because that meant little to me, but eventually our mother decided we were old enough to be on our own. Both my siblings and I had grown and become quite proficient with hunting and the other things we would need to start our adult life.
When the day came for us to head out to start our own families, I was happy to find that my brother followed me. We had formed a strong bond, and would have been lost without each other.
After what seemed like an eternity, we found a place that we could set up our own den. It was located in an isolated place and close to plenty of prey, and fresh water, and provided good protection from the elements.
The first few weeks were uneventful. We hunted and spent most of our time exploring and marking our territory. Life was great.
Then one afternoon, I heard a noise while I was out hunting. I followed it as best I could, and found myself on the outskirts of a city. I wasn't sure what it was of course, but something in the back of my mind was drawn to it.
I must have been sitting staring at it for a while, because I didn't notice my brother come up until he licked me in the face. Even though I knew it was wrong, something compelled me to get closer to the humans. My brother hesitated, but he followed.
The next thing I knew, I had been spotted. I was the center of attention, and people were looking at me and pointing. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I knew it wasn't good, and started to run.
Not being a real dog, my running speed on all fours, while faster than most humans would have been, was nothing compared to them on two feet and cars. I was quickly captured.
I was terrified and afraid of what they might do to me. One of the humans tried to reassure me, and while her voice had a calming effect, it wasn't enough to quell the fear I was feeling.
Eventually they must have knocked me out, because the next thing I knew, I was in a cage of some kind. There were men with white coats standing outside the cage, and they would occasionally look in at me and make notes on their clipboards.
I would growl and shrink back when they came close to me. Eventually one of them brought me some food. It was a more traditional human meal, and as I ate it up, it stirred something in me.
I'm not sure how long I was in the cage, but the men worked with me each and every day. Eventually I started to regain a human identity. It was a long and tedious process learning how to walk and talk again. I wasn't sure I liked it, but I did like not having to hunt for my dinner. Heck, they even had to choose a new name for me, since I had long since forgotten my original one. They chose Ethan, which I liked okay, but I wasn't sure really fit me.
I can't say how much time passed, but they finally felt I was ready to be adopted into a family. The family was nice enough, but they never felt like my real family. They just couldn't share their love in the same way as my canine mom had. Don't get me wrong- they tried and I knew they loved me very much, they just didn't have the same kind of love to give.
They had a nice house. I was given a nice room with a TV, a computer, and even a video game system. What more could you ask for? My every need was taken care of, but something was still missing.
I was re-enrolled in school, and was doing fairly well. I had been in the wild for over two years, but thanks to tutors I was able to catch up to the other kids my age. I was adjusting well to being human again.
Whenever I could I would strip off my clothes and wonder the woods behind our house on all fours like I did when I was younger. I'm sure my adoptive parents must have seen it, but thankfully they never said anything or tried to stop me.
One afternoon, I had been enjoying the cool breezes as fall was approaching when I heard a rustling noise. I looked over and saw a dog emerge from the brush. I couldn't believe it! It was my brother!
I ran over and hugged him. He licked me in the face in return. I told him all about what had happened to me. He didn't understand of course.
I was so glad to see him I brought him back to the house to show my parents. It didn't even occur to me that I was still naked until I saw the surprised looks from my parents. I blushed a little, but explained that he was my brother and had saved my life.
My parents looked at each other, and then declared that he was part of our family as well. After a trip to the vet for a check up, shots, and a bath, my brother moved in with us. Now my family felt complete. The hole in my heart had been filled.
I frequently had to make a conscious effort to be human. I would often have to remind myself to walk upright and not on all fours. Still it's fun to let go for a while, and spend what time I could outside with my brother prowling around the wooded are in the back of the house.
Several years have passed now since I returned to human life, and even though I still continued to see the doctors regularly, I have never been able to recover most of the memories of who I was before the accident, or shed the feeling that I was a dog completely. None of that really matters, because I have settled into this life, and my brother and I are happy and loved.