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As Liam told it, the puppies found him. He wandered through the park after school and wouldn't have seen them hiding, but it was like they knew he was an alright sort; shaking, bony, one brown and one white, they ran out from the cover of the dying bushes straight to his feet. They'd chosen well. He was immediately suckered, sacrificing his jacket to wrap them up and carry them home. They whined so high it sounded like whistling but they didn't try to get away from him. And that was that: Liam couldn't let them go.
Instead of greeting him at home, Noel stared. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something stern and the brown one yawned as it looked at him. Noel moved out of the doorway and let Liam and his charges inside.
“Noel, get us the Weetabix,” Liam called, already halfway upstairs.
“What for?” Noel said faintly, trailing slowly behind. Until Mam came home, this was his problem, Paul at his girlfriend’s and useless besides.
“They’re hungry. You can see their bones, Noely. The girl bit me already.”
Noel grimaced. “You bleed?”
“No! She’s good, she didn’t bite hard. She just thought my finger was food.”
Noel joined Liam in the bathroom where the boy was already running a bath.
“They don’t eat Weetabix, William. They need meat, or maybe milk… I don’t know how old they are.”
“Oh. Not at all?”
“No. And turn that off. It’s got to be shallow or they’ll drown.”
Liam listened to him, blessedly. He sniffed the dirty white dog while it sniffed him back. Noel kneeled by the tub and took the brown dog. He lifted it, saw its penis and all the dirt worked into the fur of its legs and belly. Little lesions on its back, too. It squirmed and panted and rubbed at Noel’s hands like it felt no pain at all.
He put it into the water, lukewarm and standing two inches high. He scrubbed it with his palm, scooping water up and sweeping it down the dog’s body. Next to him, Liam observed his movements and copied them carefully with the white female.
“I can’t think of any names.”
“Good. We’re not keeping them.”
Liam turned to scowl at him, but his hands stayed gentle, scraping and petting the mud off the girl.
“You don’t make the rules, Mam does.”
“And she’s going to say no.”
“She won’t… I love them. She’s got to let me keep them. They can’t go back, it’s getting colder out every day.” Liam convinced himself this logic would hold under any scrutiny. “He can be Charlie, and she’ll be Mary. What do you think?”
“Human names. Should be Spot or Fido or summat.”
“That’s stupid. I like mine better.”
The little boy licked Noel’s thumb, puppy-sharp teeth scraping along, almost suckling. Noel huffed and said a mental goodbye to the thing.
“It’s not up to me… Let’s see what your father says, William.”
Liam deflated at that. He knew better than to hope for goodwill from the big man they organized their life around. “But then where will they go?”
“There’s a home for lost dogs in Harpurhey. I think they legally have to take any strays.”
“And they’ll be taken care of and someone will play with them and make sure they’re okay?” Liam tried to be okay with this, but the long pause before Mam said yes gave away her lie. Whatever the home for lost dogs held for little Charlie and Mary, it wouldn’t be good.
Maybe if Liam hid them, he could say they got out, who knows where. They could live in the closet.
Only then Da came home and shocked them all by saying he didn’t care about the dogs. Or rather, he gave up a high-handedly benevolent lecture about learning responsibility and what it took to take care of living things around the dinner table. It would be good for William, he said, since Tommy himself took care of dogs as a lad; it came naturally along with being raised on farmland in Ireland. He didn’t know many families that didn’t have one or several back there. But he stressed that he’d not want to see any mess, looking not at Liam but Peggy, who nodded gravely.
It wasn’t that Noel wanted Liam to be disappointed. But if it had been him who brought stray dogs home off the street, they’d never have kept them. Peggy would have spared Noel the wishing she let her youngest keep hold of and told him plainly to put the things back where they came from.
They divided responsibilities how Noel expected. Peggy bought scraps at the butcher’s alongside their usual cheap cuts of meat, and made clear they were not to be giving the puppies any scraps of human food. Then they cleaned out Liam and Noel’s closet, storing the clothes and towels and years-old nonsense in a big plastic container instead. Once empty, Peggy and Noel taped down a plastic tarp. Their oldest, holiest towels went on top of it. This was where the puppies slept at night, curled together in a tight circle, whuffling at the good choices they’d made to end up in such a warm and fed place as this.
In the early mornings Liam was an alarm clock, excited to do his job of portioning Charlie and Mary their bowls of slimy, fatty meat. He woke Noel so he could do his own duty: scraping up the puppy shit, wiping up the piss, washing the towels separate from all other laundry. Suppose Liam considered their two parts equal work, and he didn’t understand why Noel wasn’t just as eager to wake up and attend to the dogs. And the most Paul had to do was let them outside when he was home to do it.
They were cute, for all of that. Needed wiping down most mornings because they were too stupid not to lay in their own waste, stepping in it till it was even stuck between their toes. Repulsive, but then they were all wagging tails and pawing at Noel and Liam equally, and he couldn’t pretend to hate them. The girl liked to give love-nips to fingers or ankles, whichever it could reach. The boy went belly-up anytime someone got close because it had learned no one resisted giving it a scratch, not even stubborn, unaffectionate Noel.
Two months went by. The puppies’ skin healed and their fur smoothed till they were glossy as showdogs. They learned more or less to relieve themselves only in the closet or outside and not on the floor everywhere else, which was a relief because constantly airing out the bedroom so late in autumn to rid the smell of urine had given the room a permanent chill.
They began to scrape their nails against the inside of the closet doors, lonely to come out, keeping Noel up late even with a pillow over his head. Mysteriously it stopped one night—only for Noel to realize the next morning that Liam had let them sleep in his bed. But they were bathroom trained enough that there was no reason to stop him, so that was how it stayed.
When he came home in a good mood, Da asked Liam how his dogs were doing, if he’d been training them. Nothing more.
Noel and Liam realized it at the same time, giving the girl a bath: her belly was swollen. Their eyes met, like Do you think…? But when they compared her to her brother, it was undeniable. He was fat from pork, chicken, and lamb throw-aways, but his stomach stuck out only half as far.
"There's summat wrong with Mary!” Liam told Mam the second she walked in the house.
She took the offered dog into her hands, who went limp and let herself be inspected.
“I’m not an expert, but she was out on the street. She could have worms, maybe.” What Mam didn’t say was that she had no money to send her to the vet.
Noel waited till he could get Mam alone to ask her what they’d do.
She sighed, helpless. “There’s one of those spay-and-neuter clinics near enough we could at least ask, but I don’t know what it’ll cost. If they even do worms, and if it even is worms and not a tumor or summat else. I don’t know when I can get off work early, either…”
“I’ll go tomorrow. I’ve got a bit saved up, maybe it’ll be enough.”
“Oh, Noel. You’re a good lad.”
He looked down. “Thanks, Mam.”
Noel took the girl in a bag, swaddled in a blanket. She fussed, so he kept a continually petting hand on her little head so she wouldn’t bother the folks on the bus down to the clinic. She’d grown heavier, harder to carry for too long. Had more teeth than she did when Liam found her.
He waited on a lobby chair with the dog on his lap for a half-hour before he was able to consult with a veterinarian, foot tapping the whole time. She’d still never seemed unhappy or in pain. Wouldn’t you feel worms in your stomach? And she was warmer than she was a month before, Noel felt sure of it.
A tall older man with white hair dressed in scrubs led him into a small room and gestured for him to put his girl on the metal table to be looked at.
“So! I’m Dr. Walsh, it’s good to meet you, Mr. Gallagher. Are we looking to set up a spay or a neuter today?”
“Um, maybe, I don’t know how old she is or if she should—mostly I want to know if she’s alright because her stomach’s been getting bigger. Within the last three weeks, but it happened slowly so we didn’t notice it at first.”
“Hmm, let’s see. This isn’t a comprehensive vet clinic, I have to warn you, so I can’t be doing tests or giving her x-rays or anything; you’ll have to go somewhere else for that. But I can look and tell you what I think. What’s the name of this lady?”
“Er… Mary.”
Dr. Walsh gently pried open her mouth, smiling when she licked him. “Mary’s quite young. With her teeth, I’d put her at six months. But it looks like…” He massaged her belly, eyes blankly staring up like he was imagining the picture of her organs, a human ultrasound machine. “Ah. Yes. I would have told you this is the youngest age we’d consider spaying her, but that you could wait a while more, but you’ve found yourself a medical rarity. Don’t blame yourself; their first heats can be very hard to spot. I’m sorry to tell you you’ve come too late, because Mary’s already pregnant.”
“But she can’t be, she’s only been with her brother.”
The vet smiled a little awkwardly. “I’m afraid dogs just don’t think of it that way. It’s unfortunate but not uncommon when litters are kept together, unfixed.”
“What should… What should I do?”
“You should take her to a general vet so they can see if the pregnancy is healthy. Or if you decide it’s best, it may be possible to terminate the pregnancy and spay her all in one surgery. That option tends to be more expensive.”
Noel stopped the dog from jumping off the table, taking her into his arms numbly. “Do you know if there are any animal shelters in this city that don’t just put them down, like?”
Dr. Walsh frowned. “Oh, I—If she were a different breed, there’s many rescues that specialize in the purebred types and work on rehoming, but she’s a mixed terrier of some kind, yes? There’s so many of them wandering the streets—it’s my understanding that the space is just not there to keep all of them without good reason.”
“She’s sweet. She’d make a good pet.”
“It may be best if you ask around for anyone who’s looking to take a dog in for free, then. I’m sorry.”
“It’s because I named her Mary,” Liam said. “She’s got dog-Jesus in her belly.” (Noel had replied: If that’s true, either there’s two or three Jesuses, or he’s going to have some jealous siblings.)
Mam swore. “I didn’t even think they could do that early. Have Charlie’s balls even dropped? But they must have. Fucking shite… Maybe a neighbor of ours would want a puppy. Christmas coming up and all, I don’t know. I’ll ask.”
Mam donated an old blanket to make the closet a nest where the girl could give birth when the time came, and it was coming soon. Mam struck up conversations with friends and acquaintances and strangers alike, saying she’d be having a couple puppies soon and needed good homes for them, claiming it was some stray that got the dog up the duff and not her own littermate. Still, Peggy couldn’t lie about the lack of good breeding because anybody could see them and know they were mutts.
The air of expectation filled the house. Paul looked at her more curiously than he had before, sometimes trying to feel the babies inside of her ballooned tummy. Liam dragged his feet going to school every day, worried Mary would give birth early and he’d miss the excitement. Noel on the other hand checked on her hourly because he worried she’d give birth and that her small body wouldn’t be able to handle it and would tear right apart.
Tommy came home eventually. It had been a while, as lately he stayed with the girlfriend he pretended not to have more nights than he slept next to his lawfully-wedded wife. But even a man as oblivious as him could tell there was something on the minds of all the occupants of the house save for him.
Peggy couldn’t hide it from him. She told him with a curatedly-casual tone, “Our little Mary is pregnant. She’ll be going in a week or two, now. I know we don’t have space for any more animals, but I’m finding someone to take them in. They’ll not be here long.”
“Inbred street dogs? You won’t be able to pay anyone to take them. I told those boys—I told them they’d be responsible for the damn things. No, forget the shite rich city idiots come up with about dog welfare charities and that, there’s an easy fix for this.” He set off slow and sure of his destination up the stairs.
“Tommy, don’t.”
He wasn’t angry, and he didn’t look back when he said, “Don’t you start with me, woman.”
Noel heard the water start in the bathroom. He untensed, thinking his Da was going for a bath, and a minute later tensed again when those weighty footsteps went out the bathroom and to Noel’s door. He opened the door like he had a right to and came inside, heading straight for the closet. This too he tore open and grabbed each dog by the scruff.
“You’re not supposed to hold them like that,” Noel said, strained and trying to sound halfway respectful.
Da didn’t even acknowledge the disrespect. He pushed past Noel like he wasn’t there, carrying the puppies to the bathroom with the bathtub he’d just filled for a solid two minutes.
Noel followed. A sick feeling rose in his throat. “What are you doing to them?”
“Boy,” Tommy says, “Let me tell you something. There are a thousand strays in this city alone and you won’t be helping anyone by making more. No, you gone and made a litter of dogs to die on the street with all the rest. What you do when you’ve got more’n you know what to do with is, you get rid of some.”
“No, stop it! The shelter can take them, don’t hurt them. D-D-Don’t—”
“You don’t tell me what to do, son. When I tell you something I expect a yessir. Christ, was it raising you in this country made you a little pansy, or has your mother spoiled you too much? Back home I didn’t know a family that didn’t get rid of the runts and do it with a smile on their face. Now I’ll do it or you will, but it’ll get done,” Tommy said matter-of-factly. Despite his own words, he wasn’t smiling, not taking delight in it how he sometimes got when he’d hurt Noel. Without further ado he lifted the male in the air and pushed him under the water, holding him still.
The girl was wary. She’d never interacted with Tommy before and she was confused at being carried so roughly, but she wasn’t distressed. She looked around and sniffed at the side of the tub.
Noel was frozen. He could spit, swear, grit his teeth when it was him alone. But it wasn't him this time, not Mam or Paul either. It was his little brother’s dogs. His pounding heartbeat kept the time and spelled out clearly it’d been too long that the male was submerged. And he must’ve stopped struggling, because Da pulled him out of the water limp and soggy. His head hung straight down, lifeless, collapsing on the tile in a heap of brown fur and dripping a puddle where Da put him down. Noel couldn’t breathe.
The female went to sniff her brother and Tommy grabbed at her scruff again.
“Stop! Stop it, I’ll do it, don’t hurt her.” The words didn’t sound like words, they sounded like gasps, but Da heard him clear enough.
Noel hated crying. Hated it more than anything, but he couldn’t see for the tears in his eyes. His father grunted and moved to stand in the doorway, arms crossed. Exit blocked. “Go on.”
Noel knelt by his girl and stroked her soft head. He was shaking. She didn’t know her brother was gone; she abandoned her littermate’s body to push her wet nose in his palm and wagged her tail. He was going to throw up. He lifted her as gently as he could with her gawky legs and big stomach, placed her in the bath like he was going to wash her and the water was just too high. She started to try to swim. Noel sucked in a hysterical breath and pressed her down under, one hand on her middle and one on her head.
She fought him, squirming and thrashing and pawing. Da said, “You want a good grip on the back of her neck or she’ll bite you.” With one hand Noel tried to get her scruff but she was wet and slippery and he fumbled it. She did bite his palm then, hard. With all the adrenaline and nausea running through him he couldn’t feel the pain at all. No room for it. He was drowning too, gasping and hearing nothing but ringing and soft water splashing.
Mam did something with their bodies outside, Noel didn’t know what. She wanted them far out of sight so Liam wouldn’t throw a fit when he found out. Noel drained the water from the tub and cleaned up what spilled on the floor. He threw away all the bedding in the closet and ripped up the plastic lining, too. He didn’t want to see any of it again. His hand throbbed. He laid in bed and everything was quiet until Liam, tired from playing with friends, shuffled in the room.
He poked around for a minute, and Noel said nothing.
Liam opened the closet door. Mam must not have intercepted him and explained. Finally it came: “Noely? Where’s Charlie and Mary? Did it finally happen? Are they okay?”
Noel tried to get his voice to come out even. “The family that Mam got to take her puppies… They wanted Charlie and Mary too. I’m sorry.”
Liam was on him in an instant, hitting him with kid fists, speaking through tears that wracked his whole body. “They’re mine! You didn’t even let me say goodbye! They’re my dogs, not yours, and not some stranger’s! Give them back!”
Noel kept his eyes shut and didn't move. He was done crying, he told himself.
Once Liam calmed himself down, tired enough he mirrored Noel’s slump into bed, Noel saw him out of the corner of his eye stroking the blanket he buried himself in.
“It’s still got their fur on it,” he whispered to Noel.