The Rescue

By Shari Wilder

Originally printed in The Talon, Volume 9, 2024

The air was a cool and rainy for a September evening and a small fire was burning in the

hearth to warm the house. Atlas, a tan and black wire coat terrier, laid on the fluffy light green

rug in the corner of the living room located at 13 Thurloe Place in Kensington. The man of the

house, Charles, was in his leather chair across the room reading the paper, as usual. The lady of

the house, Sophie, was sitting on the rose chair across from him and was busied with her

knitting. Tosh, a gray British shorthair cat, was on the floor in front of her watching the yarn

intently as the lady knitted back and forth.

Not many brains, that one. Too easily entertained, thought Atlas. He watched the lady

knit, the man read the paper, and the cat observing the yarn. The smell of shortbread that Sophie

had baked earlier hung in the air. Yes, this was alright, even if he had to share the house with

Tosh now. Let the lady have her pet. Atlas was Charles’ pet and Tosh knew well that he was the

head of this house. At the age of five, one was considered the elder after all. He closed his eyes

and tried to drift off to sleep.

The BBC radio droned on in the background. Lately, the talk had seemed to concern the

lady, but Charles always kept her as calm as possible. Atlas didn’t know why they even bothered

to listen if it would upset them so much. Seemed counterproductive to listen to something

distressing right before bedtime, but it was their decision. What was said seemed inconsequential

to Atlas anyway. All this talk of a war in Germany. Yet, the lady was continually in tears, and

they always listened night after night to what was said on the radio. This evening was no

different to Atlas than any other night so far. More talk of war, this time in Poland, and such

human nonsense that he could not be bothered to really care. Why men fought wars was beyond

his imagination. He opened his eyes for just a second. Tosh was still staring at the yarn but now

relaxed laying on the rug.

“And now we will hear from a member of the Air Raid for Precautions from Animals

Committee. Yes, thank you.” A different male voice came from the radio.

“Due to food shortage from new war efforts, we are recommending all pets be sent to a

home in the country. If you do not have anyone you can send them to, the kindest thing to do is

have your pets euthanized.” Atlas opened his eyes wide at this. Did he hear it right or had he

fallen asleep?

“It really is the best that you can do to avoid them starving or possibly being injured in a

bomb strike,” said a woman’s voice.

“Oh, my goodness!” the woman Sophie exclaimed. “Charles! Whatever will we do?”

Charles calmly replied without even glancing up from the paper, “We will do what is required of

course.”

“Maybe your brother in Yorkshire can take them?” she asked.

“He doesn’t need two more mouths to feed. I will take care of this tomorrow or the next

day.” He replied.

The woman started crying hysterically and put her knitting down in the basket beside the

chair. Tosh stared at the basket completely oblivious to the situation. Atlas practically rolled his

eyes. The woman kept crying and went upstairs for the night. The man sat in his chair for a few

more minutes as he continued to peruse the paper, but he had shut the radio off at some point. As

Atlas was lost in thought the man turned down the lights and went upstairs to bed.

Would the man really betray me like this? thought Atlas. Yet, the man had said to the

lady that he would. Tosh was trying to open the basket now to get to the yarn. If she did, the

woman wouldn’t cry about losing Tosh after she destroyed whatever the lady was working on.

What about Duchess next door? His thoughts wondered then to every dog and cat on the street.

Yelling was coming from upstairs. The lady was frantic by now.

“They can go to a rescue, maybe the one in Barking. I’m sure the neighbors will be

taking their pets to one if possible. Clara would never do this to her pets,” the lady said.

“It’s not worth the risk. What if it gets bombed? Then they will die anyway.” The man

said. “I know this is difficult, but the authorities are right, Sophie. I’ll get you another cat after all

this is over.”

Atlas looked at Tosh, “Do you even hear what they are saying?” The feline kept her paw

on the basket but turned her head to look at Atlas.

“I never listen as it’s never important or fun,” replied Tosh.

“Typical. I should just let them take you tomorrow,” he said.

“Take me where? The vet?” replied Tosh.

“I’m guessing that is where they will be destroying the animals,” said Atlas.

“D... destroy?” asked Tosh puzzled.

“Put to sleep. Death. You really should pay more attention.” Atlas shook his head. “I’m

going out the door to see if Duchess is outside.”

“I’m coming too.”

“If you must but keep quiet and don’t lose it like the lady did,” said Atlas.

Tosh let out a small hiss at those words but followed Atlas out the back flap. Per the

usual evening and just as Atlas thought, he found the neighbor in her backyard. Duchess, a black

and tan shepherd mix, was playing with a frog. Contrary to her name, she often did unappealing

things of this nature. Atlas considered himself beneath playing with frogs. That was for puppies

or dogs with no brains or rank.

Duchess glanced toward Atlas and noticed Tosh. “Hi, Tosh! Want to help me catch this

frog?” she wagged her small black tail.

“As fascinating as catching a frog is,” Atlas said, “We have serious matters to discuss.

I’m assuming you didn’t hear the radio broadcast. I’m sure Tosh didn’t hear it even though she

was right in the room.” He looked accusingly at Tosh.

“Well, pardon me for trying to have a bit of fun. You’re so tense. I wish Duchess lived

with me and you lived next door.”

“If you don’t listen and take heed, you won’t ever have fun again,” replied Atlas.

“What are you talking about, old chap?” asked Duchess.

“I beg your pardon. Five is hardly old,” said Atlas. He then explained to them what he

heard, how they needed to leave right away, and go to a place called Barking Rescue.

“What about the dog catcher?” asked Duchess. “If he catches us then they may kill us

anyway.”

“Life,” began Atlas as he raised his head high and put a paw to his chest, “is sometimes

about risks. One must weigh the options in times like these when humans have become

irrational. The way I see it, we can either stay and for sure die or leave and possibly make it to

Barking.”

“Do you even know how to get to Barking?” asked Duchess.

“Of course I do!” Atlas seemed put out. “What is my name?”

“Atlas, but that doesn't mean...,” said Duchess.

“Of course it does. I have a nose for direction, that’s what. They wouldn’t have named

me Atlas if I didn’t,” he said.

“Okay, well I guess we risk it then,” said Tosh.

“I am going to sound the alarm right now. Those who want to join us are more than

welcome.” At this Atlas went to stand on a bench towards the back of the yard and began to

bark. When Atlas felt he had done his duty, he left the bench and walked to the gate.

“But how do we get out of the fence?” asked Duchess.

“Must I do everything?” asked Atlas. He used his nose to push the latch upward then

pushed on the gate. It opened and he was followed out by Tosh.

“I could have just jumped over, you know,” she said. “Dogs are so limited by what they

can physically accomplish.” Atlas turned and glared at her. “Sorry, sorry. Just an observation,”

said Tosh.

Duchess opened her gate and the three of them walked down to the street.

“So which way do we go?” asked Tosh.

“Follow me,” Atlas said as he turned left to go eastward.

Atlas led them onward for hours and now the sun was coming up behind the houses.

People exited their front door to retrieve the paper, and some were walking their dogs down the

lane. There was a chill in the air, not only from the cold, but from the atmosphere of impending

war. The trio trudged along determined to find their destination and haven.

After walking awhile, they came upon a store with a line of people either holding their

pets or with them on a leash beside them. The line went around the corner of the building. 

A man exited the door and yelled, “I’m sorry. No dog biscuits today. We must start rationing supplies”

Then he placed a sign outside the door. 

One woman was crying, “I just wanted to get her one last biscuit.” Another woman was consoling her.

“That’s rotten luck,” said Duchess. “I could really have used a biscuit or two right now.”

Atlas and Tosh nodded in agreement.

“Yes, this has been quite the journey, and we missed breakfast,” said Tosh.

As the people and animals were leaving, Atlas decided to warn the dogs about what was

happening. 

After a moment, he started barking, “We are heading to the rescue at Barking. The

humans are planning to either ship you lot off or destroy you all due to the war.”

An Airedale to the left of them laughed, “You know it’s all a conspiracy theory, lad?” He

continued walking away beside his owner who gave the trio a dubious look.

A little black and brown terrier mix on the street came up to them, “Hey, I couldn’t help

but overhear. Is this true?” he asked.

“Don’t be daft,” said Tosh. “You really think I’d leave my cozy home if it wasn’t?”

“I can tell you are all from a nice place, so I believe you. Leaving that life for a

conspiracy doesn’t make sense. I live on the streets. Name’s Prancer. I guess I’ll be okay.”

“You should come with us,” said Atlas. “Food will be scarce even on the streets. We are

going to a rescue.”

“What’s a rescue?” asked Prancer.

“A place that won’t put you to sleep and feeds you,” said Duchess.

“You should come along,” said Tosh. “Why risk getting caught by the dog catcher or not

having food.”

“Speaking of dog catcher... you should probably get going. He comes down this street

every morning,” said Prancer.

“How have you not been caught yet then?” asked Duchess.

“I know all the hiding spots,” said Prancer. “You better follow me. I know a location you

will all fit in.”

Atlas followed even though he liked being the one in charge. What he didn’t like was dog

catchers. Prancer led them down the street for a couple of blocks.

“Stop. Listen.” Said Prancer. “He’s early.”

“Huh?” asked Tosh.

“The dog catcher. I can hear the motor. I know the sound by now.”

“Am I safe since I’m a cat?’ asked Tosh.

“Are you bonkers?” asked Atlas. “Of course you’re not.” He shook his head.

The dog catcher vehicle turned the corner and onto the street in front of them.

“Follow me!” said Prancer and he bolted down a side street. Atlas followed but they had

been spotted. The car followed them down the street keeping pace. Prancer led them down an

alley. The four dogs and one cat ran as fast as they could down the alley to another street. Men

were heading to work now and there was a lot of traffic. They saw the dog catcher vehicle and he

had spotted them again.

“Quick this way!” said Prancer. He ran down a grassy hill to a large drainage tunnel.

“Hide in here,” he said. “I’ll lead him away and come get you when it’s safe.”

Not having any choice, they walked inside the damp tunnel. Dirty water covered the

bottom, and it was cold. Prancer ran back up the hill.

“I hope this doesn’t take long,” said Tosh. “I’m tired and I can’t lie in this filthy place.”

“What if he doesn’t make it back?” asked Duchess.

“He will,” said Atlas.

“How do you know?” asked Tosh.

“He’s experienced on the streets. He also knows the area. Besides, we aren’t staying here

forever. If he doesn’t come back soon, we will have to leave anyway. We must get to the

rescue.”

They were silent for a few seconds as they waited. They heard tires squealing, horns, and

then a crash.

“Oh no,” said Duchess. “You don’t think?” But she didn’t finish her thought.

“Poor chap,” said Atlas. “He sacrificed himself for us.” He started howling followed by

Duchess. Tosh couldn’t howl, but she meowed as loud as she could.

“What are you doing?” They looked to see Prancer at the end of the tunnel.

Tosh ran up to him, “You’re not dead?” she asked.

“Course not!” he replied as he panted.

“But we heard a crash,” said Atlas.

“Yes, well, the dog catcher was driving too fast. That’s hardly my fault, is it? Anyway,

it’s safe to come out now,” said Prancer.

They all sighed with relief.

“I’m going to sleep for days after this,” said Tosh. They all nodded in agreement. Even

Atlas nodded as he was looking around to get his bearings and the way to the rescue. They were

in some sort of park. He looked across the grass and there on the other side was a building where

people were walking in with their pets. Atlas cautiously led the group up closer to the front of the

structure.

“Is this the rescue?” asked a man to a woman.

“Yes, it is,” she replied.

“Oh, thank God. I’m that chuffed I found it. Drove all the way from Wembley, I did.”

“By Jove,” said Atlas. “We made it.”

“What? That place is the rescue?” asked Prancer.

"Didn’t you know?” asked Atlas.

“No,” said Prancer. “I assumed it was a vet with the way animals were going in and out.

Wasn’t going to get close to that place.”

“Well, you may as well come with us. You’re part of the group now,” said Duchess.

“Really? I’ve never been part of a group before. You mean we can be friends?” said

Prancer.

“Yes,” said Tosh. “We should all stick together,”

“Let’s go,” said Atlas. They all walked up to the lady at the door who glanced down at

them.

“What have we here?” she asked with a smile. “You lot looking for a place to stay? I

must say you look plum worn out,” She crouched down and petted each of them. “Well, you can

come with me. It’s warm inside and I’ll get you something to eat and drink. You’ll have your

own beds as well. How does that sound, eh?” 

Atlas, Duchess, and Prancer wagged their tails as Tosh rubbed against her legs while quietly purring. 

The lady opened the door for them, and they followed her into the Barking Rescue.