"Momma Jones and the Little One"




Crayons nudged his human mother, the Widow Jones, with his cold nose. Momma Jones was usually up by now, but she hasn't woken up yet. Crayons' bladder was hurting in a way that made him rush around in a panicked manner, with his little nub-tailed butt wagging. He needed his walk, so Crayons nudged her with his nose.


Nothing happened, Momma Jones didn't wake up.


Crayons manages to get his nerves to cooperate for a moment, jumped up on the quilted bed next to her, and licked Momma Jones all over the nose. Still, though, she wouldn't wake up.


How strange, Crayons has been with Momma Jones for four years now, since he was a puppy, and she never didn't wake up when he asked her to. What was this? What was wrong?


Frantic, now, and still having to go make, Crayons yelped for help. He was worried. He ran around the small apartment in circles, making it to the kitchen. His tiny claws tapping the cheaply installed tile floor, and his brown shaggy paws getting all wet as he accidentally ran through his relief.


Oh, no. Crayons hoped no one would punish him for making in the kitchen.


Crayons screamed, "Help me, please, help Momma Jones," but he knew the neighbors would only hear yelps and woof-woofs. Some of the other dogs around heard his cries, and tried to alert their human parents, but no one understood. No one knew that Momma Jones had passed in her sleep.




For two whole days, Crayons had no one to fill his food bowl, or his water bowl. For two whole days Crayons put his little front paws on that toilet lid, raising himself above and over to keep from going thirsty, his little back paws tippy-toeing onto the tips of his little claws for balance. For two whole days, Crayons made in the same spot so no one would get too mad at him. For two whole days, Crayons spent his days laying next to and cuddling with his lifeless Momma Jones, hoping he could warm her back to life with his heat... Or at least get to lie next to her for a little while longer before somebody took her away. Somebody is coming for her, right? Someone will realize that this kind, providing woman isn't part of the Earth anymore?


The phone rang at least once an hour, and every time the answering machine picked up, and every time Crayons heard the voice of Dahlia, Momma Jones' human daughter. Crayons recognized the voice, but did not know what she was saying. In the beginning, when he heard Dahlia, he would cry and yelp, thinking maybe she could hear him and go get help, but after two whole days, he knew better than that.


Finally, Crayons began to hear a panic in Dahlia's voice as she spoke. This comforted him, because maybe she would come to look for her mother and be able to help him. The panic in Dahlia's voice made Crayons whimper softly, just hoping someone would come to save the both of them. Locked in a room with no voice of his own and no means of survival, Crayons was doomed.




Finally, at the end of day two, as the sun is setting, there's a knock on Momma Jones' apartment door! What to do, oh what to do?! Crayons cocked his head, and raised his ears towards the sound. He barked and barked, and stood up on all four legs; his nub-tail wagging, because someone finally came to help! When no one answered the door, he could hear Dahlia raising her voice, screaming into the door. Crayons didn't want to leave Momma Jones, but he had to. He had to run to the door, scratch at it, and bark into it like Dahlia was doing. Crayons had to let her know that something was wrong! Finally, he heard a key turning in the lock. Knowing that someone would be coming in soon, Crayons went go lay down with his loving Momma Jones once more.




Thankfully, nobody yelled at Crayons for making, but nobody seemed to notice he was there, either. Hungry and scared, Crayons followed every visitor to the apartment around. After whimpering at his food bowl enough times, one nice lady in dark blue pants, and a light blue medical shirt, found the dog food and filled his food bowl and his water bowl to their tops. Crayons ate for the first time in two whole days.


After he ate, Crayons wandered around his and Momma Jones' apartment. There were so many people and flashing lights. Dahlia was still softly crying on the sofa while talking to a man wearing a shiny pendant on his shirt, like the one Crayons has on his collar. The strange people had taken Momma Jones out long ago. They zipped her up on a cold, plastic blue bag, put her on a rolling bed, and rolled her away. He had tried to jump on and go with her, but the people wouldn't let him.


Feeling neglected and alone, Crayons jumped back onto the bed, this time burying himself under the sheets, except for his black button nose sticking out, and went to sleep.




Days have passed, now, and Crayons has been staying with Dahlia. Living with Dahlia is so much different, and Crayons doesn't like it. First off, Dahlia and her husband don't ever let Crayons inside. The only one who does is the little girl with dark curly hair, and who can't even always walk straight yet. She sometimes lifts the latch on the old doggy door for him, obviously there has been another dog who used to live in this back yard. When she does this, though, Dahlia and the Daddy yell at her.


Crayons feels a connection with the Little One. She speaks similar to him, in a way that nobody else can understand. And if her mommy, Dahlia, were to leave like Momma Jones left Crayons, then she couldn't do much either.


For days and days, Crayons would sit outside the big glass door and watch the Little One, and the Little One watched back. Sometimes, the Little One would try to sneak Crayons inside to cuddle, but he knew better than that. Crayons would have loved to cuddle with the warmth of the little one, her little hands petting his head and scratching his ears, but he knew her Mommy Dahlia and Daddy would just yell at her. The Little One would cry, trying to express the want to cuddle with him and have him, too, but they could never understand. Humans almost never understood the need for two helpless being to feel like they can at least have each other as a crutch.


That's what Crayons loved about Momma Jones. They needed each other to live. Momma Jones would just sit for hours, stroking Crayons' fur, and they would be happy just keeping each other company. Everybody can use another who understands just how to not be lonely. And with every passing day, Crayons saw a lot of Momma Jones in the Little One; the same eyes, the same sincere smile, and the same kind warmth that can only come from the insides of the soul.




One day, there were plenty of people in the back yard with Crayons. Dahlia had set up tables and chairs earlier that day, and some familiar faces came by to bring food. There were so many people, now, all dressed in black and socializing. Some familiar, but mostly not. Crayons heard Momma Jones' name a lot, but knew better than to think she would be there, too. No, Momma Jones is not coming back.


Depressed and sad, Crayons took a walk. His head drooping, ears back, eyebrows scrunched together, and feeling all alone, Crayons let out a soft whimper. He found a tree trunk in the shade, walked in a circle to get his body right, and flopped down in the grass, trying to cover his face with a leaf. Crayons lay there, slowly blinking his round, dark eyes, and watching the ants climb the blades of grass.


Crayons felt a hand on his back. The Little One had come to sit with him. She was squatting down, her diaper hanging out of her little black velvet dress, black slip on shoes, and a black bow was holding the hair on top of her head straight up, like a flower. Crayons liked the was some curls still stuck to the sides of her face, especially by her ears. Her cheeks were red and her eyes very, very round, almost like his! They were green, though, unlike Crayons'. Crayons was so excited that she came to be with him, he was so lonely before.


All of a sudden, the Little One got a confused look on her face. Her eyes squished and she made a blubbering noise. Is that what a little human says sometimes? She quickly lost her balance, and the Little One fell right on her butt, trying to catch her fall by clinging on to some little sand-colored strands of Crayons' hair. Crayons heard the padded diaper flop. The Little One's eye started to get wet and her lip quivered. Oh, Crayons didn't want anyone to think he had done this!


Crayons did the only thing he thought to do; he licked the tip of her button nose with his tongue to let her know that he was there, and he rubbed his fuzzy face against her soft cheeks to warm her up. Warmth means contact, and contact means somebody loves you to be that close with you. Crayons was very gentle with the Little One, and finally tried to sit on his hind legs next to her, and lay his chin on her shoulder. There, Crayons stared at the Little One in the eyes, and she stopped her crying.


Crayons could feel himself being lifted up by two adult human hands. He looked around, and saw that it was Dahlia. Looking forward, Crayons saw that the Little One was being picked up, too, by her daddy. Crayons and the Little One spent the rest of the afternoon in the Little One's play-pin. Crayons felt so lucky that he had been chosen to watch the Little One for the rest of the day, and make sure she doesn't cry anymore.


As the strangers were leaving, Crayons saw Dahlia unlock the doggy door, pick up his food and water bowls to bring them inside, then she came and gave him and nice scratch on his forehead. She bent down to his level, her eyes red from crying, probably over Momma Jones if Crayons knew any better. She said something soft and lovely to him, but he didn't know what. All he knew is that is was loving and warm, Crayons could tell by the way she spoke. She then stood up and left to walk some strangers to the door.




Crayons looked at the Little One, laying in the corner of the pin, asleep and worn out from the day. He trotted to her, and flopped right down beside her. The Little One opened one eye to peek at who it was, her left eye, just like Momma Jones used to do. Then, she took her arm, pulled him close to her, kissed him with her little lips right on top the head, and fell back asleep... Just like Momma Jones used to! Crayons fell into her, into her warmth and love, and slept so peacefully that night, because he knew that this was the start of another special relationship with another human mother. Momma Jones lived on through the Little One, and Crayons could feel is in her warmth and hear it in her sighs.

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