Jared barely had time to adjust to turning into a German shepherd before he heard the door opening to the trailer that he shared with his father. Ever since his mom had gotten fed up with her husband's dead-end lifestyle, she had been out of the picture. Jared had tried living with her for awhile, but he preferred the lack of structure and the fact that he was free to do about anything he wanted as far as his dad was concerned. It was everything a 17-year-old boy might imagine he wanted.
Dad, at the moment, found himself between jobs again. He had spent some time calling on different employers about town, but with still plenty of time left in the afternoon, he had returned home, tired of the constant put-downs and rejections. The last thing he wanted to see was that his son had let a big dog into their trailer.
Jared saw his dad's expression darken a second before he yelled in a voice that felt painfully loud to his new ears. "Jared!" Dad shouted. "Where'd this damn dog come from?"
"Dad!" Jared barked, eager to convey what had happened to someone that could probably, and should likely, help him. "It's me!"
He stopped, in shock, when he realized he could communicate only through a dog's barks.
Dad saw something on the floor and reached for it, glad the dog had stopped yapping but irritated that Jared hadn't yet made an appearance.
"You must have lost this, eh?" Dad said, stooping to fasten the leather collar around the shepherd's neck.
"What?" Jared yipped in surprise. "Dad! No! What are you doing?" He twisted and turned, trying in vain to shake off the collar, which enclosed his neck with a snugness that told him he wasn't going to remove the collar on his own.
"What the hell's that?" Dad said. He picked up the medallion and quickly ascertained it might be worth something, prompting him to slip it into his back pocket. He looked at his watch and figured if he could get to the pawn shop before closing, they might give him something for the gaudy object. Something that glittery had to be worth something he figured.
"Dad!" Jared protested with more barking. "I need that."
"I haven't forgotten about you," Dad said and grabbed the back of the collar. Jared felt himself pulled through the trailer and out the back door. They hadn't had a dog in a couple of years, but the old lead remained securely driven into the trunk of a massive oak tree. Pulling the suddenly uncooperative shepherd the last few yards across the grass, Dad secured the collar to the lead and then stood, rubbing his scruffy chin, and looked at the dog.
"Look after the place while I'm gone," Dad said, laughing at finding himself in a conversation with a dog. "And if you see Jared, you tell him I want to speak to him."
"Dad!" Jared barked more frantically. "Wait! It's me!"
Dad walked back into the trailer and, only a few minutes later, Jared heard the sound of his dad's pickup pulling back onto the road. He looked around their unappealing yard. An old metal drum, shoved next to the base of the oak's trunk, had been the dog house for the last canine occupant of the yard.
Jared didn't plan on taking up permanent residence, but he knew he needed that amulet back. He considered a way to get that message through to his dad. He winced, realizing on his best days, Dad wasn't always the brightest bulb.