My aching legs went on autopilot as I sprinted down Division Street at 1:30 A.M. In any normal situation, the enormous knot in the side of my stomach would have been an indicator that I needed to stop running. As I continued to tear down the street, I noticed a small group of students who were walking home after a Friday night out. I could feel their eyes giving me a confused (and slightly worried) look, but I paid them no attention. I had to keep running.
——
Two weeks earlier was the first time I ever met Ace, a German Shepherd – Pitbull mix. He had a sleek black coat of fur that was striped with silver, and as he sauntered towards my house alongside his owner Kade, I was entranced by the juxtaposition of his playful puppy-eyes and his powerful and muscular physique.
“Kade, man, this really is an awesome dog,” I said as they walked up our front porch. I reached out to give Ace a quick head scratch but before my hand reached his pointy ears he jumped back in fear. I took a step back, startled. I’ve owned two dogs throughout my life and interacted with countless more, and I cannot remember a time when one did not wag their tail joyfully as they met new people.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kade laughed as he sensed my confusion. “It takes him awhile to get used to people.” Still slightly confused, I dropped the subject, and we continued our night as normal.
Over the next two weeks I spent a lot of time with Ace. Him and Kade practically lived at our house on the weekends, and slowly but surely, I could sense that Ace was growing more comfortable around my housemates and me. If I slowly held out my hand for him to smell, he would almost always let me pet him. However, this tiny act of affection paled in comparison to the joy he showed whenever Kade simply walked in the room. If they were separated for even 20 seconds, Ace will start to whimper and stare at the window or door which Kade just left. Once Kade returned, he would leap up on him and wag his tail ferociously. It’s a beautiful connection.
It took a few times of hanging out with Ace before I learned the deep-seated reasoning behind his timid nature. Kade explained it to my roommates and me as we sat on our porch to soak in the end of the short-lived Michigan summers.
“I know I haven’t mentioned this to you guys before, but there is a reason that Ace is so afraid of strangers,” he said. “I didn’t get him when he was a puppy. I got him when he was about 6 months old. I found him on the side of the road, chained to a tree. He was basically skin and bones.” I sat quietly, trying not to picture that horrific image in my mind. “He was clearly abused by his previous owners,” he continued. “I walk him for two hours a day and spend basically every waking second with him, and it took months for him to fully trust me.” As I processed this information, my eyes shifted over to Ace. He looked to be at peace as he laid in our yard, chewing down the last bit of a large stick. I had a newfound respect for Kade as I thought about the time, effort, and love that he must have put into Ace in order to create their amazing bond.
——
A few days later, it was a very pleasant Friday night; warm enough to throw on a short sleeve shirt and shorts but cool enough to not be constantly wiping beads of sweat off your forehead. My house had split up for the night with Dylan, Tom, and I going to meet up with some friends while Kade, Aidan, and BJ went to wish a different friend a happy birthday. Before heading out, we made sure Ace was in safely in a room in our house with the door closed and a bowl of water by his side. The night was like many other Saturday nights during a national pandemic – we enjoyed the beautiful weather on our friend’s porch while sipping on some fruity cocktails.
As darkness began to engulf the sky, the temperature started to slowly drop. The drinks helped mask this change for about an hour, but once I checked my phone and saw that it was already after one in the morning, I decided to head home for the night.
“You guys good to go?” I asked my housemates. They concurred, we thanked our friends for their hospitality, and headed on our way. We walked back briskly in order to avoid the cold. Along the way, we debated about whether or not Kade, Aidan, and BJ would be back from the birthday celebration.
“I doubt it,” said Tom, laughing. “If I know Aidan, he probably won’t be making it back until at least four or five this morning.” I grinned, knowing he was probably right. As we turned a corner and reached our house, the absence of light coming from inside was a clear sign that we were the first group back. I bounded up the porch steps two at a time and threw open the front door, ready to collapse into my bed and prepare for an inevitable Sunday hangover. Before I took a single step inside, a black shadow shot past my leg. As I whipped my head around to see what it was, my worst fears were confirmed. Ace had somehow managed to escape his room and was out and searching for Kade.
“Ace, come!” we all yelled, practically in unison. Ignoring us, Ace leaped down our porch steps in a single jump and ran full speed across the street. Without saying a word, we all took off after him. Within fifteen seconds I knew our efforts were going to be futile. Ace was pulling away from us at a seemingly impossible speed and our efforts to call him back were basically illogical. He had never once listened to us before and there was no reason for him to start now – not when Kade wasn’t around. Nevertheless, we continued the chase, now almost 50 yards back from the tireless dog. Then, without warning, he made a sharp right turn down a poorly lit street and disappeared from our sight for about 10 seconds. Once the three of us reached the corner, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Okay, okay, okay” I said, gasping for air as we continued to sprint. “We need to split up. I’ll go straight down this street; Dylan take a left at the next turn and Tom you take a right.” With no hesitation, both Dylan and Tom agreed to this plan we split up at the intersection. As I continued searching, the adrenaline began to wear off and both the physical and mental pain began to overtake my body. I knew that the chances of finding a lightning-fast, black and silver dog in this darkness was dropping rapidly by the minute. As I tore through downtown Ann Arbor, there was a scattering of late-night wanderers roaming the streets. I could see heads turning and I could only imagine what was running through their minds. The night had turned quite chilly at this point, but I was drenched in sweat. As I made a turn down a residential street, I could feel my feet blistering and my entire body was pleading with me to stop. Then, like an angel appearing to Daniel in the lion’s den, I saw four black legs scampering down the street in front of me.
“Ace! Come! ACE!” I yelled desperately. I saw his head turn ever so slightly to look back at me, but he didn’t break stride and continued to run with no signs of slowing down. That’s when it hit me. Even if I could somehow run into him again, I would have no chance of getting him to stop. I needed to get Kade. His hours of training and loving Ace were clearly the key to success. Although I had done my best in the last two weeks to make Ace trust me, I would still need months of positive experiences with Ace in order to get him to listen to me. Still running, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called BJ. He had driven Kade and Aidan to the birthday party and doesn’t drink alcohol, so I knew he would be able to drive Kade to where I was. He answered and I quickly filled him in on the situation, gasping for air between sentences. I sent him my location, turned off my phone, and went into a full sprint. Luckily for me, Ace was continuing in a straight line so I wasn’t losing sight of him. Then, as we approached an intersection downtown, one of my worst fears was unfolding. A black car was pulling up to the intersection, oblivious to the intense pursuit that was taking place. The world slowed down and I saw the driver’s eyes widen as Ace bolted across the street directly in front of the car. The high-pitched screech of the tires alerted Ace to the oncoming danger and his incredible athletic ability allowed him to narrowly avoid what would have been a certain death. As I sprinted in front of the stopped car, I threw my hand up as a quick thank you. I continued my trek across Ann Arbor, desperately hoping that BJ and Kade would arrive before I lost him again. Then, without reason, Ace decided to take his journey into the backyards of some Ann Arbor residents. By the time I reached the back of the first house, I had lost him. I went back to the sidewalk, made an educated guess on a direction, and took off sprinting yet again.
Thirty seconds after the backyard fiasco, I heard the honk of a horn and saw BJ’s car pull up.
“He was right around that corner 30 seconds ago!” I shouted as the driver side window rolled down. “I’ll keep looking on foot, you should drive around and have Kade call out for him.”
“Sounds good,” yelled BJ. “We called the cops so they’re also on the lookout.” I gave a thumbs up, and for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, I took off in a full sprint and starting yelling Ace’s name. I knew he had to be somewhere in the general area, so I started asking anyone I passed if they had seen a dog. No one had. For the next ten minutes, I kept running, kept questioning everyone I saw, and kept calling out for Ace.
As I was struggling to run uphill on a street that was under heavy construction, I felt my legs give up. I was a good mile away from where I had last seen Ace, and I knew my chances of finding him at this point were basically zero. I collapsed down on a bench. I felt tears forming in my eyes but I didn’t have the strength to cry. My adrenaline had completely evaporated and I sat motionless on the bench, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible. There were no streetlights around, the moon was covered by a collection of large, dark clouds, and the cold air stung my lungs. After five minutes of thoughts and feelings that mirrored the color of the sky, I dragged myself off the bench and slowly began my long walk home.
——
The blinking red stoplight lit up the sidewalk that my eyes were staring at as I slowly shuffled back home through the empty streets of Ann Arbor. On a normal night, I would find the quiet walk back peaceful, but tonight it was shrouded in in misery and despair. The dried sweat that covered my body began to itch and the blisters between my toes continued to burn. As I approached the intersection, I glanced left and right to ensure that I had a clear pass to cross. A pair of headlights hit my eyes and I slowed my walk to a stop to make sure the late-night driver didn’t blow through the blinking red. The red brake lights lit up the pavement behind the car and I resumed my heartbroken walk home.
“Chase, we got him!”
At first, I didn’t believe what I was hearing. I squinted my eyes to make out the face of the driver of the car. It was BJ. The pain in my feet, legs, chest, and heart went away instantly. I sprinted to the car, threw open the back door, and saw Kade smiling as he wrapped his arm around a panting Ace.
“We drove around the blocks where you last saw him and I kept yelling his name,” explained Kade. I hurried over to the front seat, eager to hear more about the story as BJ started to drive us home.
“I knew if we could get close enough to him for him to hear my voice, he’d come running,” Kade continued. “We finally saw him sprinting towards the car and he almost tackled me once he reached us.” I smiled internally as I thought about the contrast between Ace’s reaction to seeing me versus his reaction to hearing Kade. I truly doubt that there are many more relationships like that in the world. As we drove back through the quiet streets, I smiled at Ace and realized that this was one of the best car rides of my life.
This chase took place a little over a month ago, and since then I have made tremendous strides in my relationship with Ace. Rather than wishing he would instantly love me, I have created small, positive experiences with Ace in hopes that I can gain his trust. My previous memories of dogs were all from a skewed sample size; dogs that had been loved by humans since the day they were born. Ace was different, and he made me understand that a dog is not a man’s best friend simply by default – it takes a collection of experiences to build trust and to create an everlasting bond.
Chase Morello | September 5, 2020 | Throughout the streets of Ann Arbor, MI