The Long Way Home

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  It could not have been any harder to leave one of the children behind when we moved away. I know that parting with our dog was one of the most 1)agonizing decisions I have ever had to make. This is Zachary’s story. We forsook him out of practical necessity. He found us out of 2)canine determination, 3)unwavering love and by means of forces and 4)reckoning we will never understand.
  Ann and the children and I moved from our rural home in Virginia in 1987 so that I could 5)retrain for a new career. It meant leaving behind our best friend, Zachary, a six-year-old Black 6)Lab. This was for his good; he would be miserably 7)penned up in suburban Birmingham while we were away from home every day. We all agreed that he should remain free to roam and explore the countryside. We found friends of friends, far across the county, over a mountain, beyond the 8)interstate. They would be glad to give him a new home. He trembled beside me as I drove him there. And I left him 9)tearfully, watching him on his new front porch, disappearing in the distance of the rear view mirror as I drove away from him forever. I tried 10)feebly to convince myself that old Zach did not really care who cared for him. He would be fine and we would soon 11)outgrow our mutual loss.
  A year later, in our new home in a Birmingham suburb, we got a call from the people who bought our farmhouse back near Wytheville. Ann took the phone; the 12)color 13)drained from her face as the kids and I watched the conversation unfold. Our callers told Ann, “There’s a strange dog showed up here a couple days ago. He’s a big black dog, and he stays under the porch here. He’s 14)right thin and his paws don’t look so good. He just seems sort of lost and confused. The neighbors down the road say they think he’s your old dog. We made more calls and confirmed the truth of this 15)otherworldly 16)resurrection.”
  “It’s Zachary and he found his way home. He’s looking for us. Fred, you have to go get him.” Ann said through tears of joy and 17)remorse. I knew she was right. We had to go. But bringing Zachary there to Birmingham made no more sense than it would have a year earlier. Even so, the next day, driven by forces beyond reason, my daughter and I drove ten hours to our old farmhouse.
  And it was Zach for sure, though less of him than we had left, and he was confused when he first saw us. There was some white hair among the black now; he had become 18)prematurely old at seven doggy years. But as he recognized us, he responded to all of the commands he once obeyed, as if we had never been apart.
  How often we have wished that this was a world where dogs could talk. He could tell us how he made it twenty miles across a mountain range, a very busy interstate, and down many country roads through unfamiliar territory, to home. And then, when he finally arrived back at the farm, we weren’t there. What he must have thought and felt!
  It was obvious that his travels had taken him months. And yet he had persisted, driven by the need to find his 19)pack, his neck-huggers and stick-throwers and playmates; his family. It was not enough to get these things from the substitute family of strangers who treated him well enough, but were not his. To find his true home must have been a 20)driving need in his mind from that first week with his 21)counterfeit family. He waited and waited, finally knowing one day that I was not coming back for him and he would have to make the trip back to us on his own.
  Zach stayed with us through two more moves—to Sylva and Morganton, North Carolina; but he never made it back to Virginia. At age 12, elderly in dog years, he had become 22)decrepit, uncomfortable and 23)incontinent. Each day was a misery for him. We made the decision to send him out of this world painlessly. Of course, it was a very hard thing to do.
  But looking back, I see that 24)euthanasia was an easier decision than the one we made to leave our good friend with strangers, thinking he would never see us again, and knowing he would never rest until he found us.
  


  


  


  漫漫归途
  我们在搬家时遗弃了其中一个“孩子”,没有比这更艰难的事情了。我知道,与我们家的狗狗分开是我做过的最痛苦的决定。这是扎克里的故事。我们出于现实需要而遗弃了它。它却以犬族的决心及坚定的爱,凭借自身的毅力和我们无法理解的定位能力,找到了我们。
  1987年,我和妻子安,以及我们的孩子们从美国弗吉尼亚乡下的家搬了出来,以便我可以接受再培训开始新的事业。这意味着要留下我们最好的朋友扎克里,一只六岁大的黑色拉布拉多犬。这是为它好;如果它跟随我们来到伯明翰城郊的话,每天我们出门之后它就只能可怜地被关进笼子里。我们都认为它应该自由自在地在乡间漫游探索。于是,我们找到朋友的朋友,他们住在郡的另一端,翻过一个山头,在州际公路的那边。他们很乐意给它一个新家。我开车送它到那里时,它坐在我旁边,颤抖着。我含泪离开它,开车时看着它站在新家的门廊前,慢慢消失在车子的后视镜里,从此永远地离开了它。我无力地说服自己老扎克并不在乎谁来照看它。它会好起来的,而我们也很快就会忘掉失去彼此的痛苦。
  一年后,在伯明翰城郊的新家,我们接到一个电话,来电者正是买下我们那间位于怀特维尔附近的农舍的人。安接了电话;随着对话的进行,我和孩子们看着她脸上渐渐没了血色。来电者告诉安:“几天前,这里来了一只陌生的狗,是一只黑色的大狗,总在门廊里流连。它非常消瘦,爪子看起来不太好。它似乎有点不知所措,困惑不已。这条路不远处的邻居说它可能是你们家那只狗。我们又打了许多通电话,才确信真是你们家那只狗不可思议地再次出现在这里。”
  “是扎克里,它找到了回家的路。它在找我们,弗雷德,你必须去接它回来。”安说着,眼里噙满了喜悦和懊悔的泪水。我知道她说得对。我们必须去。然而,跟一年前的情况一样,现在把扎克里带到伯明翰来并没有太大意义。尽管如此,第二天,我和女儿被莫名的力量驱使着,驾车十小时,回到我们以前的农舍。
  它绝对是扎克,尽管它已不太像我们离开它时的样子,一开始见到我们时,它也迷惑了。它黑色的毛如今长出了一些银丝,虽然只有七岁,却显得过早衰老。但是当认出我们时,它对自己曾经遵从的所有指令都做出了回应,就像我们未曾分开过。
  我们常常希望在这个世界里,狗狗能开口说话。这样,扎克就能告诉我们它是如何越过20英里山区,穿过繁忙的州际公路,踏遍陌生区域的许多乡间小路,最终回到家。然后,当它终于回到农场,我们却不在那里了。它会有怎样的想法和感受啊!
  显然,这场归途花了它好几个月的时间。然而,它坚持下来了,被某种渴望驱动着去寻找它的族群,寻找会抱着它的颈项、给它丢棍子的人,寻找它的玩伴;它的家人。那个替代我们的陌生家庭待它很好,但他们给予扎克的一切并不足以满足它,因为他们不是它的家人。从和这个不属于它的家庭一起生活的第一周起,扎克的心中一定有着想要找回它真正的家人的强烈渴望。它 等啊等,某一天最终明白我不会回来接它,而它必须自己踏上回家的路。
  在接下来的两次搬迁中,扎克依然和我们在一起——无论是搬到西尔瓦还是北卡罗莱纳的摩根顿;但是它再也没有机会回到弗吉尼亚。按犬族的年龄来算,12岁的扎克已届老年,它已经衰老不堪,身体不适,并且大小便失禁。每一天对它而言都是折磨。我们决定让它毫无痛苦地离开人间。当然,做这个决定非常艰难。
  然而回首过去,我们做出过这样的决定:把我们的好朋友交给陌生人,想着它再也见不到我们,却发现它在没有找到我们之前未曾停下脚步。相比之下,让扎克安乐死的决定要比做前一个决定容易得多。
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