It was a cold, dark night in February. The dingy piles of snow left by the snowplow on the shoulder of the road were the only sign that anyone had been through the area in the past several hours. In the daylight, farmhouses and silos dotted the landscape for as far as the eyes could see, but tonight not even the moon illuminated this dark place.

The car rounded the bend and stopped briefly as the driver tossed an object from the open door. It made a crunching sound as it landed in the snow bank on the edge of the road. The car accelerated, and the taillights quickly disappeared into the distance.

The box rocked back and forth as though protesting its abandonment. As it continued to rock, it began to slide down the snow bank, emitting a muffled groan as it came to rest in the northbound lane. Now still and silent, snowflakes began to transform the box, dusting it with a fine, white coating to match its frozen surroundings.

As the early morning sun began to filter through the trees, the rumbling of a large truck was the first sound to pierce the cold air. As the noise became louder, the asphalt beneath the snow began to vibrate. The box came to life, as though in a frenzy to escape the source of the approaching noise. The box moaned at first, then began to growl and scream. Flocks of birds quickly scattered from the treetops as the desperate sounds coming from the box became more frantic. As the driver rounded the corner, the truck’s front tire clipped the edge of the snow-covered box and sent it careening across the icy road and into the guardrail, where it burst open from the impact.

The box fell silent again as the flocks of birds returned, filling the treetops as quickly as they had fled just a few moments earlier. Faint puffs of steam now slowly rose from the gaping hole in the side of the box. The tip of a small brown paw trembled as it emerged from the hole. The small dog pulled itself through the hole and onto the snowy pavement, where it lay trembling for the next several minutes. Resisting the urge to flee again, the feathered witnesses fixed their attention on the dog resting there on the road beneath the trees.

It came to life again as it lifted its head and slowly looked side-to-side, surveying the scene of its abandonment. It whimpered as it recalled that only hours earlier it had been dozing in the corner of the warm bedroom. The voice grew louder and angrier, waking it from its cozy slumber. The man threw the box and a roll of thick tape onto the floor in front of the dog. Still half asleep, the dog yelped in fright as the man thrust it into the box, quickly securing the lid with tape. The dog whimpered as it recalled the long drive and the pain it felt as it landed in the snow bank the previous night. Raising its head, it again surveyed its surroundings. Still trembling, it struggled to its feet, sniffing the air for a scent that might guide it home. Finding no familiar scent, the dog began to wander aimlessly down the road.

The kind woman had always called the dog “Good Boy Toby.” She had loved Good Boy Toby and had always showered him with kindness and affection. The man had always been angry and unkind - always quick with his boot in response to the slightest infraction. She cried that day many months ago as she packed her things and left, hugging the dog before she closed the door. From that day forward, Good Boy Toby had become “Stupid Mutt.” The misery that the dog felt after that had only been tempered by the hope that the kind woman would return, but he had rushed in excitement to the sound of the opening door too many times, only to find the man standing there. He settled into life with the man and tried to forget her.

As he walked on the icy pavement, hunger pierced the dog’s stomach. His thoughts turned to food and the past was left behind.

As the dog walked down the road, the pads of his paws grew larger and increasingly more painful, as snow and ice gradually became imbedded in them. Each time a car approached, he scrambled into the snow bank on the side of the road to avoid being hit. His small body was no match for the deep snow and his struggle to get into the snow bank was becoming much more difficult as each car approached. Growing weary and hungrier, the dog turned onto another road in the direction of the faint smell of food.

The smell grew stronger as he wandered into the driveway, climbed the steps and sat by the door. After barking several times, the door opened and a woman appeared. His hope for food was quickly replaced with fear as the woman yelled at him and chased him away from the house. From his hiding place behind a shed, he smelled the scent of food coming from a nearby garbage can. Despite his desperation, he was too small to topple the can. Discouraged, he returned to the road and began walking again. Rain began to fall as he walked down the road.

By late afternoon the rain had changed to heavy, blinding snow. As each step became more painful than the last, the dog’s pace slowed. The fur around his eyes had become matted with ice and snow, causing his eyes to become almost completely frozen shut. His wet body shivered violently as he tried to continue walking. He was becoming extremely tired as the effects of hypothermia began to overpower his will to go on.

The sun disappeared, only to be replaced by frightening darkness. He had never felt this cold or this alone before. As the head lights of a car approached, the dog struggled to escape into the snow bank. He was too tired and in too much pain to escape this time and he collapsed next to the guard rail. The car passed but the dog didn’t get up. He couldn’t get up now. His body had relented to the powerful urge to sleep. Overcome with pain and sadness, he tried to recall a happier time as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Ted Billings had been driving the snowplow for the county since he graduated from high school twelve years earlier. He hated his job, often complaining to his wife that he should have taken a job working with animals when he had the chance a few years ago. He had been afraid to try something new when they had a new baby on the way. A job working with animals would have been rewarding. Instead he found himself driving the same snowplow, on the same roads every winter. As he sat in the booth at the diner, he sipped his coffee and lamented about the man he could have been.

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