…the Duke was NOT amused.
Silky Explains It All
All Of Me
Yes, folks, it’s me, Silky Dawn Cross, older sister to Sasha. I’m here instead of her because she is busy with several of her projects and because I wanted to write something anyway.
Many, if not most of you, know that I am a very old dog. I just turned 79 a couple of days ago. But that is chronological age based upon having lived several lives, including 12 years so far in the current one. Additionally, I was not born in your reality.
Yes, that all requires some explanation, so here we go. Here are my lives, one by one, starting with the first. Please forgive the quick and dirty entries, but I’m saving the details for my memoirs.
Zou Zou Born June 20th, 1939 Died April 19th, 1951
Zou Zou was my original name. I was born in Orleans, France to a male hunting dog Basset Hound from England named Bodger and a pampered French house Basset Hound female named Giselle. They were owned by a British man and his French wife. I had 3 sisters and 2 brothers. I was the only one kept as a pure pet, the rest were trained for hunting. We all moved to England when I was 6 weeks old.
All of us, parents included, were Smart. To explain, Smart in this case means human intelligent and sapient. The first thing we were taught was to not let humans find out about it. That version of Earth had a bunch of Smart animals and they knew it needed to be kept secret.
I broke the secret at 9 weeks old when Monette came home from her last year at boarding school. She and I hit it right off and on the fourth day home I made it plain to her that I was a very smart puppy. My mom and dad had to come and tell her about The Secret, which took a while since they could not speak and lacked opposable thumbs.
Anyway, I’m going on too long here, so here is the condensed version of how the next almost 12 years went.
Monette ran off to join the French Resistance when I was just 1 year old. She took me with her.
Ten months in we met three humans from America: Ben, Ted and Harvey. They had three dogs with them: King (a German Shepherd), Scout (a small terrier mix) and Roscoe (the most handsome and dashing Basset Hound I had ever seen).
Spent the next three years fighting Nazi scum and French traitors. Fell hard for Roscoe, who fell hard for me.
Got caught by Nazis and taken to the secret lab of a mad scientist. Caused his experiment with freezing and reviving living creatures to go awry. Ended up frozen in green ice for 6 months.
Thawed out. Felt like hammered shit for a couple of days, then okay. Found out the war had ended two months earlier with the nuking of Berlin and Tokyo.
Monette married Ben and Roscoe & I joined them living in Paris.
Went to visit Ben’s parents in California in 1951. A month later, Roscoe and I (ages almost 13 and 12, respectively) got hit by a drunk driver and knocked into the Feather River Canyon not far from Paradise, California. We both died.
But we got better.
Amy “Born” April 20th, 1951 Died: October 3rd, 1962
I woke up 8 miles downriver from where I must have hit the water. Roscoe was nowhere around and, I was very confused. First, because I knew I should have been dead and second because my sense of smell was not nearly what it should have been. A quick look into some still water showed me that I was a Border Collie pup no more than 6 months old. Now I was very afraid and even more confused. Several hours later, when I got into Chico, California, my confusion red lined when I read a newspaper and quickly realized that I was not even in my world. I’m not ashamed to say that I found a dark little space under an old car and sort of shut down until I fell asleep.
I dreamed that I was talking to Roscoe across a long distance. We figured out that he, now a Bull Terrier, was up in the mountains somewhere. We also figured out that our regeneration must be the result of six months frozen in green Nazi ice. How we got to another world where Russia was still communist and the USA only had 48 states instead of 52 was a mystery we did not crack.
We expressed our love for each other and vowed to meet in Oroville, which was not too far away. Then the dream faded and I woke up and things went sideways fast. Again, I hit only the highlights.
Figured I’d hitch a ride with some nice human. Walked to highway. Got picked up by two ladies in a small car. Car was hot, they fed me a sandwich, I fell asleep and when I woke up we were leaving Sacramento, headed for the Bay Area. Managed to keep from panicking.
Ran off from them as soon as they stopped in San Francisco, Roscoe’s home town. Figured he’d head there once I didn’t show in Oroville, so went looking for a place to settle in for a while. Chose Golden Gate Park.
After many adventures and finding out that Smartness seemed to rub off on many of the animals I met, I had to escape the dog catcher by jumping on a truck. To Texas.
Many adventures across Texas until I got adopted by a wealthy couple who were setting out to sail down to Panama, then to Hawaii. Spent 4 years sailing the Pacific and living a good life. Found that while I never really forgot Roscoe, I thought of him less. Also conferred Smartness to a shitload of other animals before jumping ship when the now fighting all the time couple pulled into Singapore.
Spent 5 years making my way back to France, escaping death more times than you can imagine. Got to Paris on Christmas Day, 1961. Was pretty sick from something I’d picked up in North Africa. Got adopted off the street a week later by a nice older couple.
Vet kept me going okay for nearly a year, but I died in October of 1962. No pain, died in my sleep.
Lucky “Born” October 4th, 1962 Died February 19th, 1963
First time regenerating as a male. Took some getting used to. Was a Mastiff pup, maybe 5 months old. Made my way to the north coast, hoping I could find a way to sneak my big self onto a boat crossing the Channel. Had meny adventures before getting hit and killed by a goddamn lousy French driver.
Honey “Born” February 20th, 1963 Died May 10th, 1976
Back to being female and in a Irish Setter body, about 4 months old. Woke up near an airport. Went to mooch food and immediately got adopted by a stunningly beautiful redheaded lady pilot named Gail. Spent the next 13 years with her and loved every minute of it. Travel, parties, Woodstock, celebrities, good deeds, not so good deeds, adventures and met/sparked a huge number of Smart animals. Died of old age in Gail’s arms, at our home in San Diego, but not before telling her The Secret and that I’d visit her at some point.
Daisy “Born” May 11th, 1976 Died August 18th, 1986.
Yes, I was a Daisy in one life. It’s a very popular name for bitches. More importantly still, I was a Basset Hound again!
I was 6 months old when I woke up about 20 miles north of San Diego. Decided to go up to the redwoods to think about things. Caught a ride on a train all the way to Eureka. Spent a couple of months there being very contemplative, mostly thinking about all the Smart Animals out there. Finally decided to do something about it.
Spent a year crisscrossing North America talking to groups, sometimes in the hundreds, about what we as Non-Humans should do. Should we organize? Tell certain humans about us? Got many good ideas and comments. Decided to go see Gail. Arrived in San Diego on October 15th, 1977.
Gail was gobsmacked to see me in my new body, but we quickly sorted things out. Then she introduced me to a friend of hers: Me.
And by “me”, I mean me, Silky Dawn Cross, final iteration of Zou Zou. If your head is spinning, imagine how mine was. Silky gave me a Universal Translator and then filled Gail and I in on a wide variety of things, including the future, who to trust, bleeding edge ultra tech we could have and, in the most bittersweet moment of all my lives, that Roscoe was alive and we would never meet in person.
She also told me that it was time to do some world traveling and form the Non-Human Terran Alliance. Gail volunteered to help me out. I would not find out for many years that she sold almost everything to finance our trip.
Insert here many adventures on all continents except Antarctica. International NHTA formed on September 1, 1978. The future me brought us huge amounts of stuff that allowed the building of Gorilla City, Dog Mountain, Wolf Island and other NHT strongholds. Number of NHT in the world, mostly domesticated dogs & cats, tripled in a few years. Gail and a select few humans were a great help.
On July 4th, 1986, I was diagnosed with cancer. Future me told me to get my affairs in order, took my universal translator, then departed. Gail took great care of me and on August 18th, 1986, in Seattle, Washington, I got the injection that ended my life as Daisy.
Jake “Born” August 19th, 1986 Died August 23rd, 1998
I LOVED being Jake! He was a Jack Russell Terrier and he had energy and stamina for days. He was good looking and popular with bitches, males and humans.
Woke up nearly 50 miles outside Seattle, on the coast. Decided to just spend a few years traveling. Insert more adventures here than any dog has a right to. Met so many great NHT and humans. Learned how to surf and skateboard. Killed three ex-Nazis in Argentina and two in the USA. Fathered a bunch of puppies. It was a great life.
I died just after my 12th birthday. Probably a heart attack. Happened up in the Canadian Rockies. Got to see the sunrise.
Trixie “Born” August 23rd, 1998 Died September 28th, 1998
My very short life as Trixie, the standard poodle, had two distinctions: I woke up farther away from my death place than ever before (Green River, Wyoming) and it was the shortest life of all, just over a month.
Had traveled down into Utah, fell into a hole full of rattlesnakes and that was all she wrote.
Rufus “Born” September 28th, 1998 Died June 19th, 2006
Another male, this time a big lab mix who met a nice family that found me, a 5 month old pup, walking across the Salt Flats in Utah. They had 5 little kids (including triplets!) and lived in Fresno, California. It was love at first sight all the way around.
My life with them was just great. I loved those kids (ages 1 to 6 when we met) and they loved me. Of course, I still kept up with NHTA business, as well as maintaining contact with friends, but mostly I was just a family dog.
Died on June 19th, 2006 at age 9 while protecting the oldest child, Renee, from a drugged up mugger. Tore his throat out, but he shot me and I died a few minutes later in her arms.
Silky “Born” June 20th, 2006 Not Dead Yet
I regenerated for what I am convinced is the final time on June 20th, my original birth date, in 2006. Convincing factors were being a Basset Hound again, looking exactly as I did when Zou Zou was 6 months old and the emptiness in my heart that told me Roscoe was finally gone. In fact, he had died a year earlier at age 15, nearly 16.
I woke up in Lodi, California and was literally grabbed up off the street 10 minutes later by a young Hispanic woman who named me “Mamas” and said I would be a good breeder.
Insert here 6.5 years of being used by backyard breeders to produce a litter a year. While these folks were not evil, they were still assholes, although they treated the other bitch, the male and myself well. Still, after almost 7 years as a puppy factory and watching telenovelas all day with the grandmother, I was ready to scream. Fortunately, after a brief illness, my ability to get pregnant was impaired and they unceremoniously dumped me at the SPCA. Later, Sasha would unceremoniously dump them in Patagonia.
After that, most of you know the rest of the story. My life these last 4 years has been the stuff of fantasy and legend. To say it has been my greatest adventure ever is a vast understatement.
I just turned 12 and, in the manner of we canines, know that my life is well past the halfway point. After dying 8 other times, one more death does not bother me. I have very few regrets.
Still, I do know that life can throw some crazy curveballs, so if I have to update this again after Silky dies, I won’t be too surprised.