By Jacinta Rossetto
“Could you just talk to him?” Emily’s Dad asked. “He’s been having a hard go of it ever since he turned into a dog. His parents are worried about him.”
Emily yielded, and told her friend, Stella, that she would call her back later. There was a lick of discomfort and desperation in her dad’s voice that told her this was serious.
And of course, she was worried about Cody too.
“He’s outside right now,” Emily’s dad said, ushering her out the door. Emily noticed the soft way her Dad spoke, and the way his eyebrows turned down at the ends. It was clear from his body language and his tone of voice; you’re our last resort. Emily stepped out of the house, alone, and saw Cody standing in the front yard, absentmindedly pawing the ground.
The two had never been close, but what second cousins are? He had always preferred the company of his first cousins at the family events they both frequented, and it didn’t help that Emily was three years older than he was. As children, a three year age difference was practically a decade. Nevertheless, Cody had always been too cool for Emily. She liked reading, going to the movies with her friends, and pretending that the small farm she lived on with her family was her own quiet little kingdom. Cody liked skateboarding, surfing, and making the people around him laugh so hard they cried.
But now he was an English Cocker Spaniel.
“Hey, Cody,” Emily called, when he hadn’t bothered to look up at her as she approached him. They were both older now though, and Emily shouldered the mission to finally have a meaningful conversation with her cousin Cody.
“Hi,” he said, completely monotone. His voice, in her memory, had always sounded so lively. He stopped digging his claws into the ground, and Emily could see that he had ripped up a small patch of grass and made a hole in the dirt. Emily’s mum would be mad when she saw it. Or maybe not, Emily thought, given the circumstances.
“How have you been holding up?” Emily asked.
“Everyone has been asking me that. How are you holding up?” he mocked. “How have you been feeling? Is everything okay, really?” he huffed, and irritably shook his tail. Emily had thought herself kind by ignoring the hole in the lawn, so was taken aback at Cody’s passive aggressive reaction. She wasn’t expecting him to still be so miserable, three weeks on from the incident.
She wanted to keep trying, even though she had no idea what she was supposed to do. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s a stupid question. I know it must be hard.” Emily sat down on the grass, near, but not too near Cody. He seemed tired, and she wondered if he had walked all the way here or if it was more of an emotional fatigue.
Emily tried now for a gentler, more neutral line of questioning.
“What have you been doing with yourself since it happened?” She asked. “Not a whole lot,” Cody sighed, willing to let go of some of his frustrations. He sat down on the grass as well. “I go to therapy, I watch TV, I go for walks. Never alone though. I need to always have someone with me now.”
“Oh,” was all Emily could think to say. She guessed a lot more had changed about Cody’s life than she thought. Emily had never been in a situation like this before, and wasn’t sure about what she was meant to say. Was it better to talk about the elephant in the room, or should she shy away from the topic altogether? “Have you seen your friends much?”
“A little bit, right after. They were sorry and supportive for a few days, but I haven’t seen them in weeks.”
“Why not? You don’t want to see them?”
“It’s them who don’t want to see me. I mean, they would never say that, but I can tell.”
Emily noticed Cody looking at something behind her and turned to see her own father peeking out at them through the living room window. Caught red-handed, he pretended to inspect the curtains for a moment before walking away.
Cody continued in a quieter voice, sounding low and broken. “They’re scared of me I think, because now I’m fragile.” He moved to lay down, resting his head on his paws.
“I just want them to treat me like a normal person.”
“I’m sorry Cody, that must be really hard,” Emily sighed, as she laid back down on the grass, her hands under her head. What would she want to hear, if she was in his situation? “I think a lot of people become distant around serious situations because they’re scared of doing or saying something that will make it worse. But I don’t think it means they love you any less.”
Cody was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice sounded heavy and wet. “Look, I get that, but you always assume your closest friends will be there for you in your hardest times, so it’s a bit of a shock to the fucking system when something like this happens and they’re nowhere to be found.”
Emily was disappointed in herself for upsetting him so much. She could find nothing to say, as Cody’s sniffles filled the air. When it seemed that Cody wasn’t going to be able to recompose himself, that he was really upset, Emily couldn’t help herself. She scooted closer to him, and began to pat him gently, from his head to his shoulders. His chestnut fur was silky and warm under her fingers.
Cody’s hiccupping eased. Before Emily could praise herself for a job well done, Cody snarled through his jowls, “Are you seriously patting me, right now?” Wrong again, Emily! she thought to herself. Why was she so bad at this?
“I’m sorry!” She removed her hand, snatching it back to her side like she’d burnt it. “I just thought— I thought you would—” Emily bit her tongue. She had learnt to do that now.
Cody sighed again, that heavy puff of air dogs had the habit of breathing out, like the weight of the world was on their shoulders. “No…” he said, something like disappointment in his voice. “No. It was actually really nice.” His voice was quiet. “You can… keep doing it. If you want.” Emily smiled privately at the indifferent tone Cody was trying to disguise his words in.
So Emily’s hand returned to Cody’s furry head, and she continued to pat him, like she had patted her own dog, Maverick, for many years. Softly, down his neck and across his back, a comforting and soft hand saying nothing more than “I’m here. I love you.” After a handful of silent minutes, Cody huffed again and rolled his shoulders, politely rolling Emily’s hand off. It said; okay that’s enough now. He kept his head on his paws, but Emily could see the fur of his face still wet with tears.
“Hey, why don’t we play a game?”
He side eyed her. “I swear to God, if you suggest throwing a stick, I might maul you.”
Emily laughed loudly, before composing herself. “Hey, at least you’re still funny.”
They tried to play tag, but Cody was too fast. He tagged her straight away, and then Emily spent the next five minutes straight chasing Cody around the yard, never even getting close to him. He darted around the yard and turned on his haunches like a rocket.
She gave up when she slumped down on the grass to catch her breath.
“How about a walk instead?” She suggested.
“Only if you don’t put a leash on me. Mum’s been doing that and I hate it. Our neighbourhood has a ‘no loose dogs’ policy.”
“You don’t have to worry about anything like that out here.”
Together, they walked past the house, where a dirt path led a walking track through and around the fields, where brown herds of cattle grazed languidly in the afternoon sun. “I think you’re right, actually,” Cody said quietly, trotting along the trail next to Emily.
“Really?” The shock was palpable in her voice. “About what, specifically?”
“That people don’t want to talk to me because they’re scared of making me worse.”
“That’s not really what I said.”
“It’s basically what you said,” Cody retorted, rolling his eyes. Emily conceded. “Everyone was really sympathetic at first, coddling me and stroking my fur. But now, most of them don’t talk to me unless they have to, like they’re just waiting for me to sort this all out on my own until I go back to normal.”
Emily didn’t want to mess things up again. This time, it was Cody who initiated the conversation, so she decided she would just let him talk.
“People always say I’m here if you want to talk. But they don’t actually want to talk. They just say that because it’s what you’re supposed to say.” He paused again, as though waiting for Emily’s response. When the customary wait time passed, he started again.
“Mum and Dad are worried about me, I know. They’re trying so hard to do the right thing that they can’t even see me anymore. You know, right after it happened, I tried to tell a joke. You know, to ease the tension.” Cody looked at Emily now, gauging her response, checking she was hanging on his next words. She was. “I said I was feeling
‘Pretty ruff’. They just looked at me like I was insane.”
Emily snorted, and Cody stared. “I would have laughed. Probably,” Emily said. They kept walking, even when the path led through a thicket of trees. The green shadows and dappled sun blanketed the two as they walked in a somber silence. When they came out the other side, and the rolling fields became visible again, the two were both shocked to see a small group of cows and their calves, standing just a few metres from the fence. Both mothers and children alike looked up at the sudden movement, and stared at Emily and Cody, captivated.
One brave cow lowered her head, eyes still on the two people watching her, and took a cloven step forward. She sniffed at the air, curiously.
The small movement triggered something canine in Cody, and Emily could only watch in silent horror as he raised his haunches, narrowed his eyes, and surrendered to a bout of vicious barking, while bounding up and down the fence line in front of the poor cow, who took a few offended steps back and shook her huge head.
When the primal part of Cody sensed the retreat as a well-earned defeat, the human part of him was able to gain control once more. He stepped back from the wooden fence separating him from the cow field, looking embarrassed.
“I’m— I don’t know why I did that.” His ears drooped lower than before, and he looked at the ground, pointedly avoiding Emily’s stare. “I’m sorry.”
Emily was still struggling to comprehend the situation, to understand how quickly her cousin had gone from Cody to a dog, and back to himself again. “Nothing to be sorry about,” Emily smiled. “You’re only human.”
Back at the house, Cody was beginning to make moves of leaving. When Emily sensed that he was about to say goodbye, she derailed the farewell with a question; “What do you think you would say to me,” she asked, after an afternoon of struggling with her words, “if I was in your situation?”
He cocked his head to the side and pondered. “I don’t know. I think I would just try my best to let you know you’re not alone.”
Emily smiled and Cody nodded, as he turned to walk away. That seemed a good enough goodbye, Cody thought.
“Hey, Cody!” Emily called, and he turned to look at her. “I’m glad you’re still here.” Cody only smiled and waved to Emily from the end of the driveway.
This piece was featured in the 2026 summer edition of Glass Magazine
