Bailey's Story Quotes

“Somehow I knew that puppies were meant to leave their mothers.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“I could get up on that bed and curl up right next to my boy’s warmth. The boy loved me. I loved him. From the second we woke up until the moment we fell asleep, we were together.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Felix had curled up against me for a nap, and I could feel his purr—such a giant sound for such a tiny thing—humming against my ribs. Ever since we’d come to the apartment, Felix had seemed to think that I’d become his mother. It was embarrassing, but I’d given up shoving him away. You can’t really expect a cat to act like he’s got brains.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“And he’s hardly more than a puppy. He didn’t know what he was doing. Tell him … tell him he’s a doodle. That’s what my mother always called me when I was a little girl and I did something wrong.” The boy faced me sternly. “Bailey, you are a doodle. You are a doodle, doodle dog.” And then he laughed and Grandma laughed, but I was so miserable I could barely move my tail. Just to show that skunk, I was going to ignore her. That would serve her right, after everything she’d put me through.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“We got to lie in bed quietly every morning, instead of getting up for breakfast with Dad. Life had finally gotten back to normal. Thank goodness that whole school thing was over and done with.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“After the rain ended, I tried my new trick with the dog door again, and sure enough, I was out in the backyard for a second time. I dug a hole, chewed the hose, and barked at Smokey, who was sitting in a window and pretending not to notice me. When a large yellow bus pulled up in front of the house, Ethan and several more neighborhood kids, including Chelsea, tumbled out. I jumped up to put my paws against the fence, and the boy ran to me, laughing.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Bad dog, Bailey,” the boy said crossly. I was astounded. Bad dog? Me? They had accidentally locked me in the garage and forgotten about me and left me there all day, but I was willing to forgive them. Why were they scowling like that and shaking their fingers at me?”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“When were the people coming back? Where was my boy? Now that I’d found the boy and figured out that my job was to be near him, how could he go away and leave me? When I’d gotten myself out of the big yard and gone into the world, looking for what I needed, I’d never imagined this. Would I be alone forever?”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“This one is a rocket, Bailey,” Ethan told me, showing me a toy shaped like a stick. But what use was a sticklike thing that smelled too bad to chew? I turned my nose away. “We’re going to land one on the moon one day, and then people will live there, too. Do you want to be a space dog?”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Dad didn’t pay me much attention, although he did seem to like it when I got up early in the morning to watch him eat breakfast. Of course I kept a sharp eye out for any scraps of scrambled egg or crumbs of toast that might drift down to the floor. But neither of them loved me like Ethan did. I felt adoration flow out of Ethan whenever he was near me. And that made sense, after all. Ethan was my boy.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Then something incredible happened. The boy picked me up and carried me right into the house! I’d never even imagined that might be possible. Did it mean that I wouldn’t be living in a wire cage with a concrete floor? That I could stay where the people stayed? I was going to like it here just fine.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Yes, I decided. My name could be Fella. I could stay with this man. I could be his dog, do what he told me, go where he went. That was what I was supposed to do, wasn’t it? Stay with a person? I was pretty sure that was true. It felt right.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“Hey, there, little fella!” he called. I looked at him uncertainly. What kind of a person was this? What would those hands be like? Would they push me aside, like the first man I had known? Or would they be patient and gentle? “You lost, fella? You lost?” I wasn’t sure about the hands yet, but the voice was kind. And he was talking right to me. The first man had never done that. And he’d never kneeled down so that he was close to my level, either.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story

“The man scooped up two puppies, one in each hand, and carried them out through the gate. He made two more trips for the rest. And then they were gone. The yard was suddenly awfully quiet without all of their tiny, high-pitched barks. Their mother put her paws up on the gate and cried. Then she dropped down to pace back and forth. The man came by her cage and looked at her, but he didn’t call out to her, didn’t speak to her, didn’t reach inside to touch her. Somehow I knew that he could have done those things, and that it would have helped to ease her unhappiness. But he didn’t. He just turned and walked away.”
― W. Bruce Cameron, Bailey's Story