Alex Benson grew up without a father. Technically, he had one, but when Alex turned four, his father died.
Michael Benson had worked as a fire and rescue officer. He was killed clearing rubble after an earthquake in one of the Asian countries. Alongside him, Boyhis loyal German Shepherd, raised from a puppyalso lost his life.
Alexs mother, Susan, suddenly found herself a widow. She never remarried, choosing to raise her son herself.
At fourteen, I signed up for a junior dog training programme at the local Kennel Club. Mum supported my decision, but I could sense her fear that Id follow my father into a dangerous line of work. By sixteen, Id brought home a wiggly German Shepherd puppy and could not, for the life of me, come up with a name for him.
One afternoon, I came home from school and overheard Mum talking to the pup:
Oh, you cheeky rascal, always getting into mischief, she sighed to him.
I smiled. Whenever Id get muddy or climb somewhere I shouldnt, Mum always huffed the very same words. I walked into the room, laughing, and said,
Well, thats it then! Weve found his name. Cheeky it is.
Over just two years, Cheeky grew into a strong, handsome and well-disciplined service dog. I was proudof both my work and his abilities.
Then came time to go off to the army. I applied to train and serve alongside my dog. Quietly, I was already preparing Cheeky for the task, hoping wed succeed once we arrived for training. We were sent to a specialised training centre, where we spent a hard three months proving we were up to the task.
Afterwards, we were posted to duty along the borderright near one of the military outposts. The lads there welcomed us warmly, and Cheeky and Trouble became our nickname. Whenever we went out on patrol, people would say, Cheeky and Trouble are off to work!
Routine soon set in. But then, one night on patrol, tragedy struck. We ran into a group of intrudersa shootout followed. One of the soldiers was wounded, another killed, and I vanished in the aftermath.
Cheeky was hurt, too. They raised the alarm and everyone searched, but they didnt find me. For a whole month, authorities on both sides combed the areano luck.
One day, an officer rang our bell and brought Cheeky home to Mum. Hed recovered, but still limped on his front leg.
While the officer spokein hopeful tones about miracles and not giving upMum stroked Cheekys soft head and cried silently. Cheeky pressed himself against her, resting his head on her knees. The officers voice faded into the background for her. She gazed into Cheekys eyes and said quietly,
Oh, you dear Cheeky boy.
From then on, people in the park would see them every morning and eveninga dignified pair: a middle-aged woman strolling with a limping German Shepherd at her side. There was something restful and stately about them, something that went far beyond the usual bond between human and dog. I sometimes think others felt it, too.
Mum would issue commands softly, talking at length to Cheeky, who listened intently and never barked in return.
Cheeky, today well bake mushroom and cabbage pies. The doughs nearly ready. And tomorrows a day off, so well visit the riveryoull have a good swim then.
A year went by like this. Then the army sent word again. They brought over some supplies, groceries, dog food. They said that if no more news arrived within a year, Mum could declare me legally dead.
She listened calmly, thanked the officer, and closed the door with a strange smile.
Dont you listen to him, Cheeky. I know Alex is aliveI can feel it.
Once, a young man came calling. Mum was nervous, but Cheeky wagged his tail, not barking once.
Hello, Mrs Benson. Im Nicholas PowellI served with your son, he introduced himself quickly. Hello, Cheeky! You remember me, you old rascal, he grinned at the dog.
They chatted late into the night. Nicholas shared stories about our time in the service, Mum poured him tea, offered him biscuits, and showed off my childhood photos. They laughed at my old antics.
Suddenly, Nicholas grew quiet, his smile fading. He seemed to struggle for words.
Look, Mrs Benson, please dont think Im mad, he began in a whisper.
Mum was instantly alert.
What is it, Nicholas?
Alex wanted me to tell you that hell come home. He promised.
Mum gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as tears welled in her eyes. Cheeky stirred, padded over to Nicholas, nudged his knee, and barked softly.
Dont worry. I havent seen him myself, and I dont know where he is, but two weeks ago, Alex came to me in a dream and asked me to tell you hes on his way home.
Mum wept openly now, not caring. Cheeky licked her hand. Nicholas sat quietly, afraid to intrude on such a moment. He knew his dream wasnt proofnothing concretebut not coming to see a friends mother would have been unforgivable. A request like that had to be granted.
Another hard year slipped past. Through it all, the woman and her dog still walked the park at sunrise and sunset, lost in quiet conversation.
Golden autumn arrived. You could see the sun cutting through the thinning branches, glinting off the faces of those out walking, everyone squinting a little. Mum and Cheeky reached the lanes end and turned to head back. In the bright haze at the far end, a tall man appearedlimping, slowing as he walked.
Cheeky stiffened, stopped, and let out a thin whine before tugging forward. Mum slipped the lead from her hand, and Cheeky, forgetting his limp, broke into a run towards the figure hed waited for all these years.
Mum just stood there, her arms dropped to her sides, tears streaming down her face. In the distance, in the golden light, her Cheeky and her Alex stoodfinally, together.
