Dog - Kay Doiron

He installed himself under our house three days ago. He was not sure on his feet, a little spastic, wobbly, like he’s not quite sure where his legs end... with the cutest face. Covered in brown and black splotches and smelling like he had slept cuddled up with a dead person he shyly wobbled out from under our house to devour a bowl of chicken, rice and gravy... a coon ass dog.

It was love at first sight for the boys, “ Mom, can we keep him PLEEEEEASE!!!”

I remember being nine and wanting the stray dogs, any dog in my neighborhood. Charlie would wait for me every day at the bus stop and Gypsy would sleep in our flowerbed just outside my bedroom window. I was never allowed to feed them, but they stayed around anyway...until they eventually got picked up by the pound. My husband Charlie, years later, would be somewhat of the same sort, sitting at the street car stop waiting for me with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging. It was lovable at first. Charlie, the dog, was lovable until the day he was gone.

I remember that ache. I wanted a pet so badly. I sense the same longing in my oldest son. I know I should give it to him. I have no excuse now, we have a house, we have a yard, come on Kaye, you can do this.

The dog fell in love with the boys immediately. They brought him inside the house and Jesus, he smelled. In the bath tub he went. Unbelievably, though I could tell he was scared to death, he sat perfectly still while I lathered him up in Aveda Blue Malva, the water running off him was black with soot and the god awful smell. I got him out, rubbed him down and thought, “ Ok, I can do this.”

He ran down the hall and immediately shit in the hall. FUCK!! “ Put him outside before he pees everywhere!!!!”

He howled under the house all night, the guilt was overwhelming. He must be part beagle to howl like that?

The next day when I got home from work he was gone...thank God. It’s not my fault...I shrugged off my guilt as easily as brushing a butterfly from your shoulder.

There was a note on the door, a delivery?

“ I found your dog. Please call me as soon as possible.”

“ NO”

“ Hello, hi...I’m calling in reference to the dog you found...he’s not mine, he’s just kind of adopted us, anyway... do you want him? Call me back, my number is....”

“ Hi, this is Susan, your neighbor who found the dog....listen, I took him to the pound, I didn’t know what else to do with him, I have four dogs already. If you want him, the number is....his ID number is....they’re going to put him to sleep on the twentieth. I sure hope you’ll go and get him, he’s so cute...”

FUCK.