Baxter Didn't Recognize Me shortscarystories

When I walked through the door today, the dog didn’t recognize me. There was no rush to greet me or enthusiastic tail wags. Instead he growled softly. I walked toward him, hand outstretched and palm down.

“Hey, boy. What’s wrong?” I asked him.

He bristled as I approached, curling his upper lip almost imperceptibly.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” I said as I walked to the kitchen. I poured myself a drink as I considered the situation. That was not like Baxter at all. Maybe he was sick, or maybe he hurt himself. Whatever the cause, he had started barking at me. I couldn’t figure out why his demeanor would have changed so radically from the dog I knew.

I thought about calling the vet, going so far as to pull the magnet with the phone number off of the refrigerator, before the clock caught my eye. It was close to six, and Michelle would be home soon. She’d know what to do, and we could decide together about Baxter.

I stood in the kitchen sipping on my rye and soda, listening to Baxter’s increasingly hoarse barks. I could barely hear the click of a key in the lock. Michelle was home, thank god. I sat my drink on the counter and listened to the click, click, click of her heels on the tile floor.

“Baxter? What in God’s name are you barking at?” She yelled from the living room. Baxter turned from me and ran to greet her. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

Michelle walked toward the kitchen, with Baxter leading the way and barking. I could hear her approaching slowly, with caution. I almost yelled out to her, to tell her that it was all right. That it was just me. Instead, I held my tongue.

When she turned the corner to the kitchen, she screamed. That was so unlike her.

“Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?”

I shushed her, shaking my head as I walked toward her. This is not at all the reaction I expected. It was almost as if she didn’t want us to be a family.

“It’s okay,” I said in my most soothing tone of voice. “I was a little bit concerned about Baxter, and I wanted to know if we should take him to the vet?”

Michelle began to cry. “How...how do you know my dog’s name?” she asked, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

It broke my heart, it really did. Did she think she was alone in the world, that no one would be there to help her when she needed it? Like, for example, when there was something clearly wrong with our dog.

As Baxter continued to bark, I approached her and gathered her up in my arms. “Shh,” I whispered into her hair as she struggled against me. “It’s all right now. We’re a family, and everything is going to be all right.”

Submitted April 01, 2017 at 08:53AM by Middlenameredundant http://ift.tt/2oJS32R shortscarystories