She didn’t bother to try to work out which of her former partners was crying his eyes out for her. On this occasion too, it was more tempting to generate the situation, although she wasn’t going to do it with any man. She visited her aunt and asked for the keys to the house that had belonged to her grandmother, who’d died just two months before. She bought a golden retriever puppy, put it in the car, and drove to her hometown. The puppy rode in the passenger seat, wagging its tail happily and licking her hand every time she changed gear. When she reached the family home she filled a large dish with water and another with dog food and put them in the master bedroom. Then she carried the puppy up to that old room, still smelling of salt and fat, where her grandmother used to cure hams. She locked the puppy inside for a day. The dog’s constant whines prevented her from getting any rest. To escape the noise, she took a drive through the valley, walked for two hours through a holm-oak wood, and climbed to a ruined castle. She stopped at three bars along the highway. That night she played albums by groups she hadn’t listened to since her teenage years with the volume up: Slayer, Cradle of Filth, Black Sabbath, Theatre of Tragedy. From time to time she paused the music to listen to the puppy’s howls. It was a Tuesday in February; the family home occupied a whole block, and her only concern was that the puppy’s howling could be heard from the street. But none of the neighbors appeared to have contacted her aunt and uncle to tell them about the noise coming from the house. The bedroom was well soundproofed. At four in the morning, when the whining had quieted, she considered the possibility that the puppy was dead. She drank more beer and didn’t turn down the music until the sun was high in the sky. When she went up the stairs to the bedroom she was too drunk to feel fear. She opened the door; the puppy ran to her. Despite its obvious weakness, it continued wagging its tail. Maybe it was only confusion. It had vomited and was shivering.

Miracles and clairvoyance are real. But there are a lot of sly dogs around. I suggest a Hidden Truth Tarot. Call: 415-295-5143