“What’s going on, Bob?” she asks.

I listen, like I always do, for her bark. That bark.

Nope. Nothing.

I wish Rowdy were here to distract me. But he’s still learning how to walk on a tug-of-war string.

He’s a pretty swell pup, even if he is a little feisty. I’m surprised how much I like having him around the house.

It’s weird. I feel responsible for the little guy. Sorta like he’s become my numero uno.

Julia bends down and strokes my head. I wag my tail a bit, slowly stand. I think of poor old Droolius stuck in that backyard, day and night. I think of Boss, roaming the streets. I think of my siblings, the dark night, the box, the highway.

I’m trying hard to find the forgiveness that seems to come so naturally to other dogs. Maybe that’s what Boss was getting at. Maybe it’s easier to forgive others once you’ve learned how to forgive yourself.

I’m working on it. It’s like a bone. Sometimes you have to chew for a long time before you make any progress.

snickers, again

Once we’re home, I head for the couch. I’m snoozing peacefully with Rowdy when a smell, a doozy of a smell, assaults my schnozz, which is finally back to working order.

It’s her.

Snickers is back.

She’s been gone for a while. After the hurricane, they had to do some repairs to Mack’s house. Not sure where Snickers has been staying, but that’s definitely her I smell, no doubt about it.

I dive under the couch, but not before Nutwit appears at the front window. “Oh, Bobbo!” he calls. “Someone’s looking for you!”

“I’m not home,” I yell.

“Yeah, I don’t think she’ll take no for an answer,” says Nutwit.

“Shouldn’t you be rebuilding your nest?”

“Naw. Watching you cower in fear is way more fun.”

“What’s the deal, Uncle Bob?” Rowdy asks.

“Be afraid, Rowdy,” I say. “Be very afraid.”

The door opens, and there’s Julia with Snickers by her side.

“Well, hello there, Snickers,” says Sara as she passes through the living room. “What are you doing here?”

“Mack and his wife just moved back in,” Julia says. “They called this afternoon and said Snickers was dying for a walk.”

I ease back a little farther under the couch. Can Snickers see me? Maybe not. But she can most definitely smell me.

For once I regret my pungent aroma.

Snickers darts across the living room straight to the couch, pulling Julia along for the ride.

“Snickers!” Julia exclaims. “Slow down, girl!” She kneels. “Bob, are you hiding under there?”

I move an inch, exposing my snout.