“And then I said…”
“It sounds like he’s tired,” Julia said.
“Tired? Of course he’s tired. We are all tired,” Carol had just finished describing to her friend Julie on the phone how she had harshly corrected her husband for three things she considered glaring omissions in his duties at home. She vigorously polished an antique brass urn as she spoke into her bluetooth head piece in the Antiques and Oddities shop she ran on Main Street of their Missouri town. The bell jangled on the door, interrupting her conversation, as a man entered the store with a golden retriever in a companion dog harness. “I have to go. I have a customer,” and she hung up the phone.
“Hi! Welcome. What can I help you find?” She asked, as she flashed the beautiful, scintillating smile she used to welcome all her customers. The cheerful affect did not belie her previous marital complaint.
The man returned the greeting with a broad smile and removed his white baseball cap. “Just stepping out of the heat,” he said, and placed the cap on a shelf inside the door before running his hand through his hair. “Looks like it’s gonna be a scorcher.” His dog stepped forward toward Carol.
“Oh, what a nice boy,” Carol looked at the beautifully formed animal sporting a long, wavy coat with a deep red-gold color. He looked at her and wagged his tail. “It’s going to be a busy Fourth of July weekend,” she said as she admired the dog. “What with everyone getting ready for the fireworks…”
“Yes, I think so. Most dogs are afraid of fireworks, but Shep is an unusual dog; he loves them.”
“Let me have a look at you,” Carol put her urn down and stepped around the counter to kneel before the cheerful creature that seemed to greet her with every cell in his body.
“Yes, that is exactly what I want. For you to greet him.”
Carol placed her hands on both sides of the dog’s head and noticed he possessed an astonishing ability to fix his eyes on hers. “He’s such a lovely boy–” her voice trailed off as she felt an unusual sensation while looking at him. She withdrew her hands and leaned back. His countenance had subtly changed. No longer cheerful and welcoming, he looked sharp, almost businesslike or even angry. Carol looked up at the owner, puzzled with concern, as she noticed the obvious change.
At that moment, the doorbell jingled again, and a woman entered pushing a handsome Chihuahua in a stroller, standing in bold fashion, his feet firmly planted on the front of the carriage.
The once cheerful retriever snarled at the small intruder. “Oh,” the owner of the dog said, but seemingly without concern, “he is usually not like that. I guess we better let you get on with your work. And as quickly as he arrived, he left.
In the meantime, Carol was trying to shake the feeling that something was amiss, but turning herself from her private musings, she shifted her attention to the woman who had entered with the small dog. Ordinarily, Carol disliked the smaller breeds. They are yappy and a nuisance; she had thought to herself many times. But now she could see how much joy this tiny animal brought to its owner. “Oh, tell me about your dog.” She felt genuine interest, realizing that she had fixed her attention on the owner with the express intention of being an encouragement to her.
The woman hesitated as she regarded the shop owner. “Well,” she paused, apparently trying to decide how much she would share. “After my husband‘s cancer diagnosis, someone suggested I get a dog to keep me company for the long hours in the hospital. He is a rescue, but from an older woman who loved him but could no longer keep him. I got him as a companion dog so I could take him with me to visit my husband. Today, I have a break while my kids are there visiting him.”
“Oh my, how sad that your husband has cancer.”
“Yes, I can barely bring myself to think about it. He’s only 59. Fortunately, the doctor says, it will be a condition that requires management, but not lethal, so that’s great news, but this is certainly not what we expected going into our retirement.”
“Let me know if I can help. Oh! I just bought the Swiss pastry that I was going to have for lunch, but would you like to share it now? I have a pot of coffee.”
The woman hesitated again. “Yes, I would love that,” though she appeared surprised at the offer. “I actually haven’t been able to eat very much since all this began, and something tempting like coffee and a Swiss pastry is more than I can resist.”
Together, they sat sharing life stories, and within the half hour this new friend had departed with her Chihuahua in her arms, wagging its tail and licking her cheek. The shop owner sighed as they left, enjoying the happy exchange.
At that moment, Carol’s husband entered the shop. His visit was unexpected. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy to see you,” it almost felt like she was gushing. Stepping forward, she slid her arms under his, stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
He looked startled. “I was actually coming to apologize that I forgot to take my things out of your office yesterday.”
“You’re apologizing for that?” She asked. “That is such a small thing. Oh, but I know I fussed at you, and I’m sorry.” She hugged him once again and kissed him, this time on the shoulder, as he was taller than her.
His puzzled expression did not alter. “And about the boots, I’m sorry about forgetting to take off my muddy boots.”
“The boots that brought you home,” she fixed her gaze on him, and spontaneously danced back-and-forth still holding him in her arms.
“And about your grandmother’s dish–” his voice trailed off, his expression looking miserable.
“It happens.”
“What has come over you?” His eyes narrowed in concern.
Now, it was Carol’s turn to look puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“You seem so…” his voice trailed off, “different.”
The bells tinkled as the door swung open. The stranger with the golden retriever stepped in. “Looks like I almost forgot my hat,” he said, reaching for the white cap on the shelf next to the door.
Carol knelt down to greet the dog once more. “Oh, you handsome fellow,” she held his head in her hands as she had before, and felt him lock his eyes on her. She experienced a strange thrill of recognition as he gazed at her. Wagging his tail, he sat down. Something had changed again. The dog was back to his cheerful self, not the grumpy animal that snapped at a chihuahua, and yet, somehow she felt he had shared with, or imbued her with his cheerfulness. She glanced at her husband, who stood watching, and turned back to the dog. “I see it now,” she said in a whisper, “I’ll do better. Thank you.” She threw her arms around the dog’s neck and hugged him.
“He sure has taken a shine to you,” the stranger said with a knowing smile, looking down at Carol. “It looks to me like he’s hoping you’ll never forget him.”
“And I hope I never will,” she said, standing as she regarded the man. “Don’t be a stranger. You’ll come back in, won’t you? You and Shep?”
“Well, no, I reckon we’ve done all we came for,” he said with a broad smile and shook hands with both Carol and her husband.
And with that, the stranger and his dog walked out the door.