WHAT! IS! THIS! COZY! BOX! THIS! WOULD! MAKE! A! GREAT! BED! FOR! ME! I! LOVE! ITS! SIDES! AND! THIS! ELASTIC! STRAP!
“That is a suitcase. I have to put my things in it so I can travel.”
“Great. I’m already in it, so you’re ready to go!”
“Sadly, I can’t have you in it. It’s for my clothes and shoes and shaving kit.”
“Why can’t I be in it? I am one of your things!”
I sat down beside the suitcase and scratched the back of her head, between her ears. “You are, in fact, my most treasured thing.” She raised her nose in the air and squinted her eyes. “But you’re going to stay nearby and have an adventure of your own.”
Lily looked at me with her soulful, almond-shaped eyes. “We’re going on different adventures?” She was tugging my heartstrings the way she tugged at my shoelace at the puppy farm when we were introduced—slowly, but with purpose.
“Your adventure will be fun. You’re going to play with other puppies, the way you used to play with your brother and sisters, Harry, Kelly, and Rita.”
“Harry, Kelly, and Rita?”
“That’s right. But other puppies whose names I don’t know, but I’m sure are just as nice.”
The boarding facility I had selected was a ways outside the city and it was clean and welcoming and alive. Dogs roamed indoors and outdoors on their own whim, and there was a special place sectioned off for smaller and younger dogs. Inside, it smelled like pine.
A woman welcomed us and did her best to allay our fears; Lily and I were both apprehensive. “Is this Lily? Welcome, Lily. I think you’re going to love the other dachshunds here. Their names are Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee.”
Lily turned to me. “Are they the other puppies whose names you didn’t know?”
“That’s right. Except now I do know their names. They are Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee.”
“They are not Harry and Kelly and Rita?”
“No, they are Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee.”
Lily considered this for a moment before adding, “My mother’s name is Witchie-Poo.”
I scooped up Lily and balanced her on my arm. “They don’t need to know that.”
The woman took the canvas tote from my shoulder that held Lily’s blanket and food. I repositioned Lily so her paws were on my shoulder and I could whisper in her ear. “I’m coming back for you. In a week. Don’t ever think I’m not coming back.”
“When are you coming back?”
“In seven sleeps. I am coming back for you.”
I kissed her on the top of her head and sat her on the ground. I handed her leash to the lady, so that she was now in control of my dog. “C’mon,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee.” Then she turned to me. “She’ll be fine.”
I nodded. I knew this. But also not. Would she? Be fine? Lily stood and turned back to look at me and we both swallowed the lumps in our throats.
The lady opened the gate to the smaller dogs’ pen and I caught a glimpse of the other three dachshunds. Two of them were long-haired, and one was short-haired like Lily. I imagined the short-haired dachshund to be Sadie because she had a dappled coat and looked most different from the other two, who just happened to look like Sophies. All three greeted Lily with wagging tails.
HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! I’M! SADIE! I’M! SOPHIE! I’M! SOPHIE! DEE!
Lily paused before her tail started to wag and she entered the pen. Once inside she disappeared in a blur of paws and tails and ears as the gate closed behind her. The last thing I heard was her distinctive bark.
I’M! LILY!
In my car I broke down in ridiculous sobs.
How does she know I’m coming back? How does she know I didn’t just give her away?
Because she trusts me.
Just as I should trust Jeffrey. There’s a perfectly rational explanation for that text. I want to play means poker. I turn to Jeffrey and his laptop is back open with his earphones plugged in. I’ve drifted. I made a fuss about his watching TV and then promptly checked out.
I take a deep breath and try to reengage, tapping him on the shoulder, pulling the earbud out of his left ear. “We each have a few days before we have to be back to work. How would you feel about going to San Francisco?”
I wait for him to react. I wait for his body to physically reject the spontaneity. I wait for him to keep the sunshine out, to make an excuse as to why he has to stay in Los Angeles, something to cover this “playing” with Cliff.
But instead he simply smiles and says, “Okay.”
Backbone
My cell phone rings in an ominous way, sounding almost flat, the way it does when you know something is wrong before you answer the phone. I fumble to retrieve it from my pocket and the call almost goes to voicemail before I can answer. There’s no time for anything to be amiss; we leave for Meredith’s wedding in the morning.
It’s Jeffrey. “Something’s wrong with Lily. You need to come home.”
I look at my watch. It’s a little past three o’clock in the afternoon and I am more or less on my way home anyway. I’m just leaving the grocery store and the last thing on my list is to pick up our suits for the wedding from the dry cleaners.
“Can it wait thirty more minutes?”
I think of all the things that might be wrong with Lily. Vomiting. Diarrhea. Neither pleasant, but neither the end of the world. Too many treats from her Christmas stocking. Limping? She once had
