Short Story

by MAUREEN HILLIER

‘Please can we keep her mummy?’ Ruth looked at her eight-year-old son Tom. She knew she should say no, but he had been so withdrawn and quiet since his father left them a year ago, perhaps taking in this dog would make all the difference.

They first noticed the dog a week ago. It was sitting across the road watching the house, then suddenly appeared at the back door. She was a black and white mongrel with the name Bess on her collar, but no address. They had put an ad in the local paper and the shops, but no one had come forward.

Ruth discussed it with her mother.

“It's strange” she said, “Bess is very good with Tom but she seemed to be watching me all the time, she follows me from room to room.” Ruth's mother laughed “Maybe she is deciding whether this is the suitable home for her?”

Tom was overjoyed when Ruth said he could keep Bess. The dog wagged her tail but then turned to look at Ruth. Their eyes met, Ruth felt uneasy.

At first the dog seemed content but after a few days she began to scratch at the garden gate. Not knowing how she would react on a lead, Ruth decided to try her in the park. Once inside the gate she slipped off the lead, but Bess ran back onto the road. When Ruth reached her Bess ran on further. Ruth wondered if Bess was leading her back to her original home. It was not long before they came to an old bungalow. Bess disappeared through a gap in the fence. Ruth knocked at the door but there was no answer. She could hear barking inside so looked through the letter box. There was a figure lying on the floor at the end of the corridor. A phone call from a neighbour’s house soon brought the police and ambulance.

Ruth stayed out of the way until a policeman came to her. He said it looked like the lady had died from a heart attack. ‘I thought that maybe the stray dog we had taken in came from here’ said Ruth. ‘No’ said the constable, ‘That’s not possible. The lady’s dog had been dead for some time. It looked as though she had deliberately gone without food and water so there would be enough for her puppy.’

At that moment another policeman came out carrying a tiny black and white puppy. "What was the name of the dog that died?" she asked. ‘Oh I can tell you that’ the neighbour said. ‘It was Bess’.

Ruth never told anyone what had happened. Who would ever believe that Bess had chosen her as a suitable home for her puppy?

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