Come Home, Angelica

The house got awfully lonely whenever Angelica wasn’t home. It was just me and her in this big, old house. She said it was small, but it was pretty big to me, at least.  When I stood on my hind legs, I wasn’t even as tall as the kitchen table, but Angelica was. Angelica was tall. Maybe that’s why she thought the house was so small. I was short. Maybe that’s why I thought it was so big. It seemed even bigger whenever she wasn’t home.

I always looked forward to when Angelica got home. I’d waddle to the front door to meet her and she’d pick me up calling me a “Good girl” as we went into the kitchen to eat dinner. Angelica spoiled me. That’s why the doctor always said I was “Overweight” for a pug. Whatever that means. I was just a little chubby, and all of Angelica’s friends thought I was positively adorable. For a pug, at least. I wasn’t the prettiest, but Angelica loved me. And that’s all that mattered.

Well, her coming home also mattered, which she had yet to do. I was hungry, and lonely. The husky next door was outside, but I was too chubby to fit through the doggy door. So I laid waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And Angelica still wasn’t home.

I wish she would hurry up. If she didn’t, she was gonna miss her Monday night shows. And I wouldn’t be fed. Angelica promised me a hamburger tonight. I’ve never had that before, and I really wanted it.

The sound of keys in the door made me pop up and run to it. I waited patiently for the door to open, my little curl wagging back and forth furiously. When the door opened… It wasn’t Angelica. It was her sister, Gina. She looked sad. Gina wasn’t a sad person. Mrs. Katy next door was a sad person, but Gina wasn’t.

I didn’t run to meet her, but instead turned and went back to my pillow. I wasn’t interested in Gina, I was interested in Angelica.

“Honey,” Her voice wavered slightly as she called my name. I looked back at her, only to see her coming towards me. “Come here, Honey. We gotta go.”

Where to? Why? I didn’t wanna leave without Angelica. Then she wouldn’t know where I was, and she’d get worried like that one time I went next door to visit the husky.

I tried to waddle away, but she grabbed me and lifted me gently. I squirmed, but she didn’t let go.

“Angie wanted me to come get you…” she sniffed softly. “So funny, her last words were ones making me promise to come get you…”

Last words? What? Last words before what?

I whimpered, trying to get her attention, but she just carried me out of the house and took me to her car. She put me in her back seat and closed the door. I started barking. Not at her, not at the car, but at Angelica. Maybe wherever she was, she would hear me and come get me. Why wasn’t Angelica home but Gina was?

I kept barking until Gina opened the driver’s door and yelled. “Shut up, you stupid dog!” Offended, I sat back and barked again. “I said shut up! Angelica isn’t coming for you! She isn’t coming for anyone! She’s dead you stupid mutt!” Gina barked back in response.

Dead?

How could…

Angelica wasn’t dead.

She couldn’t be.

“I can’t believe she loved such a stupid dog so much…” Gina muttered to herself.

Angelica.

Angelica was coming home.

Angelica had to come home.

I whined softly, leaning back against the seat. Gina looked at me with sad eyes, realizing what she had done and sighed. Slowly she climbed into the car and sat into her chair.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay.”

And then, we left.

And Angelica never came home.