Digger stood and stared at the closed front door, listening to the sound of Joe's truck as it faded into the night, laboring to pull the caravan. The old dog whined a little and then was silent.
"Digger," Elsie called from somewhere beyond the hallway.
Digger looked back towards Elsie's voice and then, after a moment's hesitation, he turned back to the door. After a while, he heard the rumble of a vehicle, getting louder, coming back towards the farmhouse, and his tail wagged, until the rumble passed and faded into the night once more.
Digger didn't know that he had been left again, abandoned again. That didn't matter to him. Dogs don't worry about the future and they don't care about the ghosts of the past. If Digger saw Joe again he'd just be so happy to see him, he wouldn't care about all the time Joe had been away. Dogs live only in the present, they're better that way.
Digger stood staring at the closed front door. The old dog whined a little and then was silent.
"Digger," Elsie called again.
Digger liked Elsie, he was always happy to see Elsie because Elsie always had a treat for him. The old mutt was somewhere warm and somewhere dry. Somewhere nearby, in his present, was a nice old lady with a biscuit shaped like a bone for him.
The old dog turned from the door and trotted away down the hall.
YOU ARE READING
Sleeping Dogs Lie
ParanormalJoe is a mystic, a medium, a speaker for the dead. He's clever and full of gypsy charm. But what is he really, and what will be the consequences of finding out?
