Don't Ask

At 1:30 a.m. she was still gone. Way past curfew. Way past caring. I said, fine you want to get laid this time of night then that's your business but I'm not worrying if you're half dead on the side of the road. Good night.

The next morning, around 5 a.m. I heard that poof of a bark. A mindless involuntary response. And then again and this was more than a poof. I'd left the door open to the apartment in case, as well as the two doors to the building, and all the windows. Of course, that's the whole problem. Leave them open the width of a pencil and she's gone. I also put out some food.

I get up, go outside and there she is, latched to her leash, under a tree. I approach and she slithers toward me like Shylock looking for a bob. I was glad to see the bitch; I let her go.

"It wasn't my fault," she began. "I met this boy and he...."

"Skip it," I said. "I don't want to know."

She wagged her tail, not having to tell me a long cock 'n bull story about her 'boyfriend.'

"It's weird out there at night," she said, wanting to tell me and not tell me, but hoping I would have at least some questions.

I don't want to know, I told her, and we left it at that.