My wife, Margaret, wasnt a bad person just empty, somehow. Thirty years together and still, she remained a stranger to me. Work, the sofa, and the telly filled her days. Now and then shed throw out a few short phrases Is dinner ready?, Where are my socks? and that was about it.
Once she was gone, the flat became even quieter.
Our children had grown up and moved away. They only called on birthdays and Christmas, rushing through the motions: Dad, how are you? Everything alright? Okay, love you, bye! Then it was silence again.
Once upon a time, Margaret was fond of animals. Shed dreamed as a girl of becoming a vet, but her parents dismissed it as childish nonsense. Now, she didnt really know what she wanted herself.
She only felt sure of one thing: the world was dangerous, full of traps. Whenever she came home from Tesco or the GP, she looked over her shoulder, wary of anything alive.
But today, a dog had followed her.
Thats why she hurried along, nearly breaking into a run. Her shopping bag thumped against her thigh heavy with bread and a bottle of milk. Her keys jingled in her coat pocket; she gripped them so tightly that her fingers tingled numbly.
Just dont look back.
But she did glance back.
The dog padded after her about ten yards behind, never coming any closer. Mangy, scrawny, a muddied russet with matted fur clinging to its sides. Its head hung low, tail tucked right under as if it were apologising just for existing.
Still, it kept following, not giving up.
Good grief, Margaret muttered, picking up her pace.
Why me? Why me of all people?
Shed noticed the mongrel earlier near the bins behind the supermarket, rifling through bin bags. Margaret didnt break stride; she passed with her head turned away. You never knew with strays could be dangerous.
She used to love dogs, though. When she lived at home as a girl, her parents kept a shaggy black collie called Patch gentle, loyal. But after she got married, I wouldnt allow pets: too much mess, too many smells, hair everywhere.
She was late leaving Sainsburys; shed spent ages queuing, changed her mind about the sausages, went back to get something else and by then, it was getting dark. The streetlamps flickered half-heartedly. No one around, just the dog ambling behind her.
Margaret looked over her shoulder still, the dog trailed her. No barking, no growling. It just followed and watched.
Yellow eyes, cautious, gleaming.
What did it want?
Get lost! Margaret yelled, waving her arm. Go on now, shoo!
The dog stopped. Sat on its haunches. Didnt leave.
What do you want from me? The words came out shrill with fear.
Silence. Only the wind moaning through the swings in the deserted playground.
Margaret spun back round and hurried off, almost running now. Her bag swung wildly, probably squashing the loaf to crumbs inside. Her heart thudded so hard it hammered in her temples.
Two more roads to go. Just two.
Leave me alone, she whispered to the empty street. Please, just go!
And finally, her building loomed ahead: flaky blue paint peeling off the front door. She lunged towards it and all but tripped over the curb, steadying herself just in time.
Keys. Where were her keys?
Her hands shook. She fumbled through her pockets, dropped her glove, stooped to pick it up, started searching again.
Oh, come on
Right then, a man stepped out from around the corner.
He swayed unsteadily anyone could see he was drunk. His coat hung open, cap askew, bottle clutched clumsily in one hand.
Alright, love? His voice was rough, with a mocking twist. In a bit of a hurry, are we?
Margaret froze. The keys slipped through her fingers and clattered onto the concrete.
I just want to get home, she managed.
Home, eh? He staggered closer; his breath was sour, sharp with stale booze. Got any money? Help a bloke get sorted in the morning?
I havent got anything, honestly.
Dont lie to me!
He lunged, grabbing at her shopping bag. She cried out and tried to yank it back, failing. He tugged harder, sending her to her knees.
Let go! Let go of me!
I said hand it over! He shook her roughly, like a ragdoll.
And then, out of the shadows, something russet streaked.
The dog.
It didnt bark it just leapt and clamped onto the mans sleeve. Its jaws snapped, fabric tore. The man howled, batting at it, but it latched on tight, not letting go.
Bloody hell! Get off me!
He swung the bottle the dog dodged, released his sleeve, and sank its teeth into his trouser leg. It growled deep and furious, yellow eyes flaring in the darkness.
The man toppled onto the pavement. The bottle flew out of his hand and shattered against the kerb. He tried to scramble up, but the dog jumped again, aiming for his chest, his throat.
Get it off! For Gods sake, get it off!
But Margaret could only kneel there, clutching her bag, staring.
Staring as this scrawny, battered, unwanted dog leapt to shield her.
The man jerked up, kicked the dog away it was flung aside, but dashed at him again. He didnt wait; he twisted away and shambled off, cursing, almost falling as he hurried down the street.
The dog stayed, watching him stagger into the night. Then it turned slowly to look at Margaret.
She was still sitting on the cold pavement, trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks she hadnt even noticed when shed started crying.
Oh, God, she whispered.
The dog came over and stopped a step away. Sat down, justwaited. Those same yellow eyes, but now without suspicion.
Margaret wiped her face with her sleeve. Scooped up her keys. Stood up her knees wobbly, needing to lean on the wall for support.
The dog didnt move.
You, her voice cracked, You saved me.
The dog just sat, gently wagging its tail as if it were all nothing out of the ordinary.
And I was frightened of you.
Margaret opened the door to her block. She stepped inside and turned back.
The dog sat where it was, not begging, just waiting.
Margaret suddenly realised this was her decision. Right here, right now.
She could slam the door, go upstairs, lock herself in her empty flat. Lonely silence, just as always.
Or
Come on, she called softly. Youd better come in. At least you can warm up.
The dog didnt move at first. It was as if she didnt quite trust her luck.
Then, carefully, hesitantly, she crept into the hallway.
Margaret closed the door behind her.
The dog stood awkwardly in the little hall unsure, pulling her paws in close as if she was afraid to take up space.
Margaret set her bag on the floor and shrugged off her coat. Her hands still trembled with fear, with shock, with the whole weight of what had just happened.
This dog had saved herand shed feared her more than shed ever feared people.
Wait here, she said and went into the kitchen.
She found an old chipped bowl, filled it with water, and brought it into the hallway.
The dog lapped thirstily, nearly choking in her eagerness. Water splashed on the lino Margaret didnt mind.
She looked at her and wondered: when did you last eat, girl?
Hold on, Margaret whispered. Ill sort you out.
She rummaged in the fridge not much inside. Leftover mince from yesterday and a slice of cheddar. She heated the meat in the pan, broke it up into the bowl.
The dog didnt move, just watched waiting for permission.
Go on then, Margaret nodded. Its alright.
She ate quickly but not greedily.
Margaret knelt beside her, slow and careful. She reached out to touch the rough, matted fur.
The dog stiffened. Looked up, wary.
Dont be scared, Margaret whispered. Im frightened too, you see? Both of us afraid.
She stroked her gently over the head, along the bony back. The fur was harsh and tangled, but warm.
The dog sighed and closed her eyes, pressing gently into Margarets hand.
I couldnt help but weep this stray mongrel had trailed me home for a reason.
For the first time in three years, I didnt feel alone.
Not just someone being there but someone needing me.
This dog, whod protected me.
You know, I said quietly, it seems to me were much the same. Unwanted, frightened by everyone, everything.
I wiped away the last of my tears.
She looked up and, with great care, licked my hand once.
I smiled properly, for the first time in what felt like forever.
Youll live with me, I said firmly. I wont send you away. Not ever.
I got up and fetched an old blanket, laid it out by the radiator.
There you are. Have a rest. This is your home now.
The dog curled up tight and sighed, deeply content.
And as I sat down beside her, my hand resting on her warm side, the quiet flat didnt feel frightening any more.
For I wasnt alone.
The world felt that little bit safer, and the warmth came from where Id least expected it.
People are right, arent they? Youve more to fear from people than animals. With animals, at least, you can come to an understanding. Dont you think?
