The Dog
Sara did not want a dog. She had enough on her plate. At home she was the chief cook and bottle washer, she had a full time job, a clunker of a car, and of course total care of their son. Jack was away more than he was home. Sure he promised to see about reassignment but like all his promises – worth nothing. At least her dad came by occasionally to lend a hand and do the minor repairs.
Jack had alluded to having another kid but she nipped that discussion in the bud.
"Every kid needs a dog." That's what he said when he brought that mutt home.
Who'd feed it?
Who'd walk it?
Who'd clean up after it?
Who'd vacuum the hair from all over the furniture?
She didn't even want to begin to think vet bills or about fleas and the danger to Charlie from the ticks it could bring home.
Charlie begged and promised. And the mutt was already here licking his face and wagging its tail. What could she do?
So when Charlie had the accident with the gun of course Jack said the dog saved his life. The boy was devastated. His dog was dead and he felt it was all his fault. Sara said the gun would never have gone off if the dog hadn't jumped up.
Jack wrapped the pup in an old towel and buried him in the back yard while she fumed. It was really all Jack's fault, him and his damned guns, and a loaded one at that.
And leaving it, a loaded weapon, where Charlie could get at it was the last straw. Sara packed a bag for Charlie and one for herself and took Charlie on vacation. Before she left she told Jack to clear out before they came back. Hell would freeze over before she would let someone so irresponsible ever see Charlie again.