Step By Step
Murphy was Owen's dog. They all knew that, even if Owen still tried to insist that Murphy was a family pet.
It was not that Murphy didn't like or didn't spend time with Claire or Maisie. In fact, Murphy would always immediately seek out Claire when she arrived home (or he did, if he'd been out). And he much preferred when Claire took care of all his grooming needs (from baths, to brushing, to nail clipping). Maisie, on the other hand, was his go-to person for snuggling on the couch; he was always happy to curl up beside the girl so he could get pets and belly rubs while she watched tv.
Still, it was clear that Murphy's favourite person was Owen, as he would be beside him from the moment Owen got up until Owen went to bed, as Murphy wasn't allowed into the bedroom (Claire's rule). Most days, he went to work with Owen, happily hanging out in Owen's office or assisting with training both new dogs and new trainers. On the relatively rare occasions that Owen couldn't take Murphy with him, Murphy usually went to work with Claire as he enjoyed the DPG offices. And, on the even more rare occasions where that wasn't possible, Murphy would be left home.
So when Owen had to go out of town to do a check-in with one of the veterans who had been assigned a service dog (one of the dogs from Murphy's original training group, actually), no one really thought twice about the fact that Murphy would have to stay behind. After all, Owen hadn't been able to take Murphy along when he'd done his check-ins with all the other vets. And it was only for two nights, and Claire and Maisie were more than capable of taking care of him during that time.
Owen left on a Tuesday. Murphy ended up spending part of the day home alone, as Claire had a series of meetings that she knew would mean she couldn't take Murphy out as often as she'd like. Owen's flight wasn't until just after lunch, so he'd decided to spend the morning at home with Murphy until he left.
However, that evening, Claire noticed that Murphy seemed to be searching for Owen. Especially once dinner had come and gone, and Owen still hadn't reappeared. Murphy was constantly wandering into the laundry room as if to go out into the garage (where Owen liked to spend a lot of time). While Murphy had happily gone for a walk with Claire when she'd first arrived home, as the evening wore on, and as Owen still didn't appear, Murphy was definitely looking more and more downtrodden.
So much so, that Claire even told Owen as much when she talked with him later that night, and so they'd put him on a Facetime call and had shown it to Murphy. Murphy had just looked confused, trying to understand how he could hear Owen but couldn't get to him. He'd circled the phone a few times, as if Owen must be behind it, and then licked it a couple of times as well.
When Claire had finally gone to bed, Murphy had followed her up the stairs, although he did stay outside the bedroom as trained. After Claire had finished her nighttime routine, she'd crept back over to the door and carefully checked, relieved to see that Murphy was no longer sitting outside, but had seemed to have decided to go to his own bed.
However, the following morning when she opened her bedroom door, Murphy was already there waiting. And the moment there was enough space, he darted past her into the room, quickly circling it and the ensuite before coming back to her, his tail hanging between his legs.
"Sorry, Murph," Claire consoled him, patting him on his head. "Your dad's still away. But he'll be home tomorrow, promise."
Murphy followed her down the stairs and she let him out into the backyard while she started prepping breakfast and making Maisie's lunch.
Murphy didn't stray far from her all morning, only staying outside just long enough to go the bathroom before he was pawing at the door to come back in. When Claire finally left for work, she took him with her instead of leaving him home alone.
Everyone at the DPG loved Murphy, and she hoped that being surrounded by them for the day would keep him distracted and maybe cheer him up. She did briefly debate calling Owen, before deciding that it may actually just make things worse.
Being at the DPG definitely helped, as Murphy spent the morning moving from person to person, getting pets, cuddles and treats wherever he went. But in the afternoon he started to get noticeably antsy, and so Claire called it a day early, deciding that maybe an extra long walk, or a trip to the dog park was in order. That maybe if she tired him out, he would forget that he was missing Owen. Although, considering she was missing Owen too, she knew it wasn't going to work as well as she'd hoped.
Still, she took him to the dog park and watched him run around for a while, even consenting to throwing the ball for him for half an hour. There were a few other energetic dogs there that kept him busy the rest of the time, allowing Claire to work from her phone, just occasionally looking up to check on him. Not that she really needed to. Murphy was well trained, and would come by and check in with her every so often, getting a pat on the head before he trotted off again.
Even after their busy afternoon, however, the moment Claire opened the door into the house, Murphy shot past her, and she could hear him running throughout the whole house, still looking for Owen. By the time he'd given up on his search, she was in the kitchen sorting out what she felt like making for dinner.
Murphy seemed intent on sticking to her side, since he couldn't locate Owen, but the end result was that he was constantly underfoot. Claire wondered how the hell Owen managed to normally cook with Murphy around. The third time she tripped over him, fed up, she marched over to the door to the backyard and pulled it open, pointing out into the yard forcefully. "Out, Murphy. Go burn off some of your energy in the backyard."
Thankfully, he obeyed easily, and once he was outside, she shut the door and turned back to her task at hand. After getting dinner into the oven, Claire disappeared into her office, trying to catch up on some more of the work she'd left unfinished earlier as she waited for the oven timer to go off. And it wasn't until it did, and she was calling Maisie down for dinner, that she even remembered that Murphy was still outside.
She looked over at the back door, but he wasn't there. Normally, when he was ready to come in, he'd come and paw at the door, waiting patiently until someone opened it. While he was capable of opening doors, he needed to use a rope attached to this one to open it, and they didn't have a rope on the outside.
Moving closer to the door, Claire peered outside, looking from side to side, but she didn't spot him at once. Their backyard was completely fenced in, so she wasn't immediately worried. Pulling the door open, she stepped out onto the back deck so she could get a better look around.
"What are you doing?" Maisie asked, startling Claire when she joined her on the deck.
"Wondering where Murphy disappeared to," Claire replied, still searching the yard. However, there really weren't many (or any) good hiding spots for the dog, and she couldn't see him anywhere. "I let him out earlier and…"
"Do you think he got out of the yard?" Maisie asked, her eyes widening as she swept her gaze around.
"How?" Claire asked, although it was a question she was wondering herself. "The gate's closed." She shook her head, dismissing Maisie's theory. "No, he must be here somewhere." Taking a couple of steps further into the yard, Claire started calling for him, "Murphy?"
Maisie joined in a moment later. "Murphy, DINNER TIME!"
When Claire looked over at her, the teen shrugged, "He always comes for food."
Still, Murphy didn't appear.
The small inkling of dread she'd had originally when she hadn't spotted him, started to grow. Where could he have gone? And how?
Her tone growing panicked, she started yelling louder, "MURPHY?!"
This time, there was a response. A short bark that had Claire and Maisie freezing in place.
"Where did that come from?" Claire asked, her gaze darting about as she spun in a circle, still unable to see the dog.
"Woof, woof!" There were a few more barks.
"Where is he?" This time, the comment came from Maisie, but Claire had already laid eyes on the dog.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."
"What?" Maisie asked, "Where is he?"
But Claire didn't answer, her gaze still focused upwards at Murphy, who was standing on the roof of their house, looking down at them.
"How did he get up there?" Maisie's shocked question caused Claire to finally look away from the dog.
"I don't–" Claire started, before letting out a groan. Dammit, Owen! "The ladder," she replied, pointing to the top of the ladder she could just see, over the corner of the roof. "I thought your dad put it away."
Maisie's eyes widened. "Murphy can climb ladders? Wow."
"No, not wow," Claire shook her head. She bit her lip and looked back up at the dog, who was still watching them, his tail wagging. "Murphy, you need to come down." She pointed to where she could see the ladder, before repeating, "Down."
She turned to walk over to the ladder, before she noticed that Maisie had her phone out, the camera pointed at the roof.
"What are you doing?"
"He's on the roof, mom," Maisie replied. "Wait 'til my friends see this! I'm putting it on TikTok."
"Ugh," Claire just groaned in reply, before she made her way over to the ladder. When she got there, she looked up at Murphy, who was now standing at the top of it looking down at her. "C'mon, Murphy, you need to come down."
Murphy just barked in return before backing up a couple of steps.
"No, you can't stay up there. DOWN," Claire repeated emphatically.
Murphy moved a step closer to the edge, before backing away again, and this time Claire noticed that he was starting to shake.
"But you climbed up there," she grumbled. "Surely if you can go up, you can go down." Turning to Maisie, she instructed, "Okay, I need you to hold the ladder."
"You're going to go up there?" Maisie asked, looking at her in surprise. "But you hate heights."
"How else are we going to get him down?" Claire said, resolutely grabbing hold of the ladder and climbing onto the first rung.
However, she only made it up four rungs before she also started to second-guess herself. Not only did she really not like heights, but Murphy wasn't particularly light. Even if she got up there, how was she going to get him down?
"Okay, you're right, I can't do this," she told Maisie as she returned to the ground.
"I could go up," Maisie suggested, looking up at Murphy. "I don't mind heights."
"I know you don't," Claire said. "But how are you going to get him down? I'm not sure even I could carry him down."
"He is heavy," Maisie nodded her agreement. "Hmm."
Claire knew what she needed to do. Just… Why did Murphy have to pull this the one time Owen wasn't there? This would be so much easier if he was around. Of course, if he was, Murphy probably never would've ended up there in the first place.
Sighing, Claire pulled out her phone and quickly looked up the non-emergency phone number for the firehouse, before hitting call.
x x x
Owen was stretched out on the bed in his hotel room watching baseball, enjoying the fact that for once, he could watch with no interruptions. No Maisie begging to change the channel; no Murphy staring at him, hoping that Owen would share his snacks. Just him and the tv.
He was in the process of thinking that he wouldn't mind if Claire was there, and then thinking that they really needed to plan another trip for just the two of them, when his phone buzzed from where it was left discarded on the nightstand. He ignored it at first, but when it buzzed a second time, he groaned, before leaning over and picking it up. Who would be messaging him now?
When he saw Franklin's name on his screen, he went to toss the phone aside, convinced that it wasn't anything important. However, his eyes caught on the word Murphy. Before he could read the whole message, a new text came through, this time one that simply said: Is he okay?
Bolting upright on the bed, Owen quickly unlocked his phone and pulled up the string of messages. Even if he hadn't seen "Murphy" already, there was only one "he" that Franklin could be asking him about.
There were three messages:
I just saw Maisie's videos.
How did Murphy get on the roof?
Is he okay?
Owen read them over a few times, not quite comprehending what he was reading. How did Murphy get on the roof of what? And why wouldn't Murphy be okay? And what videos? Owen was about to start typing an answer, when he realized that Franklin had sent the messages to him and Claire, and so he decided to see what she said first.
However, a couple of minutes later, she still hadn't responded, and he was starting to get antsy. Although, if something had happened with Murphy, surely Claire would phone him, right? He got up from the bed, starting to pace the small space of the hotel room as he debated. Of course, if whatever Franklin was referring to was minor, Claire probably wouldn't think it was worth telling him, or at least not phoning him ahead of their regular check-in later. Then again, whatever it was, it was bad enough that Franklin had sent a question wondering if Murphy was okay…
Glancing at the phone he was clutching tightly, Owen confirmed there was still no reply from Claire. Switching apps, he called Claire, holding the phone to his ear as he continued to pace back and forth. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Until finally, voicemail picked up.
His anxiety spiked higher. It was one thing for Claire to be ignoring Franklin, but she wouldn't ignore a call from him. He hung up and called again, his pacing growing more panicked.
When he got voicemail a second time, after hanging up, he switched tactics, calling Maisie instead. Maybe, hopefully, she'd have her phone on her for a change.
Just as he was expecting Maisie's phone to also go to voicemail, she answered.
"Hey, dad, what's up?" Maise asked, her voice sounding perfectly calm.
"What's going on?" he demanded. "What happened to Murphy? Is he okay? Why isn't your mom answering her phone?"
"Murphy's fine," Maisie said. "And mom's busy. She's saying goodbye to the firefighters."
"The firefighters?!" Owen exclaimed, sinking down heavily onto the side of the bed. "What happened?" he asked again. "Was there a fire? Are you okay? Is your mom?"
"Fire? No," Maisie replied, sounding slightly confused. However, before Owen could ask her another question, she kept talking. "I didn't know that Murphy could climb ladders. When did you teach him that? And why? It doesn't seem like that great a skill, since he doesn't seem to be able to climb down. I thought he was afraid at first, since he looked like he was shaking. But when the firefighters came, he started running all over the roof. Maybe he thought it was a game? Have you played a game like that with him? Or–"
"Whoa, Maisie," Owen interrupted her, feeling overwhelmed as he tried to piece everything together from her comments. "Back up there. Murphy was on the roof? Like… of the house?"
"What other roof would he be on?"
"I don't know, a car?" he replied.
"Then why would we need the firefighters?"
"I didn't know you needed firefighters, or what they were there for," Owen said, holding back a growl. He knew it wasn't Maisie's fault. But still, he was starting to feel exasperated. "So Murphy somehow got onto the roof–"
"He climbed the ladder," Maisie inserted.
"Right, by climbing a ladder," he mentally stored that fact away to think about later. "And then, what? Got stuck?"
"Yeah, he couldn't climb down. And you know mom doesn't like heights. So she couldn't climb up to him. And I'm not strong enough to carry him down," Maisie said.
Owen was nodding along as she spoke, even though she couldn't see him, the picture finally forming in his head. "So you called 911?" he clarified.
"Mom did. They sent a firetruck."
"And Murphy's back down now, and he's fine?" Owen repeated.
"Yep. Although Mom made him go inside. She said he's not allowed out here unsupervised anymore."
No shit, Owen thought.
"Okay," he said slowly. "Can I talk to your mom now?"
"Sure," Maisie agreed.
For a minute there was just white noise through the phone, as Maisie carried it to wherever Claire was.
"Owen?" Claire asked.
"Hey," he said, running a hand absently through his hair. "Sounds like you've had some drama there tonight."
"No kidding," she replied on a heavy sigh. There was a brief pause, and then she was almost yelling into the phone. "Ladders, Owen? He climbs ladders now? Were you ever going to tell me this? I know you like to teach him new things, but why ladders? And don't even get me started on the fact that you left one out! I thought you'd put it away. Didn't you finish the gutters last week? You realize just how tempting that could be to someone walking–"
"Slow down there," Owen interrupted her. "I didn't know Murphy could climb up ladders. Why didn't you stop him?"
"Stop him? STOP him?!" Claire was practically shrieking into the phone now, and Owen pulled it away from his ear as he winced. "How was I supposed to know I needed to watch him around ladders? He was out in the backyard alone! That's the point of the fence — so we don't have to watch him outside."
"Then how do you know he climbed the ladder?"
"Are you kidding me?" He could almost hear Claire roll her eyes. "How else do you think he got up on the roof? Unless he's suddenly sprouted invisible wings, the ladder is the only thing that makes sense."
"Right. I'm sorry, Claire," he told her, his voice soothing. "I really didn't know he could climb ladders. I don't know why he would even try."
There was a longer pause now, and Owen was about to try to say something else when Claire spoke up again, thankfully no longer yelling.
"I think I know why," she admitted. "He's been looking for you all day. He probably remembers you were up there the other day and thought he'd check there."
"Oh." Owen wasn't really sure how to feel about that.
Of course, he'd felt bad having to leave Murphy behind, but he had figured it would be fine. It wasn't like he was putting Murphy in a kennel, Murph was just staying with Claire and Maisie. But, to be honest, Owen hadn't thought about it too much. He'd been mostly looking forward to a couple of nights of freedom on just his own. He didn't get to travel much for work — that was more Claire's thing. And he hadn't realized until he was sorting out his trip, that he hadn't been away on his own in a long time. The idea of some "me" time had been incredibly appealing.
"Owen?" Claire's voice broke through his thoughts, her question coming out hesitantly. "It's not your fault, you know. I'm sorry if it came out that way. I'm not blaming you."
"Really?" he asked, his tone only half-joking. After all, she had been yelling at him moments earlier.
"I didn't expect to find him on the roof," she simply said. "I… he shocked me. And then when the firefighters came… he started running all over the roof and I–"
It took Owen a moment when she cut off to realize that she was crying.
"Whoa, Claire, come on, don't—don't do that, don't go there, " he said. "Maisie said he's fine. He's back in the house. And I'll be home tomorrow. You know that it's not your fault, right? You didn't do anything wrong."
"I just–" she started. "I know how much you love him, Owen."
"I do love him. And I love you and Maisie," Owen told her. "But like I said, it doesn't matter. And it's not your fault. He's fine. Murphy's… we both know that Murphy doesn't always think before he acts. It's no one's fault but his."
"Yeah," Claire said, sniffing a little, and Owen was happy to note that she sounded a bit calmer now. "I know you're right. He just startled me. I was expecting an uneventful evening."
"With Murphy?" Owen joked, and he felt pleased when Claire chuckled a bit in response. "Please, you should never expect that with Murphy."
"Right, right," she said. "Speaking of Murphy, I should probably get inside and get him his dinner. Who knows what he might be up to now."
"Call me later?" Owen asked.
"Of course."
Hanging up the phone, Owen clicked off the tv and flopped back on the bed, his thoughts whirling. So much for his relaxing and stress-free evening. Even knowing that Murphy was fine, he could still feel residual adrenaline running through his system. Letting out a deep sigh, he scrubbed at his face momentarily, trying to sort out what to do next, before sitting back up and reaching for his phone again, a plan forming.
x x x
Even though he tried to be quiet as he let himself into the house, Owen was surprised when Murphy didn't dart into the entrance area to greet him. Frowning slightly, he set his bags down by the front door and crept into the living room and over to Murphy's bed. He was surprised when he found the bed empty. Where was Murphy?
He did a quick walk around the first floor, but couldn't find the dog anywhere, and the door to the backyard remained closed (and locked), so there was no way that Murphy had escaped back out there.
His concern deepening, he wondered if Maisie had convinced Claire to let Murphy sleep in her room tonight (something that had happened on a few occasions, usually when Maisie wasn't feeling well). Heading up the stairs, he carefully pushed her bedroom door open and peeked in, not wanting to wake her up. However, while he could just make her out curled up under the covers in the dark of her bedroom, Murphy wasn't there.
Owen worked hard to tamp down the rising panic he was feeling. Had Claire lied earlier, and Murphy actually was injured and she hadn't wanted to worry him? Could Murphy be spending the night at the vet? Except, no, he shook his head, dismissing the thought, Claire wouldn't do that to him. Not about something that important.
Of course, that only left one room where Murphy could be. The one room in the house the dog wasn't actually allowed in.
Which just made his anxiety spike again. Because surely something had to be wrong for Claire to allow Murphy into their bedroom. After all, it was her rule that had kept him out.
After carefully closing Maisie's door, he quickly crossed over to the master bedroom, pushing the door open.
Almost immediately, Claire sat up in the bed, turning towards the door. "Who's there?" she demanded, and Owen could see her hand scrabbling against her bedside table, probably searching for her phone.
"Me, it's just me," he quickly reassured her, although his response ended up slightly muffled, as he was tackled by Murphy leaping off the bed at him. He caught the dog, barely, and almost immediately had to drop down to his knees, as Murphy was wiggling like crazy in his hold. The moment Murphy could, he was licking Owen's face, his tail whipping back and forth, as he continued to jump at him. "Whoa, Murph, calm down," Owen protested, although he was also chuckling at the greeting. "It's good to see you too, bud."
He was so busy petting Murphy and dodging his kisses that Owen barely noticed when Claire turned on her bedside light as she watched them. When Murphy finally settled down enough, flopping down in front of Owen, his belly splayed for rubs, Owen finally looked back at her.
"I thought your flight got in tomorrow afternoon," she said.
"I changed it," Owen replied with a quick shrug. "I just…" He looked down at Murphy. "I felt bad."
"Yeah," Claire let out a soft sigh as she climbed out of bed and squatted down beside him, her hand reaching out to scratch Murphy's head. "I knew he was attached to you, but…"
"I should've expected it," Owen said, his gaze still focused down on the dog. "I mean, reading his behaviour, that's my job. I should've known there would be a problem."
"Why?" she said. "It's never been a problem before. It's not like he hasn't stayed behind while you've gone to work before."
"Right, but never for this long," Owen said. "I…"
"He's fine," Claire reminded him, as she sat down on the ground beside him.
She raised her free hand to run through his hair a few times when he looked over at her, before lowering it to rest on the back of his neck, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head further before she could pull back, one of his own arms snaking around her to pull her closer as he kissed her deeply.
A wet nose against his cheek had him pulling back as he laughed, turning to Murphy who had got up off the floor, apparently not happy that the two had stopped petting him.
"Sorry, Murph," Owen apologized, wrapping his arms around the dog in a hug, briefly burying his face against his fur. When he pulled back, he remembered the earlier question he had, and he turned back to Claire. "How come he's in here?"
"What do you mean?" Claire asked innocently. But Owen knew she was putting on an act, not just because of her tone, but because of the way she wasn't looking at him, her gaze now pointedly focused on the dog.
"You're the one who said he's not allowed in here," he reminded her, the corners of his mouth twitching a little. It was not very often that he caught Claire breaking rules, even her own. "What changed tonight?"
"He was lonely," she said almost defensively, still not looking at him, her hand reaching out to run down Murphy's back.
"And…?"
"And what?" she finally turned to look at him.
"If he was just lonely, he'd probably be sleeping with Maisie. Why in here?"
There was a long pause as Claire looked back at Murphy, but Owen waited her out. He knew pushing her would only cause her to clam up. That even all these years later, there were still some topics, some emotions, that she struggled to talk about, but that she would, if given the time and space.
"When I saw him on the roof…" Claire started a couple of minutes later, her gaze still focused on Murphy. "It was like my heart stopped. He looked scared, but I couldn't help him. I couldn't climb the ladder."
When she shuddered at the thought, Owen pulled her closer to him, his hand running soothingly up and down her side, but he remained silent.
"I should've been able to get him down myself," she said in a whisper. "What if it had been Maisie? And I couldn't climb a ladder to get to her?"
"You aren't Wonder Woman," he said, and almost immediately Claire stiffened and tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold. "I don't mean that as a bad thing. You don't need to be Wonder Woman. Everyone has fears and phobias… Remember the mouse?"
Claire let out a watery laugh at that, and Owen looked down at her, surprised to see her eyes were wet, a single tear having slipped down her cheek.
"There's a reason we're doing this parenting thing as a team," he reminded her, reaching up to brush away the tear. "There're always going to be situations that we're not ready for or can't handle. But that's why we have each other. And it's also why 911 exists. You did the right thing calling–"
"I didn't call 911," Claire interrupted him. "I called the non-emergency number."
"Right," Owen barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes at her practicality. "Anyway, those guys? They're there for a reason. Still… none of this really answers why he's here in our bedroom."
"When they got here, and climbed up the ladder, Murphy started running all over the roof," Claire told him, her breath momentarily hitching. "I thought he was going to fall. That he'd get scared and jump or slip or… something. I just… And then he looked so sad tonight, when it was time for bed, his tail between his legs. He'd been right beside me all evening since they got him down. I decided to make an exception. Just this once. I figured we could both use the comfort." She reached out for Murphy, who stepped forward to give a quick swipe of his tongue down her face, before snuggling in closer to the two. "He's kind of like sleeping with a furry hot water bottle."
"Speaking of sleeping," Owen said, letting out a yawn as he glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. "Maybe we should all move onto the bed." He glanced down at Murphy, and then back over at Claire. "Unless now that I'm back he needs to go downstairs." He raised an eyebrow in question, honestly not sure what Claire was going to say.
She looked between him and Murphy a few times, before letting out a sigh as she stood up. "I already promised him he could spend tonight in here. C'mon, Murphy."
Owen scrambled to his own feet, watching as Claire climbed back into the bed, the dog jumping up beside her. Smiling at the sight, he turned away to get changed and ready for bed.
It didn't take long, but it wasn't until he climbed into bed that he realized the mistake of letting Murphy stay. Claire was already curled up on her side facing towards him, as she often slept. The difference, however, was that Murphy had settled in up against her, and she had her arm draped over him, holding him close. Claire's eyes were already shut, although Owen didn't quite think she was asleep, but Murphy was busy watching him.
"Murph, you're in my spot," he told the dog.
Murphy didn't move.
"Murphy," Owen groaned, reaching for him, but Murphy just scooted closer to Claire, closing his eyes. "Wow, from happy I was back to this. Thanks, Murph. Glad I rushed home for this treatment." Owen flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the snicker he could hear Claire trying to suppress.
After a moment, he felt the bed shift and he turned his head. Claire and Murphy had moved a bit closer to him, Claire reaching across the dog so she could rest her hand on his arm. He turned onto his side to face them, his eyes meeting hers.
"I'm glad you're home," she said. He reached up to thread his fingers through hers, dropping a kiss to the back of her hand.
"Me too."
x x x
Claire was relaxing in the hammock with a book when a commotion from the side of the house caught her attention. Looking up, she saw Owen circling into the backyard carrying a ladder, Murphy following close on his heels.
Murphy had been sticking close to Owen since he'd returned, but Claire knew that Owen had already started to work with him on his separation anxiety, in hopes of not having a repeat event in the future.
Zia had actually told Claire that she thought she was sort of lucky, that all Murphy had done was climb the ladder to the roof looking for Owen. "He could've torn the house apart. Ripped up the couch. Or jumped the fence and ran away…"
Claire knew Zia had been trying to make her feel better, but it hadn't worked. Instead, she was also now wondering if Murphy could jump their fence. She hadn't asked Owen yet, mostly because she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer (nor did she want to give him training ideas).
She watched as Owen propped the ladder up against the side of the house, clearly intent on finally finishing his job on the gutters that had led to the roof incident in the first place.
"I kind of thought you'd just decided not to finish that," Claire called out from across the yard, and she watched as Owen's gaze snapped around to her, startled. He apparently hadn't realized she was out there. He smiled, putting down the work gloves he was carrying on the ladder, before crossing the yard towards her.
"Hey," he greeted her, stooping down to give her a kiss. "I'd kind of forgotten about it. But the rain storm the other day reminded me. There's definitely something clogging them. Figured I should get it done before it heats up more and I really won't want to."
The two of them glanced up at the sky in unison. It was a nice sunny day, and the temperature was perfect for being outside, without sweltering. The benefits of it still being spring.
"Whatcha reading?" he asked, glancing down at the book she was holding. "Anything interesting?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at that, and Claire smacked him with the book, her cheeks reddening.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased.
"Oh, I think I do," he replied, leaning down again in an attempt to give her another kiss.
However, a glimpse of movement from behind him caught Claire's attention and before he could kiss her, she was bolting upright in the hammock. "Murphy! NOOOO!"
"What?" Owen asked, as he stood up and spun around. His eyes widened in shock as they landed on Murphy, already a third of the way up the ladder. "MURPHY!"
I love writing Murphy. He's so much fun and brings some extra craziness to their lives. Hope you enjoy his adventures as much as I do.
I've got another snapshot coming, and I've been posting a multi-chapter fic called All That You Can't Leave Behind, if you haven't seen it yet — 4 of 8 chapters have been posted so far.
Ahh — I just remembered what I'd forgot to add earlier. This snapshot is based off a TikTok video/instagram reel (I'm not on tiktok, but they all seem to end up in Instagram). You can find out more if you search "dog climbs ladder snopes."