The cool air was welcoming, and it pushed the branches of the trees so lovely notes played in the colorful leaves brushing against each other. The sunset was quiet and unadorned though some pink glowed on the clouds as the sun said goodnight. A patch of silver shone where the light from the window of the home fell onto the grass. The woods were in shadows.
A yellow labrador came out of the home and the door was closed behind him. He sniffed his way into the woods and followed a trail laced with his scent. When he stopped, he began digging in the ground, using his front paws and even his nose to move the earth. He was excited, and his tail wagged from time to time as he dug. At last, he could pull the buried treasure out and he laid it under the moonlight. It was a small raccoon he had managed to catch and kill, and once dead, he had buried it in the woods. The dog grasped the dead animal in his jaws and walked deeper into the woods.
There was no one around, but if people had been nearby they would have heard the dog begin to whine as he walked. The dog slowed his walk and his whine turned to a whimper. At last, the dog saw what he was walking to. It was big, taller than his masters. While his masters had faces he could lick and arms they would wrap around him, this had no body. It was a shadow darker than the unlit, it contained an absence of everything the dog knew. But it had called to him, and he had been unable to disobey. The dog’s whimper turned into something between a low growl and a quiet cry, a sound the dog had never made before.
Then, wincing at the pain that shot through his head, the dog silently went forward to it, and dropped the dead raccoon on the ground. The pain eased off and the dog stepped back. With an unearthly scream, it covered the dead animal.
The dog felt untethered and ran away, his legs pumping as fast as they could, his heart ready to burst. He never slowed until he got to his home, where he jumped on the door and whined until his masters let him back inside. He laid under one of his master’s legs, but occasionally paced, looking out of the window into the blackness beyond.
Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul
A Little Bit of Everything, With Love 