The White Dog by Littlewing1957
Ennis was on his way home from the grocers with a bag of food balanced on one hip. The summer evening was dry and warm, just the way Ennis liked it. He decided to walk to and from the store in order to enjoy the weather and get in some exercise. His burden was rather light, as Ennis didn’t need much in the way of food. He purchased a few cans of tuna, a box of crackers, milk, coffee, sugar and a flat of chicken hind quarters. The meager provisions would last two weeks.
It was dark, and Ennis had to be careful not to trip over his own two feet. He walked at a steady pace, passing nothing and no one. Not even a car passed down the dimly lit road. Ennis was alone both on the street and in his life. Jack Twist was gone, his daughters both married and living in Cody. Alma had her own family now, and his siblings never came around. It was enough to make any person depressed, but Ennis vowed to keep his courage up. He held his head high and continued the short trek home.
Along about halfway to his trailer, Ennis noticed a large white dog standing at the corner of the thrift store. Ennis had never seen such a beautiful animal. No collar, which means the animal was most likely a stray. But what a well kept stray! The dog looked well nourished and its coat was shiny and neat. Ennis whistled at the pooch and it walked over. He rubbed its head with his free hand, and smiled as the animal responded by jumping on his thigh. Ennis would have liked to spend some time playing with the dog, but he needed to get home. He would have liked to claim the pooch as a pet, but he couldn’t afford to feed him. Ennis sighed and turned from the dog to continue the walk home.
A few blocks down Ennis almost forgot about the white dog until he noticed a wet sensation on his free hand. He looked down and saw the dog looking up at him with such affection in its eyes that Ennis didn’t have the heart to shoo it away.
“Okay, boy!” Ennis began. “You can come with me a far as the trailer park, but after that you have to scram! I don’t have the money to feed no dogs!” Ennis couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the pooch shake its head!
The trailer park was only a half block away, and the white dog was still at Ennis’ side. He walked up to his door and the dog sat and watched as Ennis fished his key out of a pocket.
“Well, good to know you, Friend!” Ennis stammered as he looked at the animal. “Thanks for walking me home, but this is where we part company!” Again, for just a brief second, Ennis could have sworn that the dog shook its head. He unlocked his door and stepped in. After his groceries were put away, Ennis grabbed a beer and sat in front of the TV. He thought about the dog that walked him home, and hoped it would be alright. Ennis was partial to dogs and almost thought that if he looked out the window and the dog was still around, he might invite it in, just for the night. But when Ennis looked out his window there was no white dog in sight.
Ennis turned in early that night, as sleep was not only recuperative, but it was an escape. He was not sad or lonely when he slept, and just maybe, if he was lucky, he would see Jack Twist in a dream. That night, Ennis was lucky. Ennis knew he was dreaming, but Jack’s presence was so real! Jack entered his trailer as though he had a key and moved to sit on the edge of Ennis’ bed. Jack never spoke a word through his mouth, but seemed to communicate with Ennis with his thoughts. Ennis saw Jack in the form of a white dog, walking with him, in order to protect him from a man who Jack thought suspicious. Ennis could have sworn he was alone on the walk home, but Jack was able to see things that Ennis was unaware of. When the man saw the white dog walking alongside Ennis, he turned and headed in the opposite direction.
“Don’t be afraid, Ennis!” Jack mouthed. “I’ll always watch over you.” And with that, Jack was gone. Ennis wasn’t afraid. He let the tears fall and thanked God for his guardian angel.
“Thank you, Jack! I love you.”
And with that said, Ennis was able to fall into a satisfied slumber.
Dedicated to my grandma, Mary Dumas (1912-1984)