SISSY

The house felt so quiet and so empty. Funny, Luke thought, how you can miss a little dog so much. Sissy never talked with him, of course. The conversation had all been one-way, as Luke did all the talking. Sissy would wag her tail sometimes as if to agree with him, and occasionally she would cock her head as if puzzled by what he'd said. But she was a good companion, all the same.

Just that morning, Luke had answered a knock on the door. Marty, one of the neighbor's boys, was there. The boy just stood there, his eyes downcast and tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What is it, Marty?" Luke asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Hawkins, I just wanted to tell you that Sissy got run over by a car."

Luke couldn't believe it. "But...that can't be. She's in the fence in the back yard. She..."

"My brother let her out," Marty blurted. "We were playing, and he threw a ball that landed in your back yard. He went in to get it, but forgot to close the gate when he came out. He...he's afraid to come tell you, so I came over."

Luke was stunned and grief-stricken, but he was not angry at the boys. He had given them permission to retrieve balls in his yard, on condition that they closed the gate after leaving. The boy had simply forgotten.

And Luke knew that the boys were saddened and that they regretted their tragic mistake, for they loved Sissy, too. They would often reach over the fence and pet the friendly little dog.

Luke buried Sissy in the back yard. Tears stung his eyes as he placed the little dog's body in a small box, and then laid her to rest under the tree that had been her favorite spot.

He went inside, turned on the TV, and sat down to watch the noon news. But after about ten minutes, he realized that he had no idea of what had been on the screen or what the newscaster had said. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

He went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He took one bite, then threw the sandwich in the garbage. Even the pungent taste of horseradish sauce in the sandwich seemed bland to him. He simply could not get his mind off his beloved little pal. After all, he thought, she had been with him for nine years.

Luke roamed aimlessly through the empty house. He saw her water dish on the floor near the sink, still half filled with water. Her red rubber ball lay on a chair where she had left it. A box of doggy treats sat on the kitchen counter, still unopened. Sissy would never taste them. He saw tiny teeth marks on the kitchen table leg, made by Sissy when she was a puppy. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered gently scolding Sissy when she had chewed on the leg.

He remembered how he and Sissy had consoled each other when Alice passed on--almost seven years ago. Luke mourned the loss of his wife for a long time. He remembered how Sissy had seemed dazed and lost for a while after Alice's passing. But the little dog had sensed his grief, too, and tried to comfort him.

Luke mourned Alice, but it consoled him to know that he would meet his beloved wife again in Heaven. But Sissy's loss grieved him because he felt that her loss was forever, that he'd never see her again. He remembered that his pastor had once said that we'd meet those we love in Heaven. Luke wondered if that also included beloved Pets like Sissy.

Now that Sissy was gone, Luke had no one. There was a son who had recently retired from the navy and was now living down in Florida, and his daughter had long ago moved out to California. He rarely saw either of them or his grandchildren.

He went out into the backyard and puttered around in his garden, only half aware of what he was doing.

He went back in the house and fixed a light supper. He ate, and afterward forced himself to watch TV for a while. It was getting late, and he found himself listening for Sissy's scratch on the back door, wanting to come in for her supper. But he would hear her scratch on the door no more.

And when he went out, Sissy would never again greet him at the door when he returned--jumping, barking, and tail wagging. She would never again bring him her ball to play fetch. She would no longer bark to let him know someone was at the door. She would no longer follow him around in the yard whenever he did yard work, or lie contentedly near him when he watched TV.

It was midnight before he finally went to bed.

He went into the bedroom, and on the floor beside his bed he saw her bed--a cardboard box with old sheets in the bottom. God, how he missed that little dog. He knew that it would be a long time before he could bring himself to throw out any of her things. That was how it had been when he lost Alice. Actually, he still had some of Alice's things that he would keep always.

He lay in bed for a long time, thinking about his life and what he would do now. He decided that he would not let himself wallow in grief and misery for the rest of his life. Sure, he would cherish the memory of his little pal and the joy and love that they had shared. But he knew that he must get involved in other things.

Sam Fillmore was always after him to go fishing. Jim Appleton wanted him to play checkers. The pastor was always asking for volunteers for church activities. There were lots of things to do.

Luke finally drifted off to sleep.

That night he dreamed of Sissy. She was high above, looking down at him. "Don't worry for me," she said, "I'm here with Alice, and we're waiting for you."

He awoke with a start. It had seemed so real that he was not entirely sure if he had been dreaming. He had awakened from such vivid dreams before, but never had any of his dreams seemed as vivid as this one. For the next few moments he lay there puzzled by his dream. Finally, he decided that it hadn't been a dream after all.

Feeling comforted and relaxed, he went back to sleep. For in his mind, he was sure that when he entered Heaven's Gate to be with Alice, Sissy would also be there to greet him--jumping, barking, and wagging her tail.

THE END