Lying across the car seat, Tara’s fingers running over and around my ears, I could tell this was a different car ride. We certainly weren’t going to one of those places where I had to stand still to be felt over and trot around in circles. They hadn’t given me the full treatment, for one thing. Just the once-over with a brush. The air hanging over us felt… strange, too. It held some faint charge of excitement, yet at the same time hung heavy with tinges of gloom. Tension and ease, coming and going in waves. I wasn’t sure what to feel.
The gentle motion of the car slowed to a halt and I heard the crunch of gravel beneath us.
“Here we are, Muffy.”
Dad’s voice, deep and booming. I heard my name, and my tail stirred reflexively at the familiar sound. The car door opened and Jed and Tara tumbled out, Tara still clutching me in her slim brown arms. Her landing was rather jarring, but it was no cause for concern. I knew she’d never hurt me.
We were standing before a small white house. Tara had set me down, now, and both she and Jed were running wildly for the opening door.
“Grandma, Grandma!”
Before I followed them, I gave the grass and the air a general cast-around with my nose. The usual smells – plants, birds, squirrels, earth. Humans and dogs. Nothing special, aside from the fact that I’d never been here before.
The click-scuff of dog paws on concrete was suddenly audible behind me, and I lifted my head, ears flexing. A large yellow Labrador was strolling slowly past, walking leashless beside his human. Feeling in a good mood about being out in the open air, I barked a greeting to him, waving my tail.
His face was typical of his breed – broad and blocky with a wide floppy mouth that hung open in a pant, which could normally be construed as friendly. Certainly his thick tail was waving slightly as he turned to face me. But his large brown eyes held nothing but cold contempt. The look he gave me said two things. One, you are nothing, and two, you are not welcome here.
( there goes the neighbourhood )
