Life Happens

It took Jenn two minutes to walk through the front door. She was so absorbed in the dread of entering a home without Michael that she had to force her legs to propel her across the doorway.

It was quiet. No trace of the worry and hurry that accompanied the emergency crew's race through the house yesterday, pushing and pulling a stretcher carrying her husband from their home to the ER.

She set her keys on the small table in the hallway, next to Michael's keys and ever-present Cowboy's cap. She lifted the cap and set it on her head as she turned to close the door before Mitzi could...

"MITZI! Mitzi? C'mere baby; I'm sorry I was gone for..", she choked out, then stopped. How in the world do you tell your husband's dog that he isn't coming home ever again? She must know something is wrong, but why would she hide instead of meeting her at the door?

"Mitzi! Mitzi! Baby, come here." Jenn kept crooning Mitzi's name as she circled through the first floor, looking in all of the usual hiding places: behind Michael's chair, under the kitchen table, by the floor vent in the laundry room, in the bathtub. No Mitzi.

Still calling, she went up the stairs to the loft. There was no place left to hide, but a quick glance didn't reveal the small rescue dog that was Michael's constant companion. He doted on her, well; they both did, but it was Michael that took her to the vet appointment last month when they first got the rotund little dog, and Michael that came back with the news that it was too late for spaying. Mitzi was going to be a mom and they would be doggy-grandparents for, the vet advised, two or three puppies.

He had fretted over the preparation for the puppies, watching YouTube videos, commandeering their mauve bath sheets after deciding they were the softest base of the birthing box he was making. Jenn thought he would be the best at puppy midwifery.

Now. Now it would be Gramma Jenn acting as midwife when the time came. Dropping to her knees with a groan, Jenn lifted the duvet cover and found just dust bunnies. Oh Michael. They were going to clean the house this weekend right after the Cowboy's game. Usually Michael did the low stuff since her knees never did come back from that last fall.

Jenn moved to the closet to get the dust mop, sighing again at the sight of Michael's good gray wool sweater on the floor and keeping the door ajar. His clothes. She would need to take clothes back to town, maybe the wool sweater and the cap? Michael would like that...

Jenn swung the door open and discovered several things all at once:

The puppy birthing box had been dragged into Michael's closet. Mitzi wasn't lost and she was no longer the round pup they had rescued. She'd pulled Michael's sweater off the shelf to make a cozy first home for her puppies.

There were more than three puppies, there were seven. Six soft black-and-brown boys, and one spotted little girl.

Mitzi lifted her head and whined, thumping her tail as Jenn crooned softly. "Oh, baby, he would be so proud of you! And doing this alone! Such a strong, good girl. You'll be alright, honey. Everything's going to be just fine. I'm here. I'm right here."

In the quiet of that empty home, Jenn heard her own words echo within the confine of that closet. They came so easily.

"You'll be alright, honey. Everything's going to be just fine." Of course they came easily, they were top of mind to her since Michael said them to her, clasping her cold hand in his own, as they rode in the back of the ambulance.

This story was written in response to Mackenzie's unofficial challenge, and using the photo that had been assigned to me.

Thank you for the prompt!

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Your comments very welcome!