“HEY!”
I yelled it before I even knew what I was seeing.
Because what I saw was… a dog.
Not a stranger.
Not a ghost. Not some horror-movie nightmare.
A small, scruffy dog. Tan and white.
Dirty fur, ribs a little visible, paws on the rug, head tilted toward the crib.
He jumped when I shouted, skidding back, ears flattened, tail tucked.
Then he looked at the crib.
At my son.
And he scooted closer to the crib again, nose twitching, like he was checking the baby was okay.
“Momma,” Edduin babbled, standing up and grabbing the rail. “Dah!”
Continue reading…
