No Dixie.
A chill raced down my spine as I called out to her, searching the whole house. She wasn’t there. Panicking, I shoved my feet into some sneakers and ran down to the beach. Becoming frantic, I searched as my heart pounded and tears spilled down my cheeks. I called her name over the sound of the crashing waves, scanning the water in fear of seeing her lifeless, little form.
Darkness was falling, and I didn’t know what to do next. She never went out without me. She had never been alone. More tears gathered in my eyes as I stood, wringing my hands, lost and scared on the sand.
I couldn’t lose her. Where could she be? I looked up at the house on the bluff, hesitating. Maybe she had gone to find Elliott. After our last conversation I knew Zachary wouldn’t be very welcoming, but this was about Dixie—not him. I turned and started to run toward the stairs. Twice I slipped going up, landing painfully hard on my hands and knees, the tears making it difficult to see where I was going. When I reached the top, I looked around and called, but no little ball of fluff appeared. I rushed to the house, climbing the steps and banged on the door. Maybe Zachary had found her and taken her inside, knowing I would come and get her. There was no answer, so I banged again, swiping under my eyes as the tears flowed, my chest threatening to burst with the ache inside.
She couldn’t be lost. She couldn’t.
Just as I raised my hand up again, the door was flung open and Zachary filled the frame, somewhat hidden behind the door. The encroaching darkness surrounding me, and his dim hallway made it difficult to see, but his harsh voice made it clear he wasn’t happy to see me.
“What?”
“Dixie… Have you seen her?” I gasped.
“No. Why would I?”
“She isn’t here?”
His voice became impatient, his accent even stronger than earlier. I could see one of his hands curled into a fist at his side; I knew he wasn’t pleased to be having this conversation with me. “Why would she be here?”
“I fell asleep…the screen opened up…I think she went outside…I can’t find her…” I babbled, my voice quivering.
“She isn’t here.”
I braced myself on the doorframe, my legs shaking. “I don’t know what to do.”
He shrugged. “Not much you can do. It’s almost dark.”
“I have to find her! I can’t leave her out all night!”
“How long has she been gone?”
“I don’t know. I was asleep.”
He stepped back, his hand on the door, beginning to push it shut.
“I can’t help you.”
“Please, Zachary; she’s so little. She must be lost…and so scared!”
His voice was angry when he spoke. “You should have taken better care of her, if you loved her so much.”
I gasped at his hurtful words.
“I had a migraine and she was beside me when I lay down—” I protested. I looked around wildly. “Oh God, what if she wandered off into the woods?”
His voice was cold. “There’s nothing much you can do at this point. You’ll have to look in the morning. The only thing you can do is pray a coyote doesn’t get her first.”
Then the door slammed shut.5MeganI stumbled back from the door, my hand covering my mouth.
That man wasn’t only rude or unfriendly. He was cruel.
I made it to the top step before my legs gave out on me and I fell down, wrapping my arms around my legs as I sobbed.
My little Dixie.
I had gotten her from a shelter when she was about nine months old. She’d been found in an alley—dirty, scared, and so thin. We’d made an instant connection when Dixie’s paw had reached through her kennel, stopping me as I walked down the aisle. I bent down to say hello, and I was in love. The staff at the shelter had named her Dixie since she loved to run around with one of the small cups clasped in her mouth, using it like a toy. It suited her, so I kept the name and she’d been with me ever since—the one real constant in my life.
I felt a few raindrops start and my tears became harder, my sobs wrenching out of my chest in loud gasps. From behind me, I could hear a low whimper, which caused me to lift my head.
Elliott. He heard me crying and was answering me in his own way.
Showing that, unlike his cold-hearted master, he did care.
I had to find Dixie.
With a new determination, I jumped up, wiped the tears away from my face, and ran down the steps. I raced as fast as I could across the sand, stumbling over my own feet in my haste, the space between the two houses seemingly vast all of a sudden. Once my steps faltered as his words “you’d better pray a coyote doesn’t find her first” flashed through my head. I lurched forward as nausea washed over me, and I dry heaved onto the sand at the thought of Dixie being hurt because of my carelessness. When I reached the empty house, my hope of finding Dixie waiting for me on the deck, was crushed, so I grabbed two things: my jacket and the flashlight. I had no choice; I had to try and find her. I had seen a path the other day in the woods behind the house—I would follow it as far as I could. I prayed I would find Dixie before I had to turn around.