Page 10 of My Inherited House Might be Haunted

I propped the phone up on one of the many supply shelves I had in the back, then bent to scoop up Lucy Fur into one arm. I didn’t want her taking off. Only then did I cautiously open the back door, as I had no idea what the cat sensed or heard out here.

Huh, I didn’t see anything.

A shuffle sound came from my right.

I quickly looked in that direction and found a…dog? It was hard to tell under all of the mud and grime, but it looked like a dog.

Lucy Fur wiggled out of my arms and jumped to the ground.

“Shit. No, Lucy, get back here!”

She ignored me, going right up to the dog and touching noses with it.

Uhm. Were these two friends or something? My shop wasn’t that far from the house, so it was possible.

The dog gave a little tail wag, so he was friendly with cats, at least.

Lucy Fur turned and led the dog back to me. I kid you not, she had him right on her tail like there was a leash attached. She slipped past my legs and into the shop like she’d done her job, and this was all me now.

I looked down at the dog, and honestly, this was the biggest fucking dog I’d seen in real life. He was waist tall on me, easily, and had to be a hundred pounds. He also looked really matted, anxious, and not sure if he was welcome here.

“Oh, you poor guy.” I extended a hand carefully to him. “Hi. Are you a good dog?”

I got another little tail wag and he sniffed my hand before pushing his nose into my palm.

“Oh, you are. Will you come in? I’ve got beef jerky and water. That sound good to you?”

“Bro, what is going on over there?”

I spoke to the phone but I focused on getting the dog inside. “Lucy apparently has a canine friend. She guided him right inside the shop.”

“Get out.”

“Is there a dog distribution system?”

“Apparently so if your cat’s in charge. Uh, well, congrats on your new dog?”

“You’re funny.” I picked up the phone so I could show him. “But see his condition?”

“Yikes. Poor thing has been on the streets for a while. Tell you what, I’ll hang up. You’ve got your hands full. But call me later tonight. I’ll think of a good name for the dog.”

“Thanks, bro. Chat at you later.” I hung up absently, pocketing the phone, because he was right about me having my hands full. I encouraged the dog to come with me into my very small kitchenette/break room. I filled a bowl of water and set it down, and the dog immediately drained it. Shit, poor thing was likely dehydrated.

The jerky was half empty, so I fed the dog some of it because he was starving. Not too much, though. I didn’t want him getting sick. Then I filled the bowl again.

Okay, let’s put things into priorities. This dog needed a vet too. Probably more than Lucy did.

I called the vet, explained the situation, and the woman on the other end was very sympathetic. She moved the schedule around and said to bring them both in—they’d make it work—which I really appreciated.

Hanging up, though, I realized I couldn’t take him in this condition. He’d destroy my car, he was so filthy. And him hanging out in the shop like this wouldn’t do any good either. Uhhh…shit, what to do.

Wait. Didn’t Calix live above his shop?

I quickly called him.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Calix, you’re not going to believe this. My cat apparently has a dog friend. She just had me open the back door to let him in.”

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