Last Things

I was sitting on the couch of two people I didn't
really know. I was there because my friend who
had been living there didn't feel entirely safe going
back by herself to get the last of her things. The
couple had an older pug who struggled to breath
as it moved slowly across the floor. She paused
at my feet and tried valiantly to jump on the couch.
I helped her up and petted her. There was a large
lump near her hind legs. I would be told later on
she had a tumor. I could hear my friend gathering
the last of her things from her former room when
I noticed a burnt spoon with white crusted in the
concave cavity. There was a rubber strap nearby.
A dazed woman emerged, disheveled blonde
strands lingered about her face. An athletic man
emerged, shirtless, following behind her. Polite
greetings were exchanged, an offer of something
to drink. My friend emerged with a few bags
bundled around her. I walked over and grabbed
a few. The older woman asked if we needed
help. We looked at each other and politely said
no. I looked down, my black pants were covered
in freshly shed fur. The pug was standing where
I had been sitting. Setting the bags down, I went
and scratched her head, for good luck. We all
need it as often as we can get it.