Witness Unleashed

By Louie Flann

Animal communications researcher Maureen adopts a lost German Shepherd while visiting her dad in Chicago. Their professional and personal relationship grows during training in Miami until Bigdog finally “tells” Maureen that he has witnessed a murder. She goes to the Chicago police with Bigdog’s story, but to them, it’s just another kooky lead.

Meanwhile, Maureen volunteers Bigdog to perform surveillance work with the Miami Police, opening up new ways to prevent crime. And, on a day off from police work, he is struck motionless at the sight of the killer right there, on the sidewalk, in front of him.

During the Chicago murder trial, there are disagreements between the lawyers, the judge, our dog owner, the testimony of the witnesses, and the media. Could Bigdog give testimony? Would it be legal? Would this testimony be believed by the jury? Would you believe it?

Throughout the story, our heroine has suspenseful and lightly romantic encounters, all rated G.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Louie Flann
• Release date: Jan 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465921741

Louie Flann

My life is made up of small vignettes where now I only remember the funny, the interesting stuff, and have pretty much forgotten the standing in wet shoes in the snow, the job interviews that I blew, the car not starting and the entire computer network crashing after I just touch, ever so lightly, the WRONG KEY. My formative years were spent on my knees in the corridors of some of the most prestigious schools in suburban Chicago. The nuns tried to break my spirit on a daily basis but I persevered. High school was when I started working on cars, which I still do. Modern chemistry has allowed me to purge my fingernails of the grease from my first Fiat—finally. I studied engineering in college, then I left for the Marine Corp Reserves. I worked on making screws and ladders. When things were still made in America, I made 'em. And, the government gave me two patents for it. I also owned and operated a woodshop and a gift shop sequentially. I stood in front of high school students for years. Unfortunately, I believe, I have profited much more from it than they. In the name of economy, I bought cars that needed work. The terminally ill were saved from the salvage yard just before their last breath. I helped them recapture their youth and usefulness. Some day, I will own a car of this century. Places I've lived: state with most governors in prison (Illinois), state closest to the Arctic Circle (Minnesota), and now paradise (Florida). For the unknowing, Naples FL is paradise. Several of my friends who have died and gone to heaven have said: "Hey, this ain't as good as Naples. I wanna go back." If you forget the balmy temp, there are still the lovely palm trees and flowers that scent and cover every inch of this leisure land. I couldn't have found a nicer place to settle. I'm having a fun filled life with a wonderful wife (my neighbor's) (just kidding) and grown son and daughter-in-law. My son and I still have a good relationship. Just the other day we traded noogies. I am editing a new mystery about a dog, and a volume of short stories and things. My story, Next Time We Steal The Carillon, will be coming out in paperback around the holidays. Pass me my Piňa Colada please. Louie Flann

Book preview

Chapter 1

Bigdog lost in Chicago, June 20, 1998

Poor Bigdog, he was in trouble now.

He was riding alone in the back of the pick-up—his owner Bill’s pick-up. Bill was with his friend Bobby. He loved to see Bobby because that meant that they were going fishing.

It was three in the afternoon on Saturday. Bigdog was in the back of the pick-up. His name wasn’t Bigdog then, it was Sparky. He had always been well cared for since he was a pup by John. John died in a car accident last year. Sparky didn’t know why John never returned home, but he slowly adapted to Bill’s house and his routine.

Sparky’s new owner, Bill, was John’s younger brother. Bill always liked Sparky but he wasn’t in love with the dog like John was.

Sparky loved riding in the pick-up. He would sit in the truck bed and enjoy the wind blowing his hair and the wonderful feeling of freedom. He would actually hurt his tail by banging it against the side of the truck bed. He couldn’t stop his tail, he was that happy.

So there he was. Sitting in the back of the truck parked under a tree in the parking lot of Belmont Harbor, on Chicago’s magnificent lakefront on a magnificent summer day. This wasn’t California. Every beautiful day here was a day that the entire populace would celebrate. No one would be indoors on a beautiful summer day like this. They were too rare.

Bill said before leaving,Now stay. We’ll be back soon, so stay.

Bill and Bobby left Sparky in the truck while they went to pick up bait for tomorrow’s fishing trip to Twin Lakes, Wisconsin. It was a little town across the Wisconsin border where they could rent a boat and motor and the three of them could spend a fine day on the lake fishing. They usually would catch only a few perch, but with the sun and the beer, it was always a lot of fun. Sparky would jump in the lake at least once. Getting him out was a big project, especially late in the day after they had several beers.

He was sitting in the back of the pick-up truck, tongue hanging out, looking like he was smiling. He enjoyed watching people. They would see him and say,Look at the nice dog. Isn’t he cute? Although he was big, he didn’t look threatening. He was used to this, spending time in the truck while waiting for Bill to finish his shopping or other chores. He would patiently sit and wait for Bill to return.

A Half an hour had passed when Sparky saw a dog coming down the walkway, in front of the parked cars. He perked up. The dog trotted toward the truck, stopping at every tree to sniff a few times. And then continued. It was a large dog, a German Shepherd, just like Sparky.

Sparky let out one loud bark. The other dog, startled, jumped back away from the tree that it was smelling, its paws clicked on the sidewalk. The dog looked at Sparky but did not bark. The dog just looked at him. Sparky barked several times. The dog still looked at him, not moving. Sparky stood up. He walked to the right side of the truck and put his front paws on the top of the truck bed.

He still had his tongue hanging out. The other dog put its head down and moved closer to the truck, sniffing the ground while walking. Sparky leaned over the edge of the truck bed, his head between his spread front paws. He looked at the dog approaching the truck.

The dog stopped at the front fender of the truck, sniffed it and looked up at Sparky. He looked down at the dog and gave out a little moan or whine. The other dog sniffed the front wheel, looked up at Sparky, turned and continued walking, in front of the truck where Sparky couldn’t see. Sparky ran to the left side of the truck bed, his nails tapping on the painted steel, hoping to see the dog reappear on the other side. The other dog turned and looking at Sparky walked away,

He jumped up, putting his front paws on the roof of the cab. He barked. He couldn’t see the dog anymore. He barked again, pacing quickly in the front of the truck bed. He couldn’t see the dog. He barked loudly and jumped over the side of the truck bed and ran toward the dog. He left the truck. The dog stopped and faced Sparky coming down the walk. Sparky stopped. Slowly he walked toward the dog.

The other dog stood still. Sparky sniffed the air around the dog. He walked slowing moving his head from left to right sniffing the air, lifting his head slightly with each sniff, evaluating the situation. The other dog stood still. Sparky, still sniffing, slowly walked around to the rear of the dog. He sniffed its tail and the dog was startled, jumped and let out a yelp.

Sparky sniffed some more, moving his nose between the other dog’s legs. This time the other dog didn’t move. She let him explore for a moment, then, playfully ran onto the grass, turning to see if Sparky was following. He was. How could he not? He ran along side of her and they exchanged small barks, jumping while running. Neither dog paid attention to where they were heading. They chased each other nipping and quietly barking, trotting into a clump of bushes near the lake’s edge.

They disappeared into the bushes—for 20 minutes.

Only minutes after Sparky left the truck, Bill and Bobby returned with a carton of worms for tomorrow’s trip.

Bill hopped in the driver’s seat. Bobby slammed the passenger door closed, and Bill looked back and slowly eased the truck out of the shady parking space.

It was over an hour before they missed Sparky. By that time, Sparky had finished his romantic liaison, discovered the truck was missing, and left the harbor area in search of something to eat.

Chapter 2

Bigdog is found

Maureen and her dad were close. So every summer she would fly to Chicago to visit him. He raised her by himself after her mother left them when she was five. She was in Chicago this past week enjoying her time off reading or bicycling through the Lincoln Park neighborhood to the lake or, just sitting around. She enjoyed having time away from work even though she loved her job and her co-workers. A week away from home was long enough. Now she longed to get back to her apartment with her plants and spices growing in the kitchen window box and the light streaming in in the afternoon.

She missed Tom and Gerry most of all. They added fun to her life with their scheming and their light hearted view of life. They were her co-workers but more importantly, they were her lunch partners. Everyone called them themice men because their names were the same as those two cartoon characters. Those two were always together, either at work or after hours.

The three of them would have lunch together several times a week. When they brought their lunches they would eat together in one of their offices or go into the big cage and have a picnic on the floor with the animals. Or else they would go out and eat at one of the cheap ethnic restaurants in the area. Yeah, she missed them.

Maureen drove to the store. She turned left on Clybourne into the Treasure Island parking lot to pick up the things needed for Saturday’s dinner. Shopping at TI was fun because they had everything. Her dad was a good cook and it made her proud that he let her shop for the main course. Usually, he would do it himself. He would see what was good, what was on sale, and what he would like to cook.

Maureen remembered the first time her dad had brought home squid -- she was eight. It looked so ugly and strange and disgusting that she said no, she would never try it.Never ever try it? Her dad said,Come on Emmy, try it, you’ll like it when it’s cooked.

It was a gray fall day that chilled your bones. A perfect afternoon to spend in a warm kitchen.

She filled the big pot with cold water and, with herculean effort, lifted it up on the stove and set it to boil. A pinch of salt and a little oil were added when the water started to boil. Her dad cut the squid into rings. She watched him sauté them with a little olive oil, garlic, and a light sprinkling of oregano and basil in a pan next to her boiling water. The smell of garlic and olive oil cooking was something that she would always remember—a part of her childhood.

She had always been an adventurous eater. It’s that this looked so disgusting and slimy when it was unwrapped, that she thought she could never try it, let alone like it.

The squid was placed with the linguini in a good sized earthenware bowl with pictures of tomatoes carved into the bottom. She brought it to the table.

He gave her a big chunk of hard crusted bread with loose flour dust on top and a little dry Chianti in a juice glass.

Go on, try it you’ll love it. he said while wiping his hands on his apron made from a dish towel.Go on.

They sat at the big kitchen table after they brought knives and the other used cooking equipment to the sink.

She gathered some linguini on her fork and speared a piece of squid. She tasted it, smiled and said,Daddy, you’re always right. How could I have doubted you?

She smiled at him. He smiled at her. They always had fun in the kitchen.

This afternoon she shopped for shrimps for an appetizer and a small pork roast for the two of them. Dinner wouldn’t be fancy, just some simple food to go with a nice Rhine wine. They were going to have an early dinner and then go to the Webster Place Theatre and catch the new Tom Cruise movie.

She found a nice three and a half pound pork roast and some jumbo shrimps and a bottle of Rheingau Kabinett to go with it.

What would shopping be without impulse buying? She picked up some white candles and some lox, bagels, cream cheese, tomato and a sweet onion for tomorrow’s breakfast. Should she get the Sunday paper now? Maybe not. It's too early to have anything about today’s Cubs game. She carried the bag of groceries out to her car, put them in the passenger seat and drove off.

What luck. A parking spot. It was on the same side of the street and a little west of their house on Wellington. She parked in front ofBottles and Cans after letting two speeding police cars go by. That was the name she and her father gave to the bar next to the railroad tracks because the most prominent words on their sign wereBottles and Cans. She picked up the groceries, locked her door, and walked toward the tracks. These were not regular train tracks, these were only used when one of the local meat packing companies had a shipment coming in. They might be used three or four times a week. Two more squad cars raced down Wellington, and bounced over the tracks, no sirens only flashing lights, just like the other two.

She looked north up the tracks and at the side ofBottles and Cans and walked east to her dad’s house. When she was almost across the tracks, she saw a bush shaking and heard a noise by the fence on the other side of the tracks. What was that, a squirrel, a rat?

She walked toward the moving bush. Six feet away, she could see the bush shaker. It was a big dog trying to dig a hole.

"Hey, what are you doing?’ she said to the dog.

The dog stopped digging and came out from behind the shrubbery. He had his head down and was moving toward her very slowly.

Although he was a large dog, over a hundred pounds, he didn’t look threatening. He seemed like he didn’t know where he was going or maybe, he didn’t know where he was.

She bent over holding her purse and bag of groceries in her left arm.Come here puppy. I’m not going to hurt you, she said as she bent over and held out the back of her hand for him to smell.

The big brown dog came closer and raised his head to sniff her hand. Then he put his head down and looked at the ground in front of him.

She patted his head and ruffled his ears.You’re a cutie, yes you are. She straightened up, smiled at the dog, and said,Bye bye, puppy, don’t work too hard, and continued walking to her dad’s house.

The dog lifted his head and watched her leave. He let out a loud bark and then a sneeze.

Maureen stopped and turned around.What’s wrong? Are you lost? She walked back to the dog, bent down and felt his neck for a collar or tag of some kind. Nothing.That’s unusual, a big expensive dog like you and no tag? She was now face to face with the dog. She put down her purse and grocery bag and cradled his head between her hands.What are we going to do with you? We can’t let you just roam around and get into trouble can we? No, we can’t. Come on, follow me. She picked up her purse and groceries and patted her thigh and said,Come on, come on boy.

He looked down again and then slowly started walking toward her. Maureen turned around and began walking again and looked back to see if she was being followed. She was. He was coming slowly but surely on the sidewalk behind her.

Dad, look what I found, she said after climbing the stairs to the second floor apartment. The door was ajar on the second floor landing. She pushed it fully open with her hip and walked in, the dog still slowly climbing the stairs. She walked through the living and dining room and into the kitchen. It was all the way in the back. Her dad was there, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a Tom Clancy thriller opened in front of him.

Dad, look what followed me home. Her dad looked up, and slowly in walked the dog, walking with his head down sniffing the floor.

Oh, he’s a big one. Where did you find him? Does he have a collar or tag? Her dad asked as he got up from his chair and walked to the newcomer.Hi, big guy. How’re you doing? He rubbed the top of the dog’s head and lifted a front paw. What’s on his paws? They really look grimy.

When I found him outside of Bottles and Cans, he was behind a bush digging. He seems very well behaved and mild mannered. She put the groceries and her purse on the table.

There’s something else on his paws besides the dirt, maybe paint or something.

Maureen joined her dad kneeling on the floor in front of the quiet dog. She picked up the paw that her dad was holding and gave it a close inspection with her younger eyes.

It looks like blood to me. I think he must have cut himself between his pads.

The dog didn’t mind their inspection, he just sat there and was quiet.

Maureen got up and went to the sink. She ran some warm water and moistened an old dish rag that was under the sink.

There, there, puppy, we’ll have you cleaned up in a minute. She very delicately washed the bottom of the dog’s front paw, being careful not to hurt the wound on his foot. He sat quietly. As she cleaned his foot, she saw a sparkling little object stuck into the side of one of the pads. It looked like a little piece of glass. She brought his paw closer to her eyes. It wasn’t glass, it was a tiny silver star. She reached for it with her thumb and forefinger nails and carefully pulled it out and set it on the table.

What is this, dad? She asked while continuing to wash the dog’s leg. She pointed with her head at the star

He looked at it and said,There’s a little hole in it. Maybe it’s from some jewelry. Yeah, it could be.

She couldn’t see any other injury or cuts. She thought that the cut was not large enough to cause all of this blood. Whatever was on his leg was now gone. The dog didn’t mind the attention, but then he wasn’t really enjoying himself either. He looked spaced out.

Look, Em, it’s on his other front paw too. She looked and touched the other forefoot. The same stuff was on that foot also.And it’s on the back feet also, her dad added.

Maureen looked at the back feet and they were also discolored with the dried-on substance, only more so. The blotches went half way up the back’s of his legs, like he was sitting in something.

I’m going to clean this rag and do the other feet, dad. Do you see any more of this stuff anywhere? she asked as she went to the sink and rinsed the rag under the faucet.

Em, maybe it would be easier if we just gave him a bath.

What about our movie? We wouldn’t have time for dinner and bathing the dog before the movie. What do you think? She said while wringing the old dishrag.

I would rather play with our new guest than go to the movie. What about you?

That sounds OK to me. I could go out and get some dog food then.

He could have the bones from our pork roast. You could get dog food and a brush tomorrow, Em.

Dad, we’ll have to find his owner. She said with anxiety in her voice.This is a very nice dog and I’m sure that someone is worried about him. I’ll hold off on the brush for now. She turned the water off, put down the rag, and went to the bathroom to start the tub water running. She said to herself,I hope we can’t find his owner. Her dad yelled from the kitchen,I hope we can’t find his owner." She smiled.

She went back into the kitchen. The dog was sitting next to the table watching her dad add some thyme and caraway seeds to the top of the roast that Maureen had just bought.

Good selection of roast, Honey, perfect size and it’s not too lean. He put the roast into the oven and started cleaning the shrimps.Em, put the wine in the freezer so it’ll be cold enough when the roast is done. Then would you please bring me some horseradish for my cocktail sauce?

She had her head in the refrigerator looking for the horseradish and said,This is quite a well behaved dog, no barking, no running around. I’d love to have a dog like this.

Well, you can have him if we can’t find his owner.

No, dad, I couldn’t. I couldn’t keep him in my apartment. But I sure would love to visit him when I come here.

The smell of the roasting pork with thyme and caraway drifted into the bathroom where Maureen was still drying the dog.Ready for supper, puppy? She said as the dog half heartedly tried to escape from the fluffy towel and go to the origin of the smell. Thyme, caraway, it smelled great on this warm summer night.

Maureen sat down at the kitchen table while her dad was setting the table. She was at the other end of the table with red and black magic markers. She made two signs that read:

BIG DOG FOUND

VICINITY OF WELLINGTON AND LAKEWOOD

MALE

BROWN GERMAN SHEPHERD

CALL 313-846-1212

How do they look? Should I put them out now or wait till morning, Dad?

I’d put one on the tree right out in front of the house now and do the rest tomorrow.

Good idea, Dad. She grabbed a sign and walked out of the kitchen on her way to the tree in front of the house.

They had a nice meal, starting off with the fresh shrimp in horseradish and ketchup sauce on a leaf of lettuce, and then the pork roast. The roast had its entire upper surface covered with a crust made of the darkened burnt fat that clogged your arteries instantly. It tasted so good that you didn’t mind your up imminent death. And the aroma—it was a wonderful peaceful home smell. The wine that Maureen had chosen, a Reingeau, was perfect with the roast and the small whole potatoes. A little Italian bread and whole kernel corn completed the meal. For desert they had vanilla ice cream and coffee. They finished the wine but a little of the roast was left.

Should I give it to the dog? he asked as he held the platter with the meat and looked at the dog who had been a perfect guest all through dinner. He looked up at them but did not make a sound. He did move around a lot, frowning, changing his viewing position and letting them know that he was there and didn’t want to be forgotten. He looked like a regular dog now, he didn’t have that lost, dazed look.

No, that wouldn’t be good for him. I’ll go to the 7-Eleven and pick up some food for him. Maybe you can give him just a small piece. He’s been so good and one piece won’t hurt.

Don’t forget a paper, I want to read how my Cubbies did. Do you need some money?

No, I’m all set, Dad. I’ll see you two in a few minutes.

Maureen walked down Wellington to the 7-Eleven on the corner of Southport and Wellington. It was only two blocks from the house and a very pleasant walk on this warm summer night. I’d love to stay out all night." She said, the tree limbs bobbing in the soft breeze, the leaves shimmering quietly.

Hi, Pete, how’re you doing? she said to the old man behind the counter. She knew Pete for many years. She grew up here and Pete was one of her neighbors. He retired a few years back and he now worked part time at the 7-Eleven.

Hello Hon, how are you?

I’m fine, Pete. How are you?"

Can’t complain, and if I did, nobody would care anyway. What do you need, dear? he said giving her his complete attention.

I need the latest Trib. Dad wants to read about today’s Cub game.

Here it is, and the Cubs almost made the headlines, Pete said as he handed her a hefty Sunday paper from the large pile next to the counter.

Thank you, Pete,she said as she picked up the paper and read the headlines:

GAY ACTIVIST KILLED ON NORTH SIDE

CUBS WIN 5 IN A ROW

That guy was killed real close to here, on Belmont and Racine. I could see the ambulances and police cars going right passed my store here. Did you see them, Maureen? They were all over the place.

No, Pete, I didn’t see them. I must have been at the store then. She replied absentmindedly. She was totally absorbed in looking for the dog food. She came back to Pete at the counter with a box of No-Fret Dog food.

There ain’t no place that’s safe anymore.

You’re right Pete. She smiled at him, waved and left the store.

She strolled home looking at the sky, loving life, loving the new dog, loving her freedom.I’ll bet that if there weren’t so many lights around here, I could see a million stars.

Chapter 3

The Call

She was filling the dog’s bowl with No-Fret Pet dog food when the phone rang. It was late Monday afternoon. She went to the kitchen where the phone was mounted on the wall and picked up the handset.

Hello?

Hello, Em, Is that You?

Yes.

It’s me, Gerry. How are you doing?

I’m OK. How are you?

Fine. Listen, Em, I’ve got some bad news for you.

What is it Gerry?

It’s your apartment. Someone broke into it yesterday afternoon.

Oh my God! What did they take? Did they make a big mess?"

No, nothing was taken. The guy broke the lock on your door and heard someone coming so he took off.

Oh my God!

Yeah, the lady from the third floor was coming up the stairs and this kid comes running down the stairs, covering his face so she couldn’t see who he was, and almost knocks her down the stairs. When she gets to the second floor she sees your door open. She knows that you’re visiting your dad so she looks in to see if this kid messed anything up. Then she left the door as she found it and called the cops.

What a sweetheart! Was she shaken up by this?

Nah, she’s OK. You’re lucky to have nice neighbors like her.

I’ll say, and she’s my landlord too.

Are you enjoying yourself in the Windy City?

I was until you called.

Thanks a lot!

You know what I mean. I appreciate your calling me about this.

Yeah, well, you don’t have to do anything, like cut your trip short or anything. Your place is all locked up and secure. I think the police are even watching it now.

Well that’s good to know. How are you guys doing without me? Is everyone in tears? Has work come to a standstill?

Well, honestly, we do miss you. And Tom hasn’t been around for lunch for the last few days so I’ve been pretty much alone, and eating in my office.When are you going to be back?"

I’ll be at work next Monday. And, I miss you guys. I have no one to throw potato chips at here, she said with nostalgia in her voice.I am having a nice time with my dad, but I do miss you all.By the way. We’ve got a dog."

What? A dog?

"Yeah, a big dog. He’s a German Shepherd and we don’t have a name for him yet.

I found him wandering around looking like he was lost. We’ve put posters on trees all around here and in the grocery stores but so far, no one has called. I hope we can keep him because he is really wonderful-- and smart.

That sounds good. I’m happy for you, Gerry said,but I have to go now, lots of work. It was great talking to you.

Yeah, me too. I’ll see you real soon. Bye bye, Ger.

Bye Em.

She hung up and didn’t realize that she had wandered into the living room and was sitting on the sofa. She was saddened by the call. Her apartment, her friends, she missed them—so far away.

The leaves from the trees in the parkway made slow moving shadows, rocking back and forth across the wall. She was lonely. The dog came over to her and rested his head on her knee. He had that clean dog smell about him. She put her hand on his head and slowly stroked his fur. This togetherness made her feel better. She said to herself,God, I hope no one claims him. He is so nice to have around. Such a nice big dog.

Chapter 4

Maureen returns to Miami

Maureen’s dad drove her to O’Hare to catch her flight to Atlanta. Then, after a 45 minute wait, on to Miami in a puddle jumper.

Her plane arrived after dark, after the rain stopped. She walked with the other passengers down the portable stairs to the shiny wet pavement toward the terminal.

No matter how many times she flew into Miami, she was always overwhelmed by the non-Chicago, non-Midwest climate. These were the Tropics, the land of the piña colada, not the city of the shot-and-a-beer. The swishing palms made sounds never heard in Chicago. Humidity cloaked her, her arms, her neck. Just carrying the thick Chicago coat over her arm and wearing her short sleeved open neck top, she was hot. She smiled, picked up her luggage and went out to look for a cab.This is the way a person should feel, she said to herself.This is good.

Maureen rode the Dolphin Expressway east for ten minutes to the Mac Arthur Causeway. That took her across Biscayne Bay to Miami Beach where she lived on Meridan Avenue.

At the 7th and Meridan, the stop light hung on cables above the intersection, swaying in the light breeze, casting four strips of light onto the wet pavement—all the house lights were off—it was the only illumination in the complete darkness everywhere. She got out of the cab in front of her building. Enshrouded in this dark, moist air, she shivered.

After paying the cabby and tipping him nicely for carrying the two bags to her second floor apartment, she looked for damage of the break in on her second floor door. It looked the same as when she left over a week ago. Inside, the plants looked good. Mrs. Anderly must have watered them while she was gone. What a nice person.

She unpacked and put everything away before getting ready for bed. She did all her laundry at her dad’s so she was ready for a week of work.

It’ll be good to see her work buddies tomorrow.

Chapter 5

Back at work

As each of her co-workers came in, they stopped to ask about her trip, welcome her back. Carmen baked some lemon slices to make Maureen’s return festive. After thehow was it in Chicago’s were finished in the business office, she went to her own office to see what had accumulated during her absence. She checked her voice mail: twenty messages, nothing important.Enough mail here to start my own post office. What a thing to return to." She was shuffling her mail when Gerry came in.

Are you happy to be back? We’re glad you’re back. Gerry said smiling, leaning against the door frame.

It is good to be back, but I feel like I’ll never catch up.

It only looks that way. You’ll be all caught up by Friday.

I suppose you’re right. She said.

Gerry waved good-bye and left Maureen to continue her clean up.

Bigdog was coming in on Monday night, a direct flight from Chicago—nothing but the best for her pal.

She only waited ten minutes before seeing the noisy yellow lift truck with Bigdog coming toward her. When he saw Maureen, he tried to stand in the small carrier, moving his head around in excitement, but even more happy to leave the confines of his small house.

The lift truck lowered him to the ground and he really began to pace, left and right, tongue hanging out, wild with happiness to see Maureen.

She thanked the lift truck driver and opened Bigdog’s carrier—not quick enough for him—and put him on a leash. She folded the cage, and signed the required papers—all before Bigdog became too antsy to control.

Bigdog checkout Miami on the ride home from the passenger seat, his head and paws far out the window—so much so that Maureen was distracted from her driving watching