Do I Look Like I Have a Dog?
“Do I look like I have a dog?” barks a woman standing in her own threshold.
“Um,” says the neighbor, clutching at her cross necklace. “Well, yes. For example, your sweater is covered in dog hair.” She shuffles back a step on the doormat that reads, “Beware of dog.”
The woman bites her bottom lip. “I do not have a dog, OK? I never even had a Pug named Justice when I was little.” She clutches the doorknob, ready to slam.
“Look,” says the neighbor, “I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just that my husband is a surgeon and if he doesn’t sleep his hands get shaky.”
“Well, I hope you find out whose dog is barking!” she says. “Cause I don’t have an ‘effing dog, lady!” Behind her, a dog barks once. “Quiet, Charley!”
“What was that?”
“The TV.”
“You call your TV Charley?”
The women eye each other. “Look,” says the neighbor. “I host a church group on Wednesdays with all the other women in the neighborhood. Do you want to come?”
The woman squints. “I don’t know, are they all going to think that I have a dog because you’ve been spreading lies about me?”
“Um…” She clutches her necklace. “They might think you have a dog because of all the barking.”
