She crept through the mudroom-slash-laundry and to the door. "Shh."
The dog whined again.
She shouldn't, but she turned the deadbolt and cracked the door open anyway.
Immediately, the collie's nose filled the crack. His tail thumped against the outside wall, banging with each wag. It sounded like someone knocking.
Snot nuggets. That was not achieving the goal of keeping the dog quiet.
She used a strategically placed knee to keep the dog in the cramped laundry room and shut the inside door that led to the kitchen.
His tail banged the washing machine, and the loud metallic thud was twenty times worse.
"Shh, buddy. Shh."
She couldn't help a tiny giggle as she knelt and then was knocked onto her butt by the enthusiastic dog. He wiggled his way onto her lap, licking her neck and chin.
"Hey, now. I don't make out on the first date," she protested in a whisper.
Finally, the dog calmed. It sat next to her, and she let her back rest against the washing machine. She kept her arm around the dog's furry side, buried her nose in the soft fur of his ruff.
Tears came hot and sudden to her eyes.
But dogs never told secrets. She used one wrist to wipe the tears away.
Listening to the dog's panting breaths was better than staring at a clock upstairs.
Would she ever feel safe again?
