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Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Biographical · #2284278
A happy event ends up not so happy.
One time I decided to use those roasting bags where you put in your meat, vegetables, a little water, and seasonings, then close it up with a twisty and roast it in the oven. I did.

It was a large chicken. I roasted it a good hour or so. Meanwhile, I tidied up the kitchen, then grabbed a cup of coffee before settling onto the sofa. Took a sip or two. Ah.


I went to the back door and let Scout in. He was a beautiful Golden Retriever and I liked him being in the house with me. I had no car to go anywhere so I was usually stuck inside. Alone.

The ex had adopted him from a couple.The owner of the dog worked at the garage where he worked. They were moving away and couldn't take the dog with them and had asked if we'd like him.

Apparently, the ex said yes and brought him home. I was excited. A dog. He was gorgeous and energetic. We had a large yard. This meant I'd not be sitting at home alone. It allowed for a chance for us to get to know each other.

He loved being inside the house with me, while the human was at work. I will refer to him as the human or soon-to-be ex, for lack of better terms.


Scout had settled into a spot by the sofa right next to me, happily laying his face on my knee.
Maybe this was what he was use to by his previous owners. We'd done this for several days, possibly weeks. He was such a happy dog for not having his owners there. I'm not sure how he adjusted so well.

We both sat there enjoying the quiet and the warmth of the fire in our fireplace. I had lost track of time and didn't put the dog back outside.

Unfortunately, my soon-to-be-ex came home.

We ate, then I moved the dishes from the table. Scout followed me then sat, watched, and waited. We again settled into the sofa for a few minutes, and watched tv. I glanced at my ex. His body seemed a bit stiff. Scout also saw him. I looked from one to the other wondering what the problem was. They stared at each other. Something had changed.

I barely heard a rumbling in Scout's throat, then slightly louder.

My ex said to the dog, "You son of a bitch."

By this time, the dog was on alert, stiff and watchful. I got the feeling he might lunge forward if he felt attacked. These dogs can jump far. He also might have been afraid for me and ready to protect. I stroked his head,put my arm around his neck, and told him that everything's okay.

My soon- to-be-ex, though, was wearing a scowl.

"What's wrong? Why are you upset? I can see it in your face, and so can the dog. He senses by your stare and body language that you're angry."

"He growled at me, and you're rewarding him for it."

"That's not true. I don't want him to fear us. He needs to know he's safe and can trust us. He's still getting to know us. You might growl too if someone looked at you that way. He didn't do anything wrong."

"You pay more attention to him than you do me."

"Are you serious? You're jealous of a beautiful, smart, loving dog? Come on. Why'd we get this dog if he's not going to be treated like a part of our family? He keeps me safe here at home."

Why would he be jealous if it wasn't usual for him and I to sit all cozy together anyway. But he was. He'd always had it in his mind that I was his. The truth is I never wanted to be with him, and he had to know that already, but simply didn't care. This was all about him


The ex hadn't ever talked to or interacted with the dog. It was okay, because I gave him attention.

The truth is deep down I resented this man. Way before this, he had taken advantage of a situation, and basically kept me against my will. He moved me around, discouraged any friendships that may have developed. He spent whatever money I had earned if I worked. Worse yet, he helped destroy a significant and wonderful relationship.

But that's yet another long and involved story, a true story, to be shared some day.


As these two, dog and man had a kind of stand off I knew Scout might end up not faring so well.

The exe's scowl was even more apparent. It was too late.The poor dog somehow had insulted his fragile ego. The man was not forgiving or willing to compromise. By his attitude, he was the boss and in charge. I saw him on a daily basis as he really was, a manipulative, narcissistic, control freak.

And I had a bad feeling about this. Something told me this wouldn't end well.

At some point in time, while the ex was at work, I called the only people I thought might care about my well-being. I asked if I could come home. What I didn't expect was anger and accusations.

"No! You took us for granted. You did not appreciate us giving you a safe home."

"Please. That's not true. You don't know how bad things are."

"You're on your own and you cannot ever come home."

All this time, my face felt like it was on fire, my stomach was in a knot, my tears fell down my face. I could barely hold the phone, my hands were shaking so bad.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, stunned at what had just happened. I cried pretty hard that day even after we disconnected. I felt shot down. I tried to explain things, but there was too much involved.

It was the last time I talked to either of them, no wait, later I tried to reach out again. Meanwhile, I tolerated this tyrant, this fake. Sad as I was, I had nobody to understand what was happening to me and so I pretended.

I had been surviving, while I usually just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. He basically took over everything. There was one person who would have messed him up good if he knew what was going on, but he didn't know, and assumed something else.


As for Scout, that next day the human had put the dog outside, and put a lock on its chain so he couldn't come in the house, but was able to run back and forth under the clothesline.

I said, "We can't leave the dog out there like that. He needs to come inside too. He might freeze out there. He needs shelter. We can put him in the washroom."

"No. He is not coming inside."

Next thing I know, he hooked him up so Scout could at least get inside the metal shed by the back wall. Still, he left the lock on. There were no blankets for him to lay on either.

I fed Scout and went out there everyday, even in frigid weather. I couldn't stay out long though as it felt like my eyeballs were going to freeze up. I wanted him inside the house by me. I felt safer that way. If I had a choice, I'd had chosen Scout to live with, over the future ex, but I had no way to do that. He wasn't being a nice human and I wasn't liking him at all.


This day though, my roast beef was cooking in it's bag and now done. Just the scent made my mouth water. It turned out really tasty.

When it came time to clean up, I decided not to waste the juices and thought about how I'd do that. I bet our dog would love it.

I looked out the window. Scout was outside in the yard, jumping around in the snow. I thought I'd just throw the bag out there and he can lick up the juices.

Twenty minutes later, I checked on it to see if he was done. The dog was there. But not the bag. I couldn't find it. It had vanished like a Ninja.

"Where is it?" I asked Scout. "Let's go find it."

Of course he didn't answer. He stared back at me, turning his head sideways. He followed me to the back fence. Still nothing, looking wherever I was looking. He must have sensed that I lost something, but wasn't sure what.

Back at the porch, I noticed an item near the steps and sticking out of the snow. I picked it up. A little twisty with just the ends left on it's closure.

Hmm. He couldn't have. I looked at him again. He had a happy face, panting, and waiting.

My hand went to my mouth. "Oh God! Did you eat the bag?" I asked. "Did you?"

His ears went back, his eyes looking at the ground then up at me, blinking. They seemed to say, "Uhoh, I'm in trouble. Mom is not happy. I wonder what I did.". The big brown puppy dog eyes were enough for me to cave in.

"Come here. It's not your fault." I gave him a reassuring hug and petted him. "You're not soppose to eat the bag, silly dog."

I figured he must be okay or he'd not be so interested. I was worried what could happen as the bag traveled though his stomach, churning into his large and small intestines, and later down "the chute". I wondered what it might get hung up on.


I watched him for several days and wondered when or if the bag might come out the other end. It didn't, as far as I know.

Maybe it was hidden under the snow. I never found it and nothing bad happened to the dog. I then realised that I shouldn't have given it to him like that. What if he died because of it?

I never did that again.


One day I went outside. Scout was gone. He had to have taken him.

"Where's the dog?

"I don't know."

"What do you mean? Did you take him somewhere? Those people trusted us with him. It would upset the dog if we don't keep him. We promised to take care of him."

"We couldn't keep him. We're moving anyway."

I knew then he'd done something with Scout. I couldn't do anything about it. I hated him for it. He didn't mind bringing the dog home, but he also didn't like that we'd got to know each other and already developed a rapport. It was just the start of a lifelong friendship, and there he was destroying it, just like he'd destroyed a previous relationship.


Even if he turned Scout loose, anything could happen to him. I'm pretty sure he didn't take him to the animal shelter. He might have taken him to an old lady friend he knew from years ago. She lived in New Jersey. She was an old girlfriend. She didn't live too far from the place we lived in Camp Springs, Maryland.

I hoped Scout wasn't hurt. I missed him. The dog deserved better than that. If he was wandering around somebody would notice.

At least that would be better than being lost in some strange place. I knew I'd never see him again. Scout and I didn't have much time together, and we'd already developed some kind of bond. It saddened me that this human could be so jealous and not even care how I felt about him dissing the dog and taking him away from me. Selfish person.

Worse yet, was his inability to truly care for other people who treated him kindly, and he didn't care much for animals, despite his problems. Neighbors never saw that side of him. To then he seemed like a fine, upstanding, loving citizen.

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