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down the stairs. I gulped and walked down slowly with a broom in hand. I hated killing mice. Maybe I should have woken Josh and had him do it. But if I did, I might come across as being too girly and I really didn’t want that. Be tough, Isabel, you can do this. Samson was growling louder and it sounded like he had something in his mouth. Oh god! I hope he hasn’t killed it. It’s such a bloody mess when he does that. My stomach was beginning to feel queasy. I caught up to Samson when something jumped out from behind me. “Gah!” I let out a soft cry. It was a flying squirrel. Samson jumped and caught it like a Frisbee, killing it. Ew!

“Samson, drop it,” I commanded. He let it fall to the floor. Gross! It was bleeding. I opened the basement door to the outside and swept it out. I did not want to pick that thing up. As I was closing the door, I noticed a figure in the distance. He or she looked like they were staring at me. Chills ran down my spine. Samson barked a few times, making me jump. I quickly shut and locked the door.

The game was over and the Cowboys had won by three. Josh was still asleep. I wasn’t sleepy so I decided to watch the post-game. I noticed Josh did drink his beer after all. I supposed he couldn’t help himself. I hoped he wouldn’t get reprimanded; it would be my fault, entirely, if he did.

I woke up to Samson breathing in my face. Blah! He had the worst breath. I pushed him away and rolled over, only to hit something with my forehead. “Ouch!” My eyes flew open, wondering what I just hit. It was Josh’s armpit. Why was he so hard? I rubbed my forehead, popped up and saw we were both covered with the quilt that had been lying over the sofa last night. “I don’t remember falling asleep,” I whispered to myself. And the television was off—did he turn it off or did I? Did he cover us with the quilt or did I? Samson was starting to do his throaty whine and stared at me. This was his way of letting me know he was ready for his walk. I didn’t want him to wake Josh so I got up. I went to use the bathroom, brushed my teeth, got my warm-ups on and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I sent Jill a short text before coming out of my room. Josh was still asleep. I thought with all the bathroom noise and Samson whining he would wake up. Nope. He was clearly a hard sleeper. Some babysitter he was. I put my tennis shoes on and grabbed my winter jacket. Samson had his leash in his mouth so I took it and out the back door we went.

It was early on a Friday morning; the sun was barely coming up so I didn’t bother to put the leash on him. It looked like my neighbors were still asleep and I didn’t see the usual joggers so I wasn’t worried. It was pretty cold out for me—November weather in Chicago was more like our Texas winters. However, I did love the snow and playing with Samson in the snow. He was a Huskie with a lot of thick fur so when the cold weather comes, he gets friskier and more playful. I was walking briskly to keep warm and to keep up with Samson. The joggers started to surface so I put him on his leash. It was just going to be a short walk today so we didn’t take our usual route. I could see one of my neighbors out on her porch, enjoying the cold air and drinking her coffee. She was watching people go by. It was Mrs. Martin, a very well-to-do, sixty-four-year-old widow with two little dogs that hated Samson and barked incessantly. If dogs could get the Napoleon complex then these dogs had it! They were the meanest things on four legs and I almost thought it was because of their small size.

She was the sweetest lady I’d ever had the good fortune to meet and get to know. We talked about everything from politics to God. I loved her and loved being around her. Her two dogs, on the other hand, were a different story.

“Good morning Mrs. Martin! Where are those feisty dogs of yours? I didn’t hear them this morning,” I said, secretly thankful they were MIA.

“They are at the vet this morning, getting their teeth cleaned. What are you doing up so early this morning, Miss Isabel?” She liked putting the Miss in front of my name a lot. She thought that’s how we talked in Texas so she adopted it since she liked it so much. I hadn’t the heart to tell her she sounded like the elementary kids I worked with.

I walked up to her porch. “Samson woke me with his heavy breathing. I suppose he was ready earlier for his walk today.”

Mrs. Martin let out a big laugh. “Don’t you just love how they’re so much like children?” She was still laughing; her laugh was contagious.

I looked in the direction of my house and squinted, trying to see through a window. I lived right next door to Mrs. Martin so I felt like I should possibly apprise her of my situation. I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. I saw some movement in my house; it looked like Josh was finally waking up.

“Are you looking to see if your gentleman friend is still there?” She had a soft smile on her face. “Is that the young doctor you were telling me about? The one that works at Cook County Hospital with you?”

“No, no,” I said with a sigh. “That was Dr. Summers, Dr. David Summers.

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