Number Seven of MG’s Nine Lives
Her thoughts looped. “He’s always here at dinnertime. If dinner is late, he’s gets vocal and lets me know I’m tardy. His volume escalates until he’s fed. He runs on his stomach and never misses an opportunity for a feed. Something is wrong. What if he’s sick, or he got hit by a car? He could’ve been in a fight.”
She circled the small backyard, looking into all the places he squeezed into so he’d have an undisturbed nap. Then she walked into the front yard, looking under the bushes and anywhere else he hid to observe the world go by and maintain his safety. With every empty space, she confirmed he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
She walked down to the corner of the street, calling his name, stopping where he waited for her when she went for a walk at night. She walked up the hill, going further than where he stopped to wait for her when she walked this way. There was no sign of him.
It was well past his dinnertime. She turned on the house lights and left the garage door open. He’d meow to be let inside.
The cul-de-sac was quiet. Most people were home preparing their evening meal. She should’ve been cooking dinner instead of pacing up and down the driveway, waiting. Tonight, she was hanging around the front yard, hoping to see the large orange streak racing towards her.
Then she remembered the security cameras and raced inside to turn them on. She selected the front camera as he sat in the front yard, waiting for her to come home. He was her welcome home committee. She never came home to an empty house.
She ran the camera feed, looking for MG, finding him about mid-morning when he came into camera view. He wandered across the front yard and took up a spot to sun himself.
After a few moments of watching the suburban scene, she saw the large blue kelpie from across the road, racing across her front yard, heading straight for MG. In seconds, the large dog opened his jaws, attempting to grab MG’s head. MG somersaulted and slid out of the dog’s huge maw, racing down the side of the house into the backyard. The dog followed.
The side lane and backyard didn’t have cameras. When she’d looked in the backyard, there’d been no sign of MG cowering in any of his safe hiding places where a large dog couldn’t follow.
It was dark by the time she’d replayed the scene a few times. She took a torch and combed every inch of the backyard again, calling MG’s name to let him know she was home.
There was no response. In the front yard, she walked to each bush, searching under each one, hoping for a clue to what happened after what she’d seen on camera. There was nothing.
All she could do was wait, fearing the worst.
She missed dinner, prowling the backyard and then the front yard, calling his name, turning on all the house lights and leaving the garage door open.
A neighbour out for his stroll noticed her worried look. She explained what she saw on the camera. He sympathised and said he would keep his eye out and let her know if he saw him.
It was midnight when she walked the perimeter of the backyard one more time before going to bed. She heard his quiet meow on the other side of her back fence. She called him and listened for a response. His meow was louder.
She raced up the long driveway of the house next door, thanking them in her mind for not having a front fence locking off their yard. She moved towards where she thought he was in relation to her own backyard, calling him. He called back, limping out from under the bushes as she got closer. She hugged him tightly after picking him up, speaking nonsense words to him as she made her way back into her own yard and house.
Inside, she examined him, looking for any injuries and finding his front paws scrapped and bleeding. She cleaned them, then fed him, giving him extra treats and sitting with him while he bolted his food as if he was starving.
Glad to have him home, she thought tomorrow she’d contact a builder because a front fence to keep out dogs was the order of the day.
