Loving Babe

By Susan Lyttek

“We’ll have dinner soon, Buddy,” Babe insisted.

I couldn’t see what she was dicing on the counter. I sniffed. Beef maybe?

The phone rang. “Wait a minute. I’ve got to answer this.”

I groaned. I tugged at her arm, trying to remind her about our dinner, but she shooed me away. Babe liked to talk.

“Oh Brian,” she said, “you are so sweet!” She giggled. Ugh. It was one of those goons that were trying to steal Babe away from me.

She’d talk to me about it late into the night after one of them dumped her. “You might not understand, Buddy, but it’s my dream to fall in love, marry, and live happily ever after.”

Oh, I understood all right, but I had already fallen. For her. I wanted to live out my days in her company. I wasn’t enough for her, though. She wanted one of them.

Babe laughed into the phone again. The back of my neck bristled under my collar. This was it. One way or another, I would protect her from her own stupid choices.

That meant keeping a close eye on my favorite girl.

That night, I sat up as she slept. Her chest rose and fell with every breath. She turned away from me, pulling on her blanket, so I crawled over to the other side of the bed. Walking from side to side kept her profile in sight until I accidentally drooled on her.

“Buddy! Yuck! Go to your own bed.” Babe stuck a foot out from the covers and tapped my rear like she did when I was small.

I slunk out of her room and down the hall.

In my bed, I contemplated how I could stay with her. Following her during the day would be the tricky part. Maybe if I slipped out at the same time as she did…

The next morning, I crept behind her as she left for work. “Oh, no you don’t!” She blocked my escape with her hip.

I whimpered and gave her my best smile—the one that always softened her up.

She sighed, leaned down, and gave me a hug. “Who’s going to keep an eye on things if you go with me?” She nudged me back inside.

She did have a point, but I wasn’t giving up. I licked my lips. I had to get sneakier.

That afternoon, as we walked together, I gradually pulled away from her. Once, when I was young, I’d darted behind a tree and accidentally broken the tie between us. Now to do it on purpose.

“Buddy, keep up.”

I grinned at her and hid behind a tree. She’d think I was just being high-spirited.

“Come on.” Babe started toward me.

I darted around the trunk, gauged the right angle, jumped.

Snap! The line parted and I was free.

“Buddy!” Babe called after me. She sounded heartbroken.  I took a few steps toward her, stopped, then turned and ran away.

I had my plan, and I was sticking to it.

I circled the park. I wanted to be out of her sight so I could keep her in mine.

To my surprise, Babe didn’t head back to the apartment. She sat down on a park bench and started crying. I planted my feet so I wouldn’t run to her side. Be strong. I have to get the upper hand. I have to watch her every move.

After a few minutes, she sat up and pulled out her phone. A-ha! I had her.

She talked to someone while wiping her eyes. There wasn’t a place where I could see and hear her without being spotted. And that would ruin my plan. If I returned, she’d take me for granted again and keep parading new guys past me. She needed to see that she belonged to me, not them. And I needed to follow her step by step. Doggedly, you might say.

The sun hadn’t moved far before Babe’s most recent guy showed up. She ran up to him and gave him a big hug. When they pulled apart, he wiped something off her face. I had to fight back a growl of disgust. But he didn’t kiss her—that was something. He walked her to edge of the park, close enough to my hiding spot that I could make out what he said. “We’ll find him, Babe. I know he’s important to you.”

She mumbled something in response, and he handed her a stack of papers.

“We’ll start with these. Maybe someone has seen something.” He nailed one to the electric pole.

They kept walking. I leaned in to see what he’d put up. It was a picture of Babe and me, her arm around my shoulders.

I remembered that day and how close we were. We’d gone camping together, just the two of us. I missed her so much I wanted to howl.

But I had my mission. Where had they gone to? I ran in the general direction I’d last seen them. Aha! There was Babe with some of the papers. She’d put one up on my favorite tree.

Her arm swung slowly as she walked, and her head drooped. How had I made her feel so bad? I sat down. Was I doing the right thing? Couldn’t I better protect her in our home?

A hand caught my collar. “Got you!”

It was the guy. I should have known he’d be watching her, too. I lunged for her, all four legs leaving the ground, but he held on, almost choking me.

He called, “Babe! Look who I found!”

She rushed over. I tried to run to meet her, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Buddy!” She knelt down and held onto me, tears dripping into my fur. The guy stood off to the side and gave us some space, like he understood.

When she called him over, I let him pet my head. Maybe this one wasn’t so bad.

But I’d still be watching.

Can you guess which song from the 1980's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan A. J. Lyttek, author of four novels, (fifth out June 2019) award-winning writer, blogger, wife and mother to two homeschool graduates currently escapes her employment search by writing random stories. You can find out more about her and her books at her website.

---

More Stories | Author Website | Facebook | Twitter