Tell us about Abigail

Calgon, take me away!

I came home from a long day of dealing with bickering spouses on the edge of divorce. Didn’t they realize that I’d heard nothing new in ten years? Lying, cheating, adultery, venereal diseases, concealing income, hiding food, destroying family heirlooms, breaking your great-grandparents’ china, I’d heard it all. And today, the worst of all, the Shepards. She’d taken their 3-year old daughter out of their Catholic school and put her in public education. Two years ago, and her husband only found out about it last Friday. I practically rolled my eyes. How could he be angry now, realizing he’d ignored his daughter for years?

But I had to be objective, and I had to be calm. Therapists can’t be excited or angry. I breathed in deeply through the nose, out through the mouth, just like they taught us in yoga class. All the salvation of the world can be found in yoga, I’ve come to believe as I approach fifty. That and my yellow lab, Abigail, just five months old.

Matthew was supposed to be home all day, taking care of the puppy. Will had gone to his software tester job down in Santa Clara, wouldn’t be back until 9 or 10 – but Matthew’d take care of things with the puppy.

I opened the door to the house. Thank God, I was home. Abigail came running, wagging her tail, jumping up, licking me on the face. But it looked like a bomb had gone off. The legs on the living room sofa were all chewed up, fringe from the oriental rug was strewn all over the floor, the chocolate cake I’d baked for Will’s birthday dinner was upside down and on the floor, and a trail of toilet paper came down from the upstairs bedroom, wrapped around the staircase, and down around the post on the landing. Oh – and the puppy had pooped on my favorite TV chair.

Breathe, Bernardo, I told myself. I looked at the puppy’s eyes, all innocent and unknowing. It’s not the end of the world, after all. But where was Matthew?

“Matthew, are you here?”

And then I walked around the house, finding nothing – until I went upstairs to our bedroom and saw the note on the nightstand. That was Will’s side of the bed.