Dogs Chapter One             The kitchen was too warm, and Dan wanted to open the door to the blessed winter air outside.  However, if he did, Sue would complain.  When she’d been his wife, she’d complained about everything, and now that she was his ex-wife, she complained even more.  Dan tried to keep these brief meetings when he picked up the kids as non-confrontational as possible.  It wasn’t easy.             “Don’t forget to put on her snow pants, not just the parka, when you bring her home,” Sue said.  She tied the bunny cap on two-year-old Jenny’s head.  “Last weekend you took her to the movies in just her parka.”             “She only had to go as far as the car,” Dan said.             “I don’t care.  Just listen to me, for once.  You never listen to me.”             “She’ll wear everything.  And Donnie will, too.”             Donnie, slumped in a corner over his Gameboy, said, “No, I won’t.  It’s not cold out.”             “It’s February!” Sue whined.  “Why doesn’t anybody listen to me?” “Sue, it’s February but it’s forty degrees out.” “That’s right, Dan, just undermine what I say.  You always were an underminer.  Donnie, do you have your math homework?”             “Yeah, I…hey, there she is!” Donnie leaped up and opened the kitchen door to the welcome cold.  The family dog, Princess, sped in.  “Dad, she’s been missing since yesterday and now here she is!”             “Hey, Principessa, hey old girl.”  Dan bent to stroke the golden retriever, whom he missed.  Memories flooded back: Princess curled at his feet during Monday Night Football, running at his side while he jogged, catching a Frisbee while Donnie laughed and laughed in his port-a-swing.  Good old Princess!             Princess snarled deep in her throat, a sound such as Dan had never heard her make before.              “Hey, Princess…”             The dog snarled again.  Her hackles rose and her ears strained forward.  Her tail lifted into the air.             Sue said, “She’s never done that before!”             “Hey, Princess, down, girl, good dog—“             Princess growled loudly, lips pulled back over her teeth.  Dan moved to grab her collar. He was too late.  The dog sprang at Jenny.             Sue screamed.  Jenny screamed, too, and Dan looked frantically around the kitchen.  He grabbed a frying pan from the dish drain and whacked Princess on the back, as hard as he could.  Her body shuddered but she didn’t let go of Jenny.  The little girl’s arms flailed in her pink parka.  Dan saw with stunned, sick disbelief that Princess had her by the neck.  He swung the frying pan again, this time on the dog’s head.             Slowly…so slowly, it seemed to take hours…Princess’s grip on Jenny slacked a little.   But the dog did not let go, and the child was no longer screaming.

Copyright ©2008 Nancy Kress