Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,19

I turned around.

“What do you want this time?” I asked sarcastically, turning to face the black dog. “And don’t just say bark! Not that I would understand you if you said anything else, not that you can say anything else . . . Oh God, whatever! I can’t be talking to a dog now. I’m in a hurry, I need the immobilizer—what car still even has one of those anyway—and you know what? I actually don’t care what you want, or if you’re even real. I don’t care if you are a weird figment of my imagination.” I stood up and started walking towards the dog. It straightened up. “You know what? You are far too big for your own good! Your fur is way too wire-like and you have one eye, you creature from the bog or wherever you come from—” I stopped and gasped in shock when I saw it. Because there, dangling from Satan’s snaggletooth . . . the little grey immobilizer.

I smiled down at him, changing my tune immediately. “Doggy! Pretty little cute, uh . . .” I held my hand out tentatively, moving it closer and closer to the grey button that was dangling from the big, ugly tooth. “Preeeettty please, big guy. Give me the key. I’ll give you a yummy treat. Yummy for your tummy.” I rolled my eyes. Okay, I didn’t know how to talk to dogs. This was very obvious. I had never owned one. I crept a little closer and then deliberately made eye contact with him. I tried to communicate with my eyes to his eye (singular), that I really, really needed that immobilizer. And it seemed to be working because he cocked his head to the side and his jaw loosened somewhat, as if he was about to drop it to the floor.

“Thank Go— NO! NO!” I yelled, watching in horror as he threw his head back and the immobilizer vanished down his black mouth.

“You didn’t!” I rushed over. I was no longer afraid of him, he might not even be real, after all. I reached for his mouth and pulled it open, looking inside. (Although that did feel very real.) It wasn’t there though, and because I think I had watched something like it on a medical drama, I ran to the back of the dog, put my arms around his body and began some animal version of the Heimlich maneuver. But he was heavy, and I was only able to jerk him ever so slightly.

“Spit! It! Out!” I said with each pull. But nothing happened. He simply sat there, looking at me over his shoulder as I tried to shake the key out of him. At last, my arms could no longer handle the weight of him, and I collapsed onto my back and lay there looking at the ceiling.

“You swallowed my car immobilizer,” I whimpered. “And now I can’t get out of here. I’m stuck!” And then, for the one hundredth time in the last couple of days, I cried. And then I laughed. I laugh/cried. I laughed so hard that I choked on the tears, and snorted and hiccupped until my ribs hurt. I looked to my left. Satan’s Little Helper sat there looking at me with his one yellow eye. I stopped laughing and wiped the tears from my face. I propped myself up on my elbow and glared at him.

“God, you are so damn ugly.”

“Ruufff!”

“Did you do this to me because I didn’t thank you for saving me from that snake?” I asked. “Is that why you’re punishing me?” This time he didn’t bark. “You know, I would have seen that snake anyway. It’s not like you saved my life.” I glared at him again and he glared straight back. “Fine, thank you for saving me from that snake, now will you please give the immobilizer back?” I held my hand out and watched and waited for him to miraculously spit it out. He didn’t, so I flopped back down to the floor and lay flat on my back again. And then something strange happened. Satan slid down too, lying next to me. I watched as he carefully rested his head on my foot, and then breathed out as if he was relaxing. We lay there for a while, until it hit me and I sat up again. It hadn’t even crossed my mind, until now.

“Wait, you swallowed an immobilizer! Oh my God. You could die!” I jumped up and rushed over