Trojan Dog.

She has infiltrated.

Her suspicious absence lulled me into a false sense of security. I thought she might have given up, set her targets on the new neighbors down the street, or maybe just gone on vacation (she is a travel agent after all). But that sly old lady was waiting for just the right opportunity. Now I am really frightened, because not only is she tenacious, she is patient.

It came wrapped in a black, plastic, garbage bag with a blue ribbon. In the spectrum of curious gifts, it was right at the top. Measuring about 3 1/2 feet wide by 5 feet long. Dick brought it over, clever, huh? It was a birthday gift for Gabriel. (I wasn’t aware that we were on gifting-terms with each other? Or that you knew his birthday?)

He waited at the door while we tore at the massive prune of a gift. I suspect under strict orders. Underneath the shiny black plastic poked the head of the largest German Shepard dog that I have ever seen. The rest of the furry canine went on forever. Gabriel was astonished. I was concerned.

Dick made his exit. Gabriel struggled to drag the dog into his room for a “puppy ride” while we read naptime stories. I wouldn’t touch it. As I read, I noticed the eyes. Were they following me? I read more quietly. Did I hear electronics straining to record? Was there static coming from his belly? No! That is crazy. The dog is stuffed. But stuffed with what I wondered?

While Gabriel slept, I inspected him—no ticking, soft to the touch, no obvious foreign materials. Apparently, she wants us alive. I threw a towel over his head until I could calculate my next steps.

I don’t trust that beast, anymore than I trust MaryEllen. She is in my home now, closer than she has ever been before, definitely too close for comfort. I have a sinking feeling that this dog is loyal to one master, and it is not Gabriel. I am keeping my distance for the moment.

But next week, I will be helping Gabriel make “Lost Dog” posters for the neighborhood.