The dog’s name is Tulsa. I know this dog. I must know her really well. She starts walking at a fast pace away from me then barking and coming back. She does this a few times, obviously wanting me to come with her. I follow her, down the path, through some trees and toward a cabin. She looks back often to make sure I’m still with her. We approach the large log cabin, and Tulsa runs through the doggy door and barks at me, not an angry bark, just a get the hell in here sort of bark.

I turn the knob, and the door opens. The first thing I do is go to the kitchen. There is a knife block on the counter. I take the largest knife, holding it in my right hand with a firm grip. The afternoon is starting to dim a bit, but there is still plenty of light for me to be able to see everything around me. There is a large living room area and kitchen, with a cage, no a jail cell at the back of the cabin. The cell is open, and nobody is in there. There are a lot water bottles, bread, peanut butter, and jam in the cell. The cell has a toilet and a sink, both look relatively clean.

In the living room area, a bag of dog food lies there, open and half empty. Tulsa has one of those water dishes that has a large water container attached to it, so it gives her water whenever her bowl begins to empty. The container is almost empty though.

There is a hallway, it seems to have a single bedroom and a bathroom. The bathroom door is open. I see nobody, but the shower curtain is closed. My heart is racing. I slide the curtain open quickly.

Son of Sappho Through the Gates , ,

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