Wind whistled round the corner of the house, thunder rolled and rain beat against the windows — not a night to be outside but rather to sit by the fire. Thanks to the solid walls and roof overhead, I could imagine Dr. Frankenstein's frightening creation wandering on such a night. I was alone, my husband away and the nearest neighbor a quarter miles down the road. Alone, that is, except for Lassie, a hairy, black and white dog, who sat with her head on my lap, her intelligent, brown eyes gazing up at me as if to say, don't worry, we'll be all right.
Through the years she was with us, she proved time and time again to be a superb judge of character. We never knew if it was a result of her sense of smell or sound-but, whatever it was, she definitely possessed a talent we humans lacked. On first meeting she would either wag the tip of her tail a couple of times to indicate that the visitor was acceptable, or slightly curl her top lip, exposing her sharp teeth which told you to be alert. Always accurate, her gift was never more obvious than on this night.
The doorbell rang. I decided not to answer it. It rang again, much longer this time. Whoever was there was not going away. Still I hesitated. On the fourth ring, with Lassie by my side, I finally answered the door. My heart beat fast and my mouth went dry, for there, stood the monster himself. A twisted body under a heavy overcoat, one shoulder bumped higher than the other and his head leaned slightly forward and to one side.
“May I use your phone?” The voice came from somewhere back in his throat and, although the request was polite, his tone was rude.
Reaching in his pocket and producing a piece of paper, he handed it to me. I refused to take it. Believing he might try and force his way in, I looked at Lassie to see if she was ready to defend the home.
Surprisingly, she sat by my side, the tip of her tail wagging.
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