#133: Down

Peter turned off the shower and relished the feeling of the heat on his skin. Tiny plumes were rising from his lobster shell. Mental health days are a blessing. The ability to tell work, nope, not today. I need a sleep in and then a long, hot shower.

Peter needed a quiet house to gather his thoughts.

He'd forgotten to turn the fan on, and rivulets of water were on the full-length mirror.

In the mist, a slight movement caught his eye. Tiggy was in her usual spot, in the corner curled up, forever faithful.

Tiggy's fur trembled unusually. He immediately this wasn't a dream where she was running across a field chasing a rabbit, this was involuntary.

Peter knelt down and his touch frightened her. He could feel her bones rattle as if an internal earthquake was shaking her foundations.

He left her to call the vet. As he was being told to bring her in straightaway, he felt the cool air chill his naked skin.

Peter placed her in the front seat, and it was as if fourteen years had suddenly vanished. Grace was giving him an ultimatum over whose sat in the front seat. She wanted the seat left vacant so that Tiggy knew her place in the pack.

It had tempted Peter to call her bluff and now, on the day he was about to put his faithful companion down, he regretted all those rides in the car, even those solo camping trips, when he didn't have her up front with him.

She was his longest relationship, and this was to be her final ride in the car.