Police Officer Saves a Dying Puppy—But Now the Little Dog Keeps Sulking at Him

Chapter 6

One Thursday afternoon, that routine was interrupted.

Declan was preparing to finish his shift when he was sent to assist at a traffic accident several miles outside Wabasha. No one knew how long the scene would take to clear. He stopped at home briefly before heading back out.

Gus was resting on his blanket near the sofa when Declan entered. The puppy immediately stood, ears up, the daily welcome written all over his small body. Declan changed a few things in his gear, picked up what he needed, then crouched beside him.

“I should be back around eight,” he said.

Gus leaned forward and sniffed his sleeve. Declan rubbed the top of his head once before standing. Then came the familiar sound.

The keys jingled.

Gus’s ears lowered. He turned his face away.

“There it is,” Declan said with a small smile. “The morning grudge has moved to the afternoon.”

He left without thinking much about it. Gus remained beside the door.

By early evening, Declan realized he would not make it home when he expected. The accident scene had become more complicated, and traffic was being redirected around the area. He called Edna and asked if she could check on the puppy. She arrived shortly before eight.

Gus was sitting several feet from the front door.

Edna expected him to hurry toward her — he had already learned that her visits often involved food. Instead, he looked at her, then returned his attention to the door.

“Well,” she said softly, setting down her bag. “I see where I rank.”

She prepared his dinner and placed the bowl near his usual spot. Gus approached it, sniffed once, and walked away. He sat near the door again. She did not force him to eat. After a few minutes, she picked him up and carried him to his fleece blanket. Gus circled once, lowered himself, and rested his chin between his front paws.

For a while, the house was quiet. His eyes slowly closed.

Then headlights swept across the front window.

Gus woke instantly. Before Edna could move, the puppy was on his feet, short legs carrying him across the room as fast as they could manage. He reached the door and stared upward. A pickup truck rolled past the house. The light disappeared. Gus stayed where he was for several seconds, watching the empty window, and then his ears dropped slightly.

Edna watched him return to the blanket. This time, she noticed, he did not settle comfortably. He kept his head raised toward the hallway. Another half hour passed. Gus finally slept.

When a car door closed somewhere outside, he woke again. He struggled to his feet, hurried to the entrance, and waited. Nothing happened. The street went quiet.

Edna walked over and sat on the floor beside him. “Not yet,” she said softly.

Gus looked toward the door.

She gently touched his back. For a puppy so young, the evening had already been long. She guided him back to the blanket and encouraged him to drink a little water. He did, but he still ignored most of his dinner. Time moved slowly after that. Gus slept in short stretches, and every time a vehicle passed he woke, and every time he seemed to expect the same ending — footsteps on the porch, the lock turning, Declan walking in through the door. And every time, the house remained unchanged.

Edna began to understand that Gus was not simply listening for noises outside. He was listening for one particular person. She still did not try to explain why.

Near eleven, she sent Declan a message telling him Gus was fine but refusing most of his food. Declan replied that he would return as soon as possible.

By then, the puppy no longer had the energy to keep walking between his blanket and the door. Edna found him lying directly beside the entrance, his head resting on the floor. Even there, every time an engine passed, one ear lifted.

At last, close to midnight, headlights appeared in the driveway.

Gus’s head rose. This time, the lights did not continue down the street. An engine stopped. For the first time all evening, the puppy stood before Edna could touch him.

The key entered the lock. The door opened. Declan stepped inside, tired from the long shift, his first thought that Gus would rush toward him — the way he had done several times during the previous week, all awkward paws and wagging tail and more enthusiasm than balance.

Tonight there was none of that.

Gus stood several feet away. He stared at Declan.

Declan smiled. “Hey, little man. Sorry I’m late.”

Gus remained still.

Then, slowly, he turned around. He walked down the hallway without looking back, and Declan watched him disappear around the corner.

Edna was gathering her things. “I think you’re in trouble,” she said.

Declan gave a tired laugh. “That bad?”

“He waited for you most of the night.”

Declan glanced toward the hallway. The behavior seemed almost funny — a puppy barely old enough to understand where his food came from apparently had strong opinions about punctuality.

“Guess I missed curfew,” he said.

Edna smiled, but she did not answer immediately. Before leaving, she told him Gus had eaten very little, and suggested trying again once the house settled down. Declan thanked her and locked the door.

He found Gus beneath a small table at the end of the hallway, curled against the wall. Declan crouched a few feet away.

“You’re really going to hold this against me?”

Gus looked at him, then rested his head down on his paws again. Declan did not pull him out. He returned to the kitchen, refreshed the puppy’s water, and left a small amount of food nearby before going to bed.

For the first time since Gus had begun sleeping close to the sofa, the fleece blanket remained empty all night.