by Chris McGinty
The neighbour’s dog had been a nuisance. He dug up the garden, sometimes ruining the plants. He roamed the neighbourhood scaring the children, but he never bit anybody. Fluffy, his name was Fluffy, never bit anyone. He would bark throughout the night, maybe not keeping everyone awake, but he kept Frank awake. Not to mention all the times Frank stepped into Fluffy’s poop.
But you know what? That poop probably acted as fertilizer for the yard and the same garden that damn dog would dig up. And now that Fluffy was dead, he never saw the children of the neighbourhood crossing the street in fear, but Frank was also having trouble sleeping without that incessant barking. That bark had kept him up so many nights, but it was hard now to sleep without it.
Fluffy was everything that was wrong with your neighbour having a dog they never took the time to train and was the source of so much day-to-day turmoil. The neighbourhood felt empty now without that chaotic presence looming constantly. Frank could honestly say that he missed that damn dog like a best friend. Surely, Fluffy wasn’t Frank’s best friend, but Frank was now realizing that Fluffy was one of Frank’s only friends. Frank decided that no matter how tough life got going forward, he would keep Fluffy deep in his thoughts, and he would never resort to murder again.