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Two weeks away on a business trip, and when I came home, my dog Buddy was gone.
My boyfriend and his mother swore up and down that the dog had run off.
I was frantic, asking around in the residents' group chat.
A neighbor wrote back:
【Didn't your dog die?】
【In heat like this, you don't turn the AC on for the dog, fine, but you shut it out on the balcony? No wonder it died in the heat.】
I stared at the screen, not trusting my own eyes.
Two months ago, Boris Matthews's mother had moved in with us.
Ever since, she'd had her hands in everything.
Said we threw money around, didn't know how to run a household.
Wouldn't let us run the AC all night, so we wouldn't "waste electricity."
Before the trip, I'd watched the weather climb hotter and hotter.
I'd even pulled Boris aside and told him Buddy couldn't take the heat, that he had to keep the dog in the air-conditioned room.
And now Buddy had been left to die in the heat, at their hands.
I wiped my eyes dry.
And canceled the wedding on the spot.
……
I added the neighbor and asked him to tell me what happened.
He sent me a voice message right away.
He said a few days ago it had been very hot.
My dog wouldn't stop barking, and the neighbors on either side had all complained.
He lived in the unit above us and could clearly hear the barking coming from the balcony.
"In heat like that, the dog's shut out on the balcony baking in the sun. How could it not bark?"
A few days later, the barking stopped.
Then, in the elevator, he saw someone coming out of our place carrying a big cardboard box.
He asked:
"Did the dog die of the heat? Where are you taking that?"
They didn't answer him.
"That man, twenties or thirties, that's your husband, right? And there was a woman, fifties or so."
"I mean, if you don't want a dog, fine, but you took one in, so why leave it to bake to death? That was a living thing too!"
His voice was harsh, and it left my heart shaking.
Boris's mother came out of the kitchen carrying a dish and set it down on the table with a clatter.
"Off on a business trip for half a month, and now that you're back you can't be bothered to do a lick of housework, just glued to that phone."
"What kind of woman keeps a home like that?"
At that, Boris walked over, brows drawn together.
"Put the phone down and go wash your hands, dinner's ready."
I didn't move. I looked up.
"Boris, I'll ask you one more time. Where's Buddy?"
He froze.
Carla Matthews was just coming out with the bowls, and when she heard me she set them down hard.
Folded her arms.
"Buddy this, Buddy that. You come home and all you care about is the dog. My son, a grown man standing right here, and I haven't heard you say one kind word to him."
Boris came to pull me by the arm, impatience barely held in check.
"Teresa Swanson, I already told you Buddy ran off, didn't I?"
"My mom worked all afternoon on this dinner, so stop with all the questions and go wash your hands and eat."
I lowered my head and tapped the voice message on my phone.
When it reached the neighbor's words:
"Why leave it to bake to death? That was a living thing too,"
Boris's face went white.
