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Niall felt sorry for Shona. She was Ruben’s Dutch Shepherd and she was afraid to move unless he said so. Because he’d trained her that way.
She was Ruben’s through and through, refusing to listen to anyone else’s commands. With him being away at sea for months on end, she lived a half life, holding him in her heart with pathetic devotion. Her big love-sick eyes depressed the fuck out of Niall.
She watched him from her bed while he mopped the kitchen floor, a heavy sad lump of a dog. Her pining irritated him.
“Oh come on. He’s not died.”
Speak of the devil. His phone buzzed with a text from Ruben: “take Shona for a walk when your done. she gets bored when she stays in.”
“I’m not your fucking dog walker,” Niall typed out and deleted his reply. He left Ruben’s text unanswered, resolving to pretend he hadn’t seen it until he got home. He gathered up his things to leave, double checking that everything was in its right place. But when he put his hand on the door, he felt hesitation form in his chest like broken glass.
Defying Ruben was a rush until the worry set in. Would he find out? How would he find out? What would his reaction be? The constant pre-scripted guessing was exhausting.
Niall looked back to Shona and she gave no reaction. He wasn’t Ruben, so what was the point? He took up her lead and said encouragingly “D’you wanna go for a walk?”
She gave a deflated sigh and stayed put.
“C’mon,” he tried again, hearing the false cheer in his voice and cringing “D’you wanna go for a walk? Ruben’ll kill me if you don’t.”
At the sound of her master’s name she leapt up, tapping her nails on the tiles excitedly. Niall leant down to clip the lead on and cried out “Jesus fuck!”
The dog bed was soaked in blood, moving through red to brown and shining like wax in the light. Niall phoned Ruben right away, checking Shona over for wounds as it rang out. His panic made him blind. This whole time she might have been dying, and he thought she was just a wee sook.
The call went to voicemail. Niall didn’t fancy saying “your dog lost a pint of blood and I didn’t notice” on a recording that could be played back to him, so he phoned Mona.
She picked up after two rings “You alright?”
“No. Shona’s bleeding. I think something’s really wrong.”
All the while, she shifted from paw to paw, dragging her limp lead behind her and looking up expectantly.
“Ach, it’s just her heat,” Mona said dismissively “Did Ruben not tell you?”
“No, he didn’t,” of course he didn’t “It’s everywhere, what do I do?”
“Just chuck her bedding in the wash,” she already sounded distracted “Don’t worry about the rest, she’ll clean herself up.”
Niall grimaced “Why didn’t you get her fixed?”
“Ruben wants her “intact.” 'Says it’s cruel to deny her her instincts.”
“’Course he did.”
“Is that it, Niall? ‘Cause I’ve got to go.”
“No, wait–”
She was gone, and the dog was waiting for a walk. Knowing she was in heat made him reluctant to take her anywhere public. He could see it in her, now that he knew – greasy, sad, and desperate for a fuck. He remembered it well, but he doubted a spiritual figure could fix her the same way.
Niall took her out to the garden with a ball as a compromise. But as soon as she realised Ruben wasn’t there, her depression sank in again.
She didn’t want to play. When Niall threw the ball she would chase it, catch it, and throw herself down on the ground, crawling shamefully on her haunches through the grass to show she wasn’t willing, and expected to be punished for it. He quickly gave up. They mirrored each other’s mood.
Niall’s phone buzzed again: “Can’t pick up rn. & don’t just run her round the garden you lazy bastard. take her for a proper walk. I’ll know if you don’t.”
Niall looked stupidly up into the trees, expecting to see Ruben there in painted camouflage, watching him.
Ruben’s infertility was ever-present in Niall’s mind. He wondered if Ruben was jealous of Shona’s innate ability to reproduce; if her being miserable about it pissed him off; if he would force her to have puppies out of spite.
Spite was definitely part of it. He knew that Ruben would get a kick out of him being chased down the street by randy dogs. He knew Ruben would blame him for not protecting Shona’s honour when the inevitable happened.
He could see it now: Shona lumbering around the house, stretched large with pups, and Ruben saying mournfully “Look what that twat’s done to my dog.” Saying in polite company, without context “You know Niall got my dog pregnant.” Letting the statement hang so that its queasiness could be felt in full; planting the image of Niall with his pants down, hunched over a dog, in the minds of everyone there – tainting his name forever. Planting the image in Niall’s mind, knowing it was there, knowing they were sharing it. Ruben holding his gaze as if to say “We’re the same, you and me. I’m only as sick as you are.”
It would be the gift that kept on giving. As each pup was birthed in to the world, blind and slimy and writhing, Ruben would look him dead in the eye, impressing a thought on his mind “That’s your fault. That one, too. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
It was an elaborate trap. Niall’s guts washed over with something like a cold sweat.
All this went through Niall’s head without Ruben saying a word. He didn’t need to. He’d only asked Niall to walk his dog, knowing that he would tie himself up in knots all on his own.
But he wasn’t fucking doing it. Someone else could get his dog pregnant. He’d rather defy Ruben than be snared by him. Niall called Shona in to the house where no one could get at her, watching dusk settle through the window.
Shona sat on the kitchen floor and licked her swollen vulva clean. Blood clots lolled on her tongue as she stretched them out like spun sugar. Niall looked away and gripped the sink in disgust. Her wet sloppy sounds made him irrationally angry. It was like having Ruben and Mona in the room. He’d have caved her head in to make her stop.
Fed up, he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. He posted the spare keys back through the letterbox with a rattle and then a crash. Shona yipped and bolted through the house – he’d forgotten to crate her. Niall lay his palms and forehead against the locked door. It was useless. The whole situation demeaned him.
As he drove to Ava’s, Niall pictured Ruben coming home to a free range dog. She would greet him enthusiastically, her tail wagging, eyes alight. Her whole body telling him “you are my world.” The only love that would satisfy him.
Niall pictured her licking Ruben’s face, his smiling teeth, with that same bloody tongue.