
Excerpt from My Irish Dog
“Let’s get this done,” Spencer said to himself after he woke up the next morning. He made his way downstairs for breakfast. As he sat there eating his meal, his mind began formulating what he would say and how he would say it. The soon-to-be situation at the farmhouse made him nervous.
​
He walked out of the hotel and jumped into his car. In less than a minute, he was pulling into the driveway of the house. Just as yesterday, there was no activity outside. Spencer felt anxious, but he steeled himself to the front door and rang the bell. In short order, the door opened and the woman appeared. She didn’t step out onto the porch as she did the time before. Spencer was thankful it wasn’t the husband.
​
“Good morning,” Spencer greeted her. “Do you remember me?”
​
The woman stood in the doorway and did not respond immediately. She seemed a face of no recollection. "No, I can’t say I do,” the woman finally said.
​
Spencer felt a wave of dizziness overtake him.
​
“I was here a couple of days back and dropped off that little dog, which you kindly took from me,” Spencer said desperately. “Anyway, I have been worried about her and wanted to make certain that everything had turned out all right.”
​
“I’m sorry,” the woman said warily, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about or who you are. You must have made some kind of mistake. We don’t have a dog and never have. And I’ve certainly never seen you before.”
​
Spencer was incredulous, his smile falling slowly. He also felt a little defiant. “Excuse me, but I was here just two days ago. I told you I had found a stray dog that I didn’t know what to do with, and you agreed to take her from me. You said your husband would deal with the matter once he got home that night.”
​
“Listen, you have very obviously made a mistake,” the woman said. Spencer winced inside; the woman was now the defiant one. “I have a husband, but I have no idea what you are talking about. Are you sure it wasn’t some other house?”
​
For a moment, Spencer thought he might have gone crazy. He peered through the door, and though he could hear the sound of children inside, he could not see them. “Look, let’s ask your children,” Spencer said, feeling a sense of panic. “They were here that day and very excited with the new dog.”
​
“How do you know about my children?” the woman said. “You need to leave, right now, or I’m going to call someone!” She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
​
Spencer threw up his arms, his hands erect and his palms pushing at the air between them. “Okay, okay, I’m leaving. No need to call anyone. I’m sorry to have bothered you. I guess I did make a mistake.”
​
Not knowing what else to do or say, he began to turn around, but not before the lady slammed the door behind him. As he walked to the car, he felt her glare through the small frame of stained glass near the top of the door.
​
Believing it was better not to linger, he quickly drove out of the driveway, looking in his review mirror for any sign of the dog.
​
Once he had escaped the view of the house, he pulled over to the side of the road. “Well, that went pretty darn well,” he said sarcastically as he sat slouched in the car and tried collecting himself. “Seriously, what the hell!” He stirred suddenly. She still might call someone. Better I get the heck out of here.
Excerpt from Shadows of My Irish Dog
A stream of tears began to flow from Spencer’s eyes as the final vision fluttered out of his sight. He closed those eyes and bowed his head. This is all my fault, he thought and waited for the end.
Suddenly, he felt like he had been kicked from behind. Spencer’s eyes flew open, and his body began to move forward as the force slowly sucked him into the light and into the darkness. He tried to stop his movement. He couldn’t. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, as hard as he possibly could, but he couldn’t stop the force. His body scooted ahead, inch-by-inch, foot-by-foot. He was almost there. It would be over soon.
He wanted to speak. He wanted to say goodbye to Erica and to his other two children with whom the repairs hadn’t been fully made. He wanted to say goodbye to Buster. He couldn’t find the words.
He heard Erica’s voice.
“I love you, Dad,” she said.
“I love you, too, Erica,” he said. He knew she wasn’t there.
He knew her voice was just his imagination, just some trick from the ghost that had brought him here. He was alone, with only the pain of his lifetime for company. He started choosing his confessions, wishing he could have been a better man, a better husband, a better father. It was too late now. It was too late.
Make me a rock. Cover my eyes. There’s nothing more for them to see. His head bowed, and he forced his eyes shut. He let himself go.