I loaded the groceries from the trunk of my car into my arms and headed for my back door. Charlie always greets me when I come home and the racket he makes propels me to hurry and unlock the door. This time, however, I didn't hear him bark.
I walked in and set the bags of food onto the kitchen table.
"Charlie, where are you?" I called. Stepping into the living room, I expected to find him in his bedding by the couch, but he wasn't there.
That's when I noticed some of the boxed games had been tipped, causing the boards, the pieces, and the dice to scatter about the floor. There were four dice all turned face up to one dot each.
"Who had taken my dog?" I asked myself. That's when I heard something, a thump, then a door opening. I grabbed the nearest thing to protect myself. I had a flashlight. The intruder must be still in the house," I feared. The shadow moved across the lighted wall as I raised my flashlight to hit whomever it was. Charlie peered around the corner looking downcast. It was him all this time. I'm glad no one took him. He was feeling ashamed.