BOONE - Part 1 of the HMB Doggie Series

CHAPTER 14

The fourth anniversary of Eric’s death was last week. I spent the day holed away with Boone. We sat in Eric’s office and enjoyed a glass of his favorite brandy. Well, I enjoyed a glass. Boone just enjoyed sitting with me.

The pictures were the last physical thing Eric ever manipulated in this house. He’s shown up in other ways though. Even if he isn’t manipulating things around the house, I’ve had a few visits in my dreams, the most recent being him, me and John laying in bed together eating s’mores and talking about the stock market. No dream dictionary in the world could tell me what that was about. And Eric isn’t offering up any explanations, much to my disgruntlement.

On that note, John and I have built a strong relationship with each other. I think the catalyst was that night he exposed his demons to me. He’s still a grumpy bastard but there’s a tenderness towards me that has blossomed into, dare I say it, a friendship. He’s never shown up again at my house but I don’t think he’s needed to. I think he let some of his anger go that night.

The movie was a huge success and I’ve been celebrating that success by investing *yawn* and donating to multiple animal shelters all over the Bay Area. Boone and I even spend a few hours a month volunteering at a senior dog center in the city. It’s become a tradition that we meet up with John and have lunch on those visits. It’s pleasant.

My first ever dog book, I’s Good Dog, was published last year. It was my second highest grossing book. Apparently there’s something heartwarming about reading from a dogs perspective because John has been on my ass for the past year to write a sequel. I’m keeping him in the dark that I already started it because I want it to be a surprise. Kinda like how Dreams of You came about. He’ll either be overjoyed or pissed. I’ll take my chances.

I’m sitting in Eric’s office. I’ve found that over time I’ve been able to spend more and more time in here and not feel like someone is ripping my heart out. His office has now become our office because I find that it’s more inspiring then the sunroom. The sunroom is now my gym. I went full-boar and bought a treadmill for sprints, a family of kettlebells in various sizes and even a bench press. Eric would be so proud.

Boone is laying at my feet under the desk, snoring softly. He’s still the bell of the ball wherever we go. Only now, instead of this cute puppy or adolescent head-turner, he is this handsome man with huge paws, a long flowing tail and dark, soulful eyes that invite you in.

I lean back in my chair to stare down at him. The movement wakes him up and he looks at me, “Okay?”

“Everything’s fine, buddy. Just trying to see where this next book is going.” I’m stuck in my progress on this sequel and am needing some inspiration. The internet is not working.

“I’s inspiring! Make new dog in book ghost!”

“A ghost? Really? How would that work?”

His drunken ear twitches, “Ghost of friend? Mama? DOG?!”

“Huh,” I sit back and let that thought percolate. “So you think this dog should turn out to be the ghost of Suzanne’s deceased sister?”

“Who die in new book?”

“The sister dies, yes. ”

“Then sister! See? I’s inspiring!”

I contemplate his idea for some time, just sitting in Eric’s chair and staring into space. Finally after what feels like forever, I set my fingers on the keys and close my eyes. A picture forms and I start typing, slow at first but then building speed as the pictures and ideas become more clear. I don’t stop for two hours and when I do I look over at Boone who has migrated to Eric’s chair. “You are one brilliant dog, Boone.”

He smiles at me, “I’s good dog.”

Always my inspiration.