Sometimes I Kill Myself Part 4

Buster finally released me, but only so I could take him outside.

I never bother with putting a leash on him. Buster is so closely bonded to me there has never been any chance he would run away from me, even to chase a squirrel. As grey and misty as it the day is he will stay especially near to me.

When we arrive at the park, Buster spots a Jack Russell terrier he has tried to make friends with several times. The terrier wants nothing to do with my dog, so Buster curbs his enthusiasm and acts nonchalant. This morning, the terrier spouted off a series of short little barks as though he wanted Buster’s attention. Maybe there’s a chance for Buster and him to be friends after all. Buster totally ignores him and trots off to explore some underbrush. I wanted to get a look at the dog’s owner. I thought if we acted friendly, our dogs would follow suit. The foggy mist of the morning blocked my view. Man and dog seem to only be around on gloomy days like this. They went off on their own walk while I tried to determine where Buster had gone.

Suddenly there was a cry, no a wail, a howl. “Buster?” I yelled. “Where are you?” I had never heard Buster sound so mournful before. I was afraid he had gotten hurt somehow.

When I found him, he was resting his head on the waist of a man lying on the ground. “Buster! What’s the matter, boy?”

Buster raised his head and ran to me. He flung his paws around my waist to hug me. He was whimpering his relief that I was there. I hugged him back and quietly reassured him everything was all right. After a few minutes, Buster let go of me and walked back over to the body on the ground. He tapped the shoulder trying to wake the man. Nothing happened. Buster looked to me to do something.

“C’mon, Buster. Let’s go home and call the police.”

Buster lay down next to the man. I could go call the police. He would guard the body. I said okay. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere else.”

Buster laid his head on the small of the man’s back. I knew he would still be there when I returned.

When I arrived home, I called the emergency line. I told the dispatcher about the body. He said the police would be there shortly with an ambulance. “An ambulance won’t be necessary,” I replied.

“The medical examiner would need to transport the body for identification and autopsy,sir.”

“Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that. The man is obviously dead. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”

“Please make sure no one disturbs the area.”

“My dog stayed with the body to guard it. No one will get near there.”

“Is your dog trained for rescue?”

“He might have been. I adopted him from a shelter. I better get back over there or the police won’t be able to do their job.”

I arrived just as the police and the ambulance team parked their vehicles. When Buster saw help had arrived he came to me. Something was off. Boxers always have a sort of melancholy look, but he was visibly disturbed by all this. He apparently didn’t want to let the dead man out of his sight. All in all strange behavior considering we didn’t know the man.

Buster and I were politely thanked and sent on our way. “We’ll take it from here, sir,” said a man who identified himself as Detective Sintes. “If you wouldn’t mind giving this officer your contact information, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. No problem.” I turned to the officer who had pen and pad on the ready. “My name is Masson Meursault.”

“Wait a minute! I thought I recognized you. We’ve met before.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible, Detective. I haven’t had any contact with the police before, not even for a traffic ticket.”

“No, your name is familiar to me. We have met before. Officer, give Mr. Meursault and Buster here a ride home.”

“How do you know my dog’s name?”

“I heard you call him a few minutes ago.”

“I didn’t call him. He came to me on his own.”

“Maybe that’s how I know you. Through your dog, I mean. At any rate, the officer will give you both a ride. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

The detective rejoined the forensics team. Buster and I got into the squad car to be driven home. As I pulled the car door closed lightning struck the very spot were the detective and I had been talking. Buster climbed onto my lap and nuzzled his face under my arm. What a strange series of events! First Buster finds a dead body, then the police detective thinks he knows me, definitely knows the name of my dog and then we are nearly struck by lightning as we leave the park. The Universe was trying to tell me something, but what?