the objects piled up outside of the front of it; old chairs, fishing poles, coolers, and the like. He assumed the door would be unlocked. After all, who would expect to find anything of any sort of value inside such a place. There was one item in that house that meant a whole lot to Horace though so Damon decided the trip inside was well worth it.
Damon turned the handle to the door and sure enough, the door swung wide open. He entered the living room area. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the couch and the coffee table was covered in empty cans and bottles. Damon looked next to the couch, but the spot that Max had called bed just an hour ago was now vacant. He continued to scan the small living area and called out to Horace’s loyal companion.
“Here, Max. Here, boy. I just want to spend a little time with you. That’s all.” Damon ventured into the kitchen which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Old frying pans and dishes covered the counter area and filled the sink. He could see old Horace coming back with his catch of the day and reusing the same plate and pan he had been using for the last few weeks. It’s amazing him and Max were still alive.
Max wasn’t visible in the kitchen area either. As Damon climbed the steps to the second story, he continued to call out to the dog. Max was obviously in hiding somewhere, avoiding the stranger who had entered the home. At the top of the steps, there were two rooms and a bathroom. After seeing the kitchen, Damon had no desire to step foot into the bathroom. He entered the first room which was full of boxes and bins of who knows what. There was no place for a dog to hide so Damon made his way into the other room. He supposed this was the master bedroom. The bed, however, was piled with newspapers. The guy must’ve kept every newspaper printed for the past fifty years. That explained how he would have had the article to tape onto his front door.
Damon peered under the bed. Sure enough, Max was lying down there, his tail between his legs. Trying to sound friendly, Damon called out to the old mutt. When that didn’t work, he decided to be a bit more forceful. Lying on his stomach on the floor, Damon put his arms around Max’s neck and dragged out from under the bed. The dog whimpered and yelped, but Damon scooped him up in his arms and carried him downstairs.
Chapter 21
Horace enjoyed his morning fishing trips. The beach was very peaceful early in the morning. As much as he enjoyed all of the people-watching over the years, he enjoyed that quiet serenity even more. As recent as a year ago, Max use to enjoy coming to the pier with him and sitting by his owner until a few fish had been caught. It was their time together away from the tourists and the house. Unfortunately, Max was no longer able to make the trip down to this end of the beach. Occasionally, Horace would fish closer to his home so that Max could lie down next to him. This morning, though, he felt like taking a bit of a longer walk. He was hoping to catch enough fish to last him a few days. His entire diet really consisted of what he was able to catch out here.
There were a few fishing boats and sail boats out on the water. While it had already gotten very hot, there was a nice breeze coming off of the water. From the end of the pier, Horace cast his line out into the ocean and patiently waited for a bite. Some mornings he would get something relatively quickly and other days, he was unable to get anything at all. This morning was one of those lucky mornings when the fish were biting. Horace reeled in his first fish, relatively small in size, but it would be enough for him and Max.
Once Horace had secured three decent catches, he decided to make his way back up the shore. Max was probably waiting for him and for breakfast. As he walked up the beach towards his home, he couldn’t help but wonder if Damon had gotten up and found the article on the front of his
Damon turned the handle to the door and sure enough, the door swung wide open. He entered the living room area. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the couch and the coffee table was covered in empty cans and bottles. Damon looked next to the couch, but the spot that Max had called bed just an hour ago was now vacant. He continued to scan the small living area and called out to Horace’s loyal companion.
“Here, Max. Here, boy. I just want to spend a little time with you. That’s all.” Damon ventured into the kitchen which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Old frying pans and dishes covered the counter area and filled the sink. He could see old Horace coming back with his catch of the day and reusing the same plate and pan he had been using for the last few weeks. It’s amazing him and Max were still alive.
Max wasn’t visible in the kitchen area either. As Damon climbed the steps to the second story, he continued to call out to the dog. Max was obviously in hiding somewhere, avoiding the stranger who had entered the home. At the top of the steps, there were two rooms and a bathroom. After seeing the kitchen, Damon had no desire to step foot into the bathroom. He entered the first room which was full of boxes and bins of who knows what. There was no place for a dog to hide so Damon made his way into the other room. He supposed this was the master bedroom. The bed, however, was piled with newspapers. The guy must’ve kept every newspaper printed for the past fifty years. That explained how he would have had the article to tape onto his front door.
Damon peered under the bed. Sure enough, Max was lying down there, his tail between his legs. Trying to sound friendly, Damon called out to the old mutt. When that didn’t work, he decided to be a bit more forceful. Lying on his stomach on the floor, Damon put his arms around Max’s neck and dragged out from under the bed. The dog whimpered and yelped, but Damon scooped him up in his arms and carried him downstairs.
Chapter 21
Horace enjoyed his morning fishing trips. The beach was very peaceful early in the morning. As much as he enjoyed all of the people-watching over the years, he enjoyed that quiet serenity even more. As recent as a year ago, Max use to enjoy coming to the pier with him and sitting by his owner until a few fish had been caught. It was their time together away from the tourists and the house. Unfortunately, Max was no longer able to make the trip down to this end of the beach. Occasionally, Horace would fish closer to his home so that Max could lie down next to him. This morning, though, he felt like taking a bit of a longer walk. He was hoping to catch enough fish to last him a few days. His entire diet really consisted of what he was able to catch out here.
There were a few fishing boats and sail boats out on the water. While it had already gotten very hot, there was a nice breeze coming off of the water. From the end of the pier, Horace cast his line out into the ocean and patiently waited for a bite. Some mornings he would get something relatively quickly and other days, he was unable to get anything at all. This morning was one of those lucky mornings when the fish were biting. Horace reeled in his first fish, relatively small in size, but it would be enough for him and Max.
Once Horace had secured three decent catches, he decided to make his way back up the shore. Max was probably waiting for him and for breakfast. As he walked up the beach towards his home, he couldn’t help but wonder if Damon had gotten up and found the article on the front of his
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