The Doghouse on my Street

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The Dog House on My Street
By: Susan F. Chamberland


Daily I would see the rugged tan plastic dog house filled with hay in my neighbors’ side yard. It was not your typical dog house, but an igloo shaped design. Leading me think the owner a woman of a certain age was creative and forward thinking. The igloo was positioned on the end of her driveway by her main entrance beyond a short open natural planked wooden gate. On most days her black all American breed was in residence when the single dark haired woman was at work. On the weekends the dog with a docile faithful disposition would follow the small statured woman about the yard to assist her with her insatiable gardening endeavors. This weekend past was unseasonably warm. On Saturday morning around 10, a rusted tired looking blue Ford F150 was parked on my small neighborhood narrow street of 1800’s houses. A scruffy short shallow man got out of the truck to help the single woman owner of the house with outdoor spring clean up. Her home was consistently meticulous. But before he arrived, something was different. I noticed the dog house placed on the end of the black driveway at the edge of the black street.

This morning as I was driving to work there was an orange hand written paper sign taped to the opening of the igloo shaped dog house, the sign hung horizontally and said, “Free.”

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