Soil on The Skin

‘Hey!’ I shouted firmly. I can’t see her but the patter of her feet stop immediately. I hear her start to take one more tentative step.

‘Don’t you dare!’

The foot retreats.

This back-and-forth with Maddie is the most excitement we get in this house these days. That sounds more depressing than it really is. You get used to it eventually, the only sounds in the house being your own plus maybe some tired paws. It has become more of a comforting silence than an empty one, but it did take some time to see it that way. 

I finish stirring the mess of burnt onions and turn the heat down. Of course, this step was not a necessity, as if the onions could get any worse. Wiping the oil off my hands I turn and see Maddie standing rigid in a stance of guilt and defeat, her tail no longer thumping against the cabinet but deflated on the floor. Her body faces the goal - the doorway, her head is turned to look at her opponent - me, and in her mouth - the prize. Her teeth are locked around my spatula and, although she’s been caught, the fight’s not over yet.

‘Come on Maddie I need that.’ I pry her jaw open and rescue the spatula. Teeth marks now decorate the handle, adding character to the utensil. ‘Why do you even want this?’

Naively, I turn to wash the spatula. A lesson to all - never turn your back on a dog when they are in such a devious mood. A wet nose charges at my hand. A sniff and a scamper across the hardwood floor and that’s it. Both spatula and dog are gone before I can turn around.

To some, this may seem impressively swift, but it’s obvious to me now that Maddie is getting older. Before, she would never get caught in the first place. Max and I used to argue for hours about the other taking something without permission and later we’d find it nestled in Maddie’s bed. Nowadays, although the objective still remains, the execution is not to the same standard I must say. Following her out into the back garden, I realise that I also cannot chase after Maddie the same way I used to. It’s somehow quite reassuring that we are both reaching this stage of our lives together. 

Flashes of brown can be made out between the bushes at the back of the garden, the light hitting her fur as she moves furiously. She’s digging. Of course, to her, the safest place for such treasure must be underground, so the closer I get to her chosen spot the faster her paws move. Finally, I step over the bushes, push her aside, and there in front of me is, surprise surprise, a hole.

‘Hmmph’, is Maddie’s chosen noise of pride.

She sits against the bush with her head held high, completely unbothered by the twigs now prodding at her side. I begin my lecture.

‘Just because you are getting older doesn’t mean I’m gonna go soft on you. You cannot just-’

Amid the earth and stones that were left in this hole was something else that caught my attention. Some kind of fabric seemed to be poking up from the bottom of Maddie’s creation. Although only a small section was visible, you could just about tell that it used to be a dark red colour. Well, before it was smothered by soil, at least. Discipline abandoned, I would like to say I then got some gardening gloves to assist my investigation, but curiosity won this time and I stuck my hand in there.

It’s hard to discern whether Maddie’s jumping and commotion is due to excitement or a stern protest at my invasion into a space she sees as belonging to her. But the soiled cloth is quickly pulled out and now dangling from my hand is a scarf. My scarf! Light shines through the thin material and the warm shades come to life. I look at Maddie in complete disbelief. I distinctly remember wearing this only last week, so this is evidently a recent crime. But something about the look on her face made me realise this was not her only transgression.

I think I’m going to need a shovel.

——

Half an hour later, Maddie is scampering all over the garden, not sure what to do with herself, because around me is a semicircle of about 20-25 random unearthed objects. We had T-shirts, kitchen towels, lots of socks, and every dog’s favourite chew toy - the shoe. The ones closest to me are new additions to her pile, and further out are items that have clearly not seen sunlight in at least 6 months, maybe more. This is a result of me underestimating how large this hoarding problem really is. Every time a pillow cover or an item of clothing was found, I was certain it would be the last, especially considering how long ago they must have been buried. But no, the semi-circle just kept on growing.

Till the last find that put a sudden stop to the whole operation.

Max’s cap.

I held it in front of me, the soil rubbing against my fingers. Once it’s on you, that’s it, you feel it under your nails, on your face, and even in your hair. Till now, the light but constant irritation had gone unnoticed. But in an instant, this sensation became completely overwhelming. It is impossible to escape the wrath of soil. Dropping the cap I ran back into the house, stumbling over the new finds that now meant nothing to me.

As my mind did loops trying to decipher this new information, my body was forced to take over. One foot in front of the other I found myself with keys in my hand opening my car door. But sitting in the driver’s seat with a tenacious grip on the wheel, I had nowhere I wanted to go. Emotions I couldn’t put my finger on began rising to the surface. The only thing I could comprehend was that these emotions were somehow towards Maddie. I felt betrayed by her. By a dog.

It’s weird how the brain does that. Grief simply attaches itself to an inanimate object. You don’t get to choose which though, and in this case, it chose the cap. So, a few days after hearing the news, I spent hours manically searching the house for Max’s goddamn hat. No other hat would suffice, it had to be the boring grey one, the one he wore all the time. Even when the top of the cap was soaked through from a layer of snow it would never dissuade him from wearing it again on another snowy morning. The irony of it all doesn’t go amiss. While he was alive I did anything in my power to get him to wear something else, I bought him new ones every Christmas and even tried to hide it one time (that didn’t go down well). But now that he was gone, I wanted… no it was more than that, I needed that hat for some reason. For two years I had been searching. I had finally accepted that he must have been wearing it the day of the crash and it simply never got returned to me. But no, somehow Maddie had gotten hold of it and I felt like calling her selfish for taking it away from me.

An obnoxious clicking noise rudely pulled me from my thoughts and drew my attention to the door that was wide open, noisily swinging on its hinges in the wind. If I left the front door open, the back must also have been left ajar in my recklessness. Still on edge, I collected myself and walked back into the house.

Complete quiet.

Despite Maddie’s age, she would never be too tired to follow me as I moved from room to room. After this many years, she knows that nothing interesting is awaiting her in the living room, but that doesn’t stop her from staying by my side. But now? Nothing. I cautiously walk back to the kitchen. Nerves kick in like I’m returning to a crime scene and I peer through the open door out into the garden. The previously hysterical creature is lying near the hole, her head on the cap in question.

Once again enraged I charge up to her, but when I reach her I take a moment to look at the objects one more time. The newer additions to the collection threw me off the commonality. Individually they seemed like random finds that Maddie simply had the opportunity to steal. But I was wrong. The cushion cover, which must have been taken from the laundry pile one day, was always on the armchair that was, of course, Max’s unofficial seat. The great number of socks, none of mine were worthy of a precious burial, only his. Even my gloves were something Max used to steal from me when it got too cold on the walk home. To Maddie, these objects were his.

Seeing her lying there completely uninterested in my presence, I dropped the cap back into the hole and picked up the shovel.

Maddie wanted the cap for the same reasons I did.