The Dog Who Stares at Women

Story Sent in by John:

I had meant to take Charlotte out. What I didn't expect, when I went to her house to pick her up (she didn't have a car), was for her to invite me in. Not for what you're thinking though. She brought me upstairs to a window at the end of a hallway and pointed out of it at a line of trees between her yard and a neighbor's.

"Look," she said, "See him?"

It was dusk and pretty hard to see anything. As I strained to see what she was pointing at, I saw something in one of the trees. It looked like a black garbage bag, caught between two branches. In the light it was hard to tell.

"It's the neighbor dog," Charlotte said, "He always climbs that tree, sits there, and stares at me."

I laughed at her. "Dogs don't climb trees."

She said, "Go out and see for yourself."

Hoping to leave the house with her soon, I went downstairs and once outside, headed right to the tree. When I looked up, I still couldn't tell exactly what it was but whatever it was wasn't living. It was just hanging there and making a crinkling sound. I was pretty sure it was just a bag or some trash that had blown up there.

I went back inside and reported to Charlotte that it was nothing to worry about. She said, "It's that dog. I know it is."

When we were out, she seemed to loosen up a bit, but one time during dinner she grew quiet and I asked her what was wrong. "That dog," she explained, "I know he'll be there when I come back home."

I told her, "If it bothers you that much, I'll get it out of the tree for you. I swear it's just a bag."

When I dropped her back at her house, I went to the backyard to check it out. It was really dark so I borrowed a flashlight from her and saw that whatever it was was still there, right where it had been before.

It was high up, so she let me borrow two brooms and use packing tape to combine them into a pole. I went out to the tree and managed to dislodge it. Sure enough, it was just a torn black garbage bag.

When I returned inside and told her, she stared straight at me and said, "You're positive it wasn't the dog?"

"Yes. Dogs don't usually climb trees."

She shuddered and nodded toward the backyard. "That one does. It climbs the tree and looks at me. It looks at me..." she trailed off. I didn't want to be there anymore, so I wished her a goodnight and left.

It wasn't until I had made it home that I realized I had left the garbage bag in her backyard. I hoped that it wouldn't make her freak out if and when she discovered it there, thinking it was some dark, staring monster.