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Rhonda nodded. "Every time he came to the door to pick me up, he would say, 'Hey Snookums' and hand me some flowers. He was very sweet."

"Ohh that's right! I remember now. You hated being called that."

Henry's ears drooped. She hated being called Snookums? But she never said anything! It seemed she didn't tell him a lot of things. He began to wonder if their relationship had been based on anything real at all. How exactly had their relationship ended?

"I didn't have the heart to tell him," Rhonda explained. "He was such a nice man. So polite. So different from the cave men I usually went out with."

"True. But..." Abby prompted.

"But I wasn't attracted to him. I gave it some time, to see if something would grow between us. Because he's the kind of guy I should be with, you know?"

"A non-scumbag."

Rhonda made a face. "Right. But it never did. I just found him to be a very endearing friend."

"He didn't feel the same way though."

Rhonda shook her head. "When I finally decided to end it, I told him I wanted to remain friends. He really was a very sweet guy."

"How did he take it?"

"Not well. He cried."

"He cried?"

Rhonda nodded. "He cried and stormed off on his scooter. I was still holding his helmet in my hands."

"Did you keep in touch?"

Rhonda's face darkened, and for a while she didn't speak. "He died."

"He died?"

"That day. I was told he was hit by a delivery truck in an intersection. Bert didn't stop at the stop sign."

Henry was entranced by the story and wasn't sure what to do when the two women looked at him. It sounded right. He recalled the wind in his face when he used to ride through the city on his scooter. He remembered her arms around his waist. The flowers, the restaurants, the pecks on the cheek. He had adored her, but she didn't feel the same. He remembered the anguish. The rending of his heart into little pieces. The tears. The very unmanly tears.

Henry's thoughts swirled.

The truck...

A flash flood overpowered Henry's mind and he whimpered.

His human life. Gone.

His whole body tensed. What happened to his human body? Why was he running around in this furry one? What was he supposed to do now? Even if he was able to convince them of who he used to be, what then? He couldn't exactly resume his role as boyfriend. Was he supposed to just roll over and accept this new canine life? It wasn't right.

He whined in distress. The chaotic tornado in his mind threatened to carry his sanity away. It was too much. He whined louder, backing away from the two women.

"What's wrong with him?" Rhonda asked, brows lifting at this sudden shift in Henry's behavior.

"I don't know," said Abby, frowning.

He ignored them. He had to get out of there. He ran to the front door, which was closed, then ran through the kitchen and into the dining room. There he saw an open window. It had a screen in place, but he didn't care. He needed to escape the anguish and confusion. He ran full speed, jumped, and dove through. He ducked his head as he hit the screen, but it still scraped his nose painfully. The screen gave way and fell with him onto the floor.

He laid there, momentarily dazed. He heard shouts from inside the apartment and quickly sprang to his feet. Should he go back inside? They meant well, but seemed clueless. Where would he go? He didn't exactly have an exit strategy. He looked back at the window and saw them clambering closer.

He couldn't deal with them right now. This was too much. His thoughts were too jumbled.

He sprinted down the sidewalk and into the dark street. Into oblivion.


Where'd he go? How about a vote for him?

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