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‘What the?’ Neville stepped back, flinching at the contact with something wet but warm on his hand. He glared at the woman in front of him at the supermarket, but she was busy moving items from her trolley onto the conveyor belt. He peered closer at the bag in the back of her trolley. A scruffy looking head poked out, and Neville stepped further back, nearly tripping over.

‘It touched me,’ he said, pointing a finger at the dog. Still, the dog’s owner seemed oblivious, chatting away to the cashier. The dog leaned forward and gave his finger another lick. Neville groaned and searched his pockets for some sort of wipe or handkerchief.

By the time he sorted himself out, the woman was on her way and the cashier was stockpiling his purchases. As he bundled them into his bags, he told her about the dog, but the young woman merely shrugged.

‘Plenty of people have them.’

‘Dogs?’

The girl looked at him closely, as if he was the problem. ‘Companion animals. It helps them to feel calm. Or something.’

As Neville put his bags into the trolley, he muttered about fur babies and how things had gotten out of hand after COVID-19. So many people seemed to have pets now. Only last week, one of the team at work had called in requesting bereavement leave after his cat had died. As he stowed his shopping, he caught a glimpse of the woman with the dog. She was lifting the dog out and placing it with care into the back seat of the car. He was tempted to go over and confront her, but what if it was some sort of companion animal?

Later, as he was ferrying the bags of groceries inside, he was intercepted by Amelia from next-door.

‘Neville, can I ask a favour?’

‘Sure, but I’m a bit busy right now.’ He nodded towards the bags in the boot of his car.

‘It’s just that one of the kids has fallen over at a friend’s house and I need to take them to the hospital to be checked over. I wondered if you’d keep an eye on Bailey.’

Neville nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll be there in a minute.’

By the time he finished unpacking the car and putting the perishables away, Amelia was about to drive off. She wound down the window. ‘He’s in the bathroom, washing the dog.’ And she was gone before he could ask any questions.

Neville headed up the hallway of Amelia’s house, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of giggles and splashing coming out of the bathroom. As he popped his head around the doorway, there was Bailey, doing his best to scrub the wriggling mass of limbs that was the family dog. Bailey turned and spotted Neville, giving him a big grin. ‘You’re just in time!’

Shaking his head, Neville picked up a towel and lifted the sopping dog out of the bath tub. ‘Fur babies indeed.’

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. Fur Baby: write about a pet whose owner treats them like a human child.

Photo: dog in a bathtub, Gunning NSW