It’s so true when they say that dog is a man’s best friend. The following story is yet another proof of that.
The morning they buried Henry Wallace, the weather was just terrible – dark and heavy clouds along with a freezing-cold wind blowing across the ancient graveyard just out of town. The earth was all still wet and soggy because it had rained heavily the night before. Henry had just turned sixty-seven. He was a rather private man, but very independent and had been living by himself in the woods on the outskirts of town since his wife died a few years earlier. He may not have been much of a talker, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for any of his neighbors if they needed him. And where there was Henry, there was his Golden Retriever Buddy. The two were inseparable, so when Henry suddenly passed away, the poor dog completely lost it.
Buddy didn’t ea anything for three days. He didn’t even have any water. All he did was stay outside of Henry’s room, lying absolutely motionless by the door like waiting for his best pal to come out from it. And when the family was about to leave without him on the day of the funeral, Buddy raced right back to their house creating such a tremendous ruckus that they finally took pity on him and let him ride along in their truck.
At the cemetery, Buddy stayed by the side of the coffin from the very beginning, perfectly calm and submissive without barking or making any sounds. But after placing the coffin down in the grave, he took a few steps forward and staring down at Henry for a while, went straight in and put his head on Henry’s chest. In the beginning, no one attempted to interrupt him since everyone was aware he was mourning his human. What’s more, even the priest paused for a while, allowing the dog a few seconds before starting the funeral speech.
That was the point when Buddy finally lost it. His whole body froze, his ears flat back on his head, and he locked his eyes on the priest with this terrifying, razor-sharp intensity. It started with a low, snarling growl, coming from deep within him. The priest tried to keep it cool, smiling a bit and making a remark to the crowd about how animals could sense depression, but the minute he moved towards the coffin, Buddy completely exploded. It wasn’t like he was barking out of fear; it was as though he was trying to get on the priest’s way.
The place immediately turned into utter chaos, where people started yelling, families rushed ahead to seize Buddy’s collar, while the priest fell backward onto the wet grass, looking entirely pale. However, amid all this confusion, something accidentally fell from the priest’s broad sleeves and landed on the muddy ground with a dull thump.
It was a tiny silver locket. Henry’s sister stopped dead in her tracks once she caught sight of it, since Henry used to wear it daily through decades without taking it off for anyone.
There was total silence, a silence which no longer had anything to do with grief at all. One of Henry’s nephews carefully took it out with trembling hands and opened it. Inside it, lying snugly right behind the old picture of his dead wife, was a small scrap of paper folded into creases. As he opened it, he recognized Henry’s handwriting.
The note said that he had noticed large sums of money being stolen from his house, blamed the priest for it, and warned his family that if anything bad suddenly happened to him, they absolutely could not let it go.
Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed. There were dozens of eyes that gradually locked onto the priest. In the beginning, he tried to desperately reason himself out of everything, stammering that the necklace was a personal gift that Henry gave him, and that the dog only reacted out of distress during the mourning of the funeral ceremony. However, a couple of close neighbors started speaking from the crowd.
They had noticed a peculiar black car hovering near Henry’s premises late into the night a couple of nights back. Then, one of them remembered Buddy going wild inside the house at that very particular moment. At this point, the priest fell silent with his face blank and the police were immediately called.
As all of them gathered around waiting for the police to arrive, Buddy finally calmed down. After a while, he climbed into the coffin once again and lay down next to Henry, quiet and tranquil, like he knew that now it was time to say that final goodbye.
During their investigation of the house in the days to come, the police discovered that Henry’s death was far from a peaceful one. They found clear signs that the house had been disturbed, documents were missing, and a lockbox had been pried open. The priest had visited often in the weeks leading up to the death under the excuse of comfort and prayer, meaning he knew the house and he knew the timing perfectly. What he hadn’t accounted for was the dog, because Buddy hadn’t forgotten a single thing, and in the end, he was the only one who didn’t need a shred of proof to know something was wrong.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
