Writer:-Peta Shaw, Katharine Susannah Prichard Writers' Centre

Western Australia 

MIKE

01

About once a week, I buy myself a Coke and sit outside the café on the main street, watching life go by. It’s a pleasant ten-minute break, but equally an excuse to see Sandra. Ordering a drink is all I can work up the guts to say to her. Sometimes I manage a comment on the weather.
     One day I go outside with my Coke, to find a dog lying there.
     ‘Hey, dog,’ I say.
      He thumps his tail but doesn’t bother getting up. I presume his owner will be back soon.
     “Soon” comes and goes and it’s time for me to head home, and the dog just stands up and comes with me.
    ‘Shoo!’ I say. ‘Wait for your owner!’
    I’m worried Sandra will see me. Excruciating!
    His tail sinks, only the tip of it wagging apologetically. He looks from me to the café and back again. He’s got the message.
    I take a call from work. ‘Yes, Mike. I’ll get those figures emailed to you this afternoon. Just like I said earlier.’
    I get home and I’m putting the key in the door before I realise the dog’s still with me. He stands there, panting and grinning.
    ‘Persistent, aren’t ya?’ I say. ‘Just like bloody Mike.’
    When the dog hasn’t gone home by evening, I give him half my dinner.
    We could share every night, he says, with his eyes.
    I relent. Now that I’m his owner, I name him.
    Mike.
    Mike makes himself comfortable in my life. When I work at the hardware shop, I long to get back, just to experience his welcome-home excitement. We play and rough house, share dinner, watch TV, and later he keeps my feet warm in bed.
    Once a week we wander down to the café, and I get a Coke for me and a cheese sausage for him. We watch life go by. Sometimes Sandra comes out and gives him a dish of water and a pat. We have a nice routine.
    Until one day, when I get back home and realise he’s not with me.
   ‘Mike?’ I say. ‘Mi-ike!’
    I go back to the café but he’s not there. He’s not anywhere. I hadn’t wanted him at first, but now he’s gone I want him back like you wouldn’t believe.
    On my next visit, I tell Sandra how sad I am about it. She says she’s about due a break, and comes outside and sits with me. My spirits soar all day.
    That weekend, Sandra and I are walking to the local show together. A car cruises past, and a dog sticks its head out the window, sniffing the warm livestocky air, tongue lolling happily.
    ‘Wasn’t that Mike?’ Sandra says, after a moment.
    ‘I believe it was.’
    Now I understand. I’d been just one chapter in the grand adventure Mike called life.
    I reach for Sandra’s hand. Her fingers slip into mine.
    Good for you, buddy, I think, smiling to myself. Here’s to the next chapter.