Harold's Halloween(Marla) Harold was enjoying the walk with his Lucy when his nose detected a strange scent. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he had smelled it before, and he knew it wasn’t a good thing.

As they passed a neighbor’s house, he saw strange things in the yard. They were human in shape, but they had no skin, no substance, no life. Harold did not like the feeling they gave him. They passed another yard, and he saw a pumpkin on the steps. This, at least, had the smell of something natural. Pumpkins were fine. But something had harmed those pumpkins. They had been cut. Pieces were missing. This made no sense to Harold. A few more doors down, Harold saw three horrible cats in the yard. He remembered now…those cats had been there last year. He didn’t like them at all. They appeared to be angry, and he could see their sharp teeth, but they weren't the way cats were supposed to be. They had no life. Someone had taken the life and left behind fake cats that didn’t smell right. Harold wanted to go home. He whined to let his Lucy know.

“It’s okay, Harold. Remember, they’re just decorations.” she said.

Harold didn’t know what that was, but he knew from her tone that they were going to keep going. All the way around the block they went, and Harold now tried very hard not to look at the disturbing dec…he couldn’t remember what his Lucy had said. He sighed. He kept going. He’d walk with his Lucy as long as she wanted to walk.

He smelled home long before they reached the door, and Harold was wagging his tail with excitement by the time they reached the door. Getting home meant a treat. He knew he’d get one, because he’d been a very good boy during the entire walk.


A few days later, Harold watched as his Lucy opened a large bag and poured something (or a lot of somethings) into a bowl, but he didn’t get up from his comfortable spot. When his Lucy sat down, Harold got up, walked across the room, and settled himself at her feet. He was just about to doze off when he sensed that there were people outside. The doorbell rang. Harold sprang to his feet.

He followed his Lucy to the door.

“Trick-or-treat!” several voices sang out.

Harold immediately recognized the word “treat” and let out an excited yelp. Were these visitors bringing him treats? He wagged his tail in delight. But the little people in strange coverings did not give him treats. He watched in astonishment as his Lucy reached into the big bowl and gave the somethings away! He looked her. He didn’t care about the somethings, but he cared that he wasn’t getting a treat. Somebody had said the word. And that meant he was supposed to get a treat.

His Lucy closed the door. “Oh, Harold. These aren’t for you. It’s Halloween! These are for kids!”

He understood his name, but not the other words. It didn’t matter, though, because he got the message. There would be no treats for him. Harold hung his head and went back to lie down.

At least three more times, Harold lived it all over again. Harold kept hearing the word “treats,” kept getting hopeful, only to realize all over again that he wasn’t getting one. It was very disappointing. And it didn’t make sense. He was being a good boy.

Finally, Lucy went to the bedroom where her husband Ryan was reading.

“Ryan, the night is a bit much for Harold. Want to take him for a ride?”

Harold recognized the word “ride” and immediately felt a rush of joy. A ride! Yes! He communicated this with a happy bark.

Ryan chuckled. “Well, I suppose I can do that. Come on, boy, let’s go.”

Harold rushed to Ryan’s feet and wagged his tail excitedly as he watched his Ryan stand up. He ran part way to the door and ran back again, just to make sure his Ryan was still coming. Ryan put his shoes on, put the leash on Harold’s collar, and left just before the next group of kids came to the door.

As Ryan drove, he glanced at Harold, who was sitting happily in the passenger’s seat. “So, you just needed to get out, huh, buddy?”

Harold looked at him, his tongue hanging out, and gave him a doggy smile.

They drove for about fifteen minutes. Ryan pulled into a drive thru. Harold, knowing the scent, showed immediate interest. “Want a burger patty, Harold?”

Harold spun around once in the seat and sat back down. He smiled again at his Ryan.

“Okay! That’s a yes.” Ryan pulled up to something that Harold couldn’t see very well. Someone he couldn’t see said words. Ryan said words back. Then he pulled forward to a window. Finally, a friendly-looking person gave Ryan a bag. It was very hard for Harold not to bite the bag. It smelled amazing and he very much wanted to eat it. Ryan parked the car. Then he opened the bag. He took a patty out of the bun and held it up. It took every bit of Harold’s self-control not to snatch it. But he knew if he did, he would be a bad dog, and he didn’t want to be a bad dog. Ryan looked into Harold’s eyes and said, “Remember, don’t tell.”

Harold had heard these words every time his Ryan had given him the delicious food from this odd and wonderful place. He looked at his Ryan as earnestly as he could. He could “Don’t Tell.” He didn’t know what it meant, exactly, but he was pretty sure that he did it right. Every other time they’d been here, he had listened to his Ryan say “Don’t tell” and Harold had looked back at him earnestly and then they’d eaten and that was all.

Ryan laughed. “Here you go.” He gave it to Harold, and Harold ate it quickly.

Ryan unwrapped his own burger. Harold used his eyes to ask for a bite. Ryan said, “Oh, no. This one’s mine. You had yours.” Harold lay down. He knew that his Ryan wouldn’t give him more, but that was okay.

When the food was gone, they drove around again for a while. “Harold, you are a good dog,” Ryan said.

Harold looked at his Ryan and grinned. He loved his Ryan. He loved his Lucy.

“Ready to go home?”

Harold gave a happy bark. He vaguely remembered that something had bothered him earlier, but it was all okay now. He was going home with his Ryan. He would see his Lucy. And since he’d been a good dog, he would get a treat. Life was good.

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