Screaming Casually into the Void: Lucky

Episode 4: I'm living the better multiverse...

Welcome to another episode of my “Screaming Casually into the Void” series, where I ramble and mumble and maybe connect with others willing to read this. Here I’ll talk about human things such as emotions, ideologies, what I ate for breakfast, etcetera. Tangible things that may or may not be relatable to everyone, but are definitely a part of me.

So nestle in, grab some tea or coffee, and welcome to my corner of the void.

Time to continue the saga no one has asked for: the “Close Calls” or “the Almosts.” I still haven’t committed to a name. It doesn’t matter. This is the last one. And I think I’ll change it up this time. Tell it out of order for dramatic effect.

Let’s start with the night before I moved to college my freshman year circa August 2015.

I was doing what any normal soon-to-be college student was doing… Packing up my car in the middle of the night by myself.

I was loading up the essentials. Blankets, pillows, posters, anything you need to make a twelve-by-twelve dorm room you share with a stranger feel like home.

It was on my third or fourth trip to my car when the police showed up across the street.

And all I thought was: Hmmm. Weird.

I remember pausing for a second. Looking over. Then I went back inside. Grabbed another box. Came back out. They were still there. Flashing lights. Doors open. People moving around. And I just… kept packing my car.

I never felt like I was in danger. I didn’t hear anything. Didn’t see anything. No intuition tingles or whatever you want to call them… Just another night.

Until it wasn’t.

And I was still carrying boxes back and forth.

I found out later there was a murder that night in the house across the street. And I had no idea.

Sometimes I think about how easily that could’ve gone differently. If I hadn’t gone back inside when I did… maybe I see something. Maybe I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe my luck runs out.

Or maybe that moment becomes more than an “Almost”…

My next memory… I can’t remember exactly when it was. It was back when I only had three dogs—somewhere between 2017 and 2019.

Two Great Pyrenees mixes and a border collie. Lily, Jewel, and Storm. So… pretty big dogs.

I imagine it was quite the sight—five foot five me being dragged around by two hundred and eighty pounds of dog. They definitely walked me.

It was summer. I remember because I was wearing jean shorts and a cropped tank. Fourteen feet pitter-pattered on the pavement as we took our usual loop around one of the nearby parks. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The sky was clear. Laughter from the playground echoed off the houses. Very typical for a small Iowa town.

At some point, Lily had stopped, sniffing something invisible, obviously more important than continuing the walk. The other two followed suit, because of course they did.

So I stood there for a second. Waiting. Being ignored. And then we kept moving.

Then finally we were on our final stretch. One last straightaway down a one-way street, and we’d be home.

That’s when things got… weird.

Halfway down the street, a car came toward us and started to slow as it got closer. I remember thinking it was a little odd it didn’t just pass, but I brushed it off… until it didn’t keep going. It just kept creeping forward and then stopped right next to us.

A red Mustang.

“Hey, you live around here?” the driver asked. He wasn’t alone. Another man sat in the passenger’s seat.

I hesitated for half a second.

“Yeah… I live close.”

I squinted, trying to see inside, but the car was dark. I couldn’t make out his face.

“Are you a dog walker?”

I pulled my dogs a little closer.

“Oh. No. These are my dogs. Just out for a walk.”

I tried to keep moving, but he kept talking.

“Well, hey! I live around here too. Have you seen the house on Summer Street with the Great Dane?”

I shook my head. I’ve walked that street so many times. I’d never seen a Great Dane.

“Ah, well, I work all the time so I feel bad he doesn’t get out much. Would you want to walk my dog?”

I hesitated. I wanted to keep walking. But I didn’t want to be rude. And I didn’t want to give this stranger a reason to do anything else.

“Hang on a minute.”

He reached for a Post-it and wrote something down.

That felt… off.

“Here’s my number. Call me if you’re interested.”

He handed it to his passenger, who handed it to me.

I took it. I didn’t really know what else to do.

I just gave him a nervous smile and kept walking.

And I kept walking. And walking. And walking.

I passed my house. Turned down another street.

Because he was still there. Lingering in the road.

Watching.

He only moved once another car pulled up behind him.

I didn’t stop walking for a while after that. I didn’t look back. I just… kept going. And I remember thinking, that was weird. But not in a way that fully registered. Not in a way that made me stop and go, that wasn’t okay. Just… weird.

It wasn’t until later that it really sank in. How long he stayed there. How easily that could’ve gone differently. If I didn’t have my dogs with me… I don’t think I would’ve just walked away.

I think about that more than I’d like to.

Because it wasn’t just a strange interaction. It was one of those moments that sits right on the edge of something worse.

But that’s not the one that sticks with me the most.

It’s time for the last story.

This memory centers around one dog specifically. Don’t worry she doesn’t die here.

Her name was Jewel.

Imagine a one hundred and twenty pound golden retriever mix with a little “jewel” of white on its forehead. That was my Jewby-dooby-doo.

She was the heart and soul of our pack. Never a troublemaker and would always keep the peace if things went awry. Always loyal to me and her sisters. Always greeted visitors enthusiastically.

Just the type of dog that made you smile. A heart of gold.

And just like the last story, it was summer again.

All three of them, Lily, Storm, and Jewel, were outside on their tie-outs on the front porch. This was before we had put up a fence.

They had been out for a while, so it was time to bring them back in. Lily and Storm came to the door right away. Jewel didn’t.

She had wrapped herself around the baby willow tree. Again.

Ohhh, my silly Jewby.

I went out and guided her around the tree, muttering to her like I always did.

That’s when a man walked by.

“Does he get stuck like that a lot?”

I looked up, a little caught off guard.

“Oh yeah,” I smiled politely. “She does.”

I started moving back toward the house, dogs in tow.

But he didn’t keep walking.

He stepped closer. Onto my hill.

“You have some cute dogs.”

I hesitated for a second.

“Yeah… thanks,” I said over the bark of my dogs.

I turned toward the house, trying to gather them up.

I grabbed Storm and dragged her up the steps. She had a history of nipping. And I didn’t want this to be the moment it became a problem. I didn’t want to lose her over something like that.

And just as I got her inside and turned to try to grab the other two…

The man stepped onto my porch.

I froze. I remember thinking that he moved impossibly fast to get up here.

Then he stepped closer, and I backed up without thinking until I was backed into the corner of my own porch. Jewel was in front of me. Lily right behind.

I was stuck.

“Are they friendly?” he asked, as he reached for Jewel.

I remember watching his hand more than anything. The way it just… kept coming closer.

But she growled low and deep. And that wasn’t like her. I’d never seen her do that before.

He pulled his hand back.

“I guess not so friendly, is he?”

I just stood there. I didn’t know what to do.

He reached for her again. Slower this time. But Jewel didn’t back down. She held her ground, that same low growl rumbling in her chest.

He stopped. Just hovered there for a second. Then he pulled his hand back.

He stood there for a second. Just watching her.

Jewel didn’t move. That low growl didn’t let up.

Neither of them budged.

And then, finally, he stepped back… turned… and left.

That was the first and last time I ever saw her act that way. She knew something I didn’t.

And I think about that a lot. How quickly that moment shifted. How I went from just bringing my dogs inside… to standing there, not knowing what to do.

But she did.

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t second guess it. She just… knew. And she stood there between me and him like it was nothing. Like it was her job.

That was my Jewby-dooby-doo.

My big, sweet, gentle girl… until she wasn’t. And I’m so thankful for that version of her. Because if she hadn’t been there… I don’t think that moment ends the same way. I think it becomes something else. Something worse.

And that’s it. At least for now. My “Close Calls”. My “Almosts”.

I’m sure a year from now I’ll have collected another. But until then, I’ll just consider myself lucky.

Lucky I wasn’t molested, raped, kidnapped, beaten, or killed in those moments.

But maybe it wasn’t luck. Not entirely.

But I also don’t think it’s anything I did.

Sometimes it’s just timing.

Sometimes it’s circumstance.

And sometimes… it’s a one hundred and twenty pound golden retriever great pyrenees mix who decided, for whatever reason, not today.

So yeah.

Food for the Void, I guess.

If you’ve got your own “Almosts”… I’d be curious to hear them.

Until next time,

I’ll still be casually screaming into the void.

Bonus! A picture of Jewel and the willow tree.