The Dog

Upon arriving home, one Saturday afternoon, I found the front door of the apartment locked. This was unusual, as, given the time and day, my Brazilian host mom was usually home.

In fact, she should have been expecting me. I had left her a message 20 minutes prior to inform her that I would be arriving back from an event that our neighbors had invited me to, and, in accordance with similar situations in the past, I had expected my host mom to leave the door unlocked. I knocked on the door, but to no avail.

Figuring she had perhaps taken Sophia, her large Golden Retriever, for a walk, I pulled my key to the apartment out of my bag. When I attempted to enter the key in the door, however, it stopped short of entering the lock. I frowned. I tried again to enter my key in the lock. Again, it jammed short of clicking into place.

I quickly realized that my host mom’s keys had been left in the lock on the other side of the door, meaning I couldn’t use my key to unlock it from the outside. I called her cell phone, thinking that perhaps she had laid down for a nap and couldn’t hear me at the door.

The call went to voicemail.

I tried, again, to enter my key in the lock.

Again, my key jammed against my host mom’s key, still resting in the lock on the other side.

I sighed. It was clear to me that my host mom was home. Less clear to me was why she had not yet opened the door for me, or answered my calls.

I called my host mom’s number a second time, then a third time, desperately hoping she would answer.

Suddenly, the door swung open. My host mom stood there, her cell phone ringing in her hand.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get your message earlier! I’ve been busy since you left.”

Sophia greeted me at my host mom’s feet, tail wagging. Behind her, I was greeted by… another Golden Retriever?

I looked up at my host mom. “Who is this?!”

She scratched the new dog behind her ears. “This is our new family member! I picked her up today after seeing a Facebook post about a Golden Retriever who needed a new home… it’s a long story. She needed a bath though, so I’ve been cleaning her up in the bathroom.”

I bent down to greet the newest member of my host family, the key to the apartment still in my hand.

By Kristen Tuttle
Student, School in Brazil, Spring 2017