We are by ourselves on a small island off the coast of British Columbia, in my husband’s family’s house. It is a brisk 15 degrees Centigrade and we at some point need to walk the four miles back to the dock now that we know that the key to the utility truck is in the ashtray. Next to me is a book, The Blessings of a Good Thick Skirt, about pre-20th century female travelers/explorers.

I’m lying on the couch, reading The Encyclopedia of Mass Murder.

I Am That Woman.

How well does my husband know me? There is a leave one, take one library that Nate walked by whilst taking care of other matters; he came back with the Encyclopedia for me. He’s pretty sure I won’t kill him in his sleep but sometimes he must wonder.

We haven’t slept well for three nights running. The first night it was the discomfort of a too-soft bed and far-too-soft pillows (well, the lodging was free). The second night there was a fire alarm test. Comforting to know that I a) put on shoes and jacket, b) grabbed iPhone, notepad, and pen, c) used the stairs, not the elevator, and d) got the hell out. I, of course, did not know it was a test. Others who did were less interested in surviving.

Then last night at midnight I was called by an awkward teenager who said his name was Jacob and he had found our lost dog Sakura and where did we want him to take her? Well, I thought, Not Here. We’re 1,500 miles away from you and the dog. And what if this is a scam, and you’re just trying to get our address so you and your tattooed millennial friends can go by our house and steal our old furniture and broken-spined paperbacks? DIDN’T THINK OF THAT, DID YOU?

He knew what color harness she wore and we hadn’t told that to anyone. So he was real. Five phone calls and ten texts later we had a friend meet him and his buddies (none of whom had tattoos and all of whom were awkward) at the local Safeway. Sakura was safe and would never ever, be allowed to leave the house again (Well, maybe. Occasionally. For walks and to poop on someone else’s lawn). And when we get home I’m buying Jacob a gift card for Niketown and have already sworn that, if his dog got out, I’d follow her for an hour down streets and sidewalks and across yards until her leash got caught in a bush and I could catch her and bring her back to him, just like he did for Sakura.

I think we’ll sleep well tonight. The bed’s fine. There’s no fire alarm here and there’s an ocean just a leap away. And none of our other dogs are lost.

I think.