The house smelled of roast chicken. My stomach issued a hungry growl. No wonder, I haven’t eaten all day except for an apple, which I shamelessly stole from Claire during our history of literature class. Claire, being a kind soul that she was, pretended not to notice.

I hung my coat on the rack and slouched into the living room. And there I saw her…

She was lying on the couch, her warm brown eyes looking at me as if seeing me for the first time. There was so much adoration and loyalty in them that I couldn't help but smile. I didn’t even realize how much I had missed her until this very moment. And now, my beloved blonde stood up and leaped towards me, almost knocking me over.

“Whoa, Abby! Calm down!” I yelled, and our family’s darling, a golden retriever named Abby, jumped back on the couch and resumed watching me with her dark, impatient eyes, wagging her tail happily.

I stroked her big, fluffy head.

“I missed you too, Abby.”

“How sweet,” Mom’s voice came from behind me, “a reunion of old friends. It’s always so touching.”

“Yeah.”

I looked around. Nothing has changed here at all in the past eight years since I moved out. A perfect time capsule. The same white marble fireplace, same weathered high back armchairs, a small dining table, mom’s favorite vase on a small coffee table by the couch…

“Wow, a new TV!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah,” mom laughed, “and a new spot for Abby. Now she sleeps on the couch, as you’ve probably noticed. I hate to chase her down every time, she’s not as young as she used to be.”

I looked at the dog that was jumping all over the couch like an over-sized puppy only stopping to diligently chew on a rubber bone toy.

“An old lady now, Abby, are you?” I smiled, remembering that Christmas when Dad had given mom a tiny pup as present…

I was sixteen then, thinking it would be cool if we had some kind of pet at home.

Something to bring joy to our parents, not just disappointment. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one thinking that. Dad had deliberated for a long time before eventually settling on a puppy. A little golden retriever.

That’s how Abby came into my parents’ lives and became an instant favorite, a ray of sunshine that brightened all the hardships and sorrows that my family had to

endure. Nothing could make my parents mad at her, not even a ruined couch and chewed-up shoes.

“How’s college going? ” a voice came from the depths of the kitchen. I walked over and leaned against the kitchen door, watching Mom skillfully plate up.

“Everything’s fine. Although, today I skipped a few classes,” I was careful to stress the fact that skipping classes was not a regular thing for me. Mom looked at me disapprovingly and tutted.

“Oh, come on, mom, you skip too,” I grinned.

“I don’t skip. I have a day off. And you? Overworking yourself, huh? Poor thing…”

“No. Sabrina wasn’t feeling well, so I drove her home.”

I saw those words had an effect on mom. She turned sharply and stared, waiting for explanation which I was purposely delaying.

“What…” she didn’t finish, as Abby rushed to the front door, barking madly and jumping around.

“Dad’s here,” Mom said, thrusting a towel into my hands and rushing to open the door.

“Hey, darling,” I heard Dad’s cheerful voice and went to greet him.

“Hey, son,” Dad’s eyes swept over me disapprovingly. He never liked my way of expressing myself, nor my lifestyle, but has apparently accepted it and no longer voiced his opinions out loud. I furrowed my eyebrows returning his gaze.

Before me stood the same tall, broad-shouldered man with a shock of half-gray hair, a little too luscious for a male; the same mustache, same piercing green eyes, and a huge beer belly. Dad was clearly uncomfortable under my scrutinizing gaze and waived his hand dismissively as he handed mom his coat and made his way to the living room, clutching onto his briefcase.