Honestly it was more like a howl. He’d look at me with doleful eyes. I’m sure if he could speak he’d say something like “For God’s sake woman you should know why I’m barking at this tree”
Looking up, I couldn’t see anything different with this tree to the rest. No cat stranded in its branches. I even thought about bringing a spade and digging around the roots.
Was he turning into a sniffer dog, a cadaver dog, my imagination was running riot.
I began to investigate other trees. It was turning into a hobby. I bought a little book so I could put names to each one. The dog stopped wanting to go out with me preferring to go with my partner. I didn’t miss his company.
I stopped going to work, stopped cooking. Eating shop-bought sandwiches on the run, in between trees. Stopped washing, stopped anything that delayed me looking for that one special tree. Today I looked up to the sky and between the branches I could see a cloud in the shape of a dog biscuit. Now I knew my dog had been barking up the wrong tree.