Another Time
He knew the dog was the answer to his loneliness. But sometimes, finding what you're looking for reveals an even deeper secret you never knew existed.
STORY
The office air at the shelter smelled of cinnamon-scented candle and kibble. He approached the woman at the desk.
“I found the one.” He gave the number.
Bernice was brought out. A stubby tail wagged. Her wide brown eyes held the same soft caution as the stray he’d found at the age of seven. He knelt. Bernice licked his hand. A small, familiar warmth bloomed.
“She’s never this happy.” The woman smiled, fetching paperwork.
He held Bernice. She curled against his inner elbow. Delicate fur. Pen in hand, he started filling the form. Occupants: 1. Children: 0.
Bernice pressed her nose to his chest. His hand over her paw. For the first time in years, he wouldn’t be going back to an empty house.
The doorbell jingled. A boy and his father entered. As they passed, the boy crouched and clicked his tongue. Bernice sprang from his lap to the floor, scampering to the boy. A flurry of sniffs and slurps.
He watched them. The boy. The father. Seeing the dog greet the child, the angle of the father’s head. Their voices... Not just familiarity. Truth. Impossible, undeniable truth.
When he saw the clover-shaped birthmark on the boy’s neck, his heart seized and the room tilted.
“Are you okay, sir?” the woman asked.
Bernice yipped, nudging the boy’s knee with playful zest.
He covered his own neck, the phantom itch of a matching clover burning against his palm. He folded the incomplete form. Stood. Looked at the boy, then his father. “She’s theirs,” he told the attendant. Managed a nod at the father. “Maybe another time.”
🎧 Companion Audio: Themes & Hidden Threads
This story is fully human‑written. The audio below is an optional AI‑generated (NotebookLM) commentary created after the story — a kind of literary companion that highlights themes, symbolism, and patterns readers might enjoy exploring.
Author’s Note
This story comes from a prompt at The Authors Only Collective. The prompt was something related to time travel for meeting ones past self.
The Story Behind the Story
I had just put my dog down at the vet a week or two prior to this prompt, that’s why there’s a dog. I also got my first dog after I was married and we had our own house, so I might have been in my early thirties.
I wish my child self would have had a dog. It would have helped out a lot while growing up. The positioning of this story is my present self, wishing my dad would have taken me to a local shelter to pick up one of the few dogs that I was privileged to have.
One thing I remember when visiting shelters was the paperwork. It was one thing to see so many animals looking for homes and once someone finds a pet, there is this crazy amount of paperwork.
I figured this is where the time clash would happen, because when I had adopted my first dog, a man and his son came over—-they wanted the pup and the kid was heartbroken when the clerk told him that I adopted it.
I miss my dad and I wish that moment, where we both arrive at a shelter and just as a man is about to adopt a pup, sees the heartbreak and lets me adopt it instead. The crux of this post is wishful thinking. I would have loved to see my father’s face and look into his eyes one more time. I wouldn’t say who I was. I’d just smile, nod and photograph that image in my mind and burn it in forever.
This piece got a little heavy, my apologies. That was my reality at the moment my fingers were on the keyboard.