By Invitation Only

The grief was unbearable. Every aspect of her life, every place she went inside and outside of her house, reminded her of him. Her heart had been ripped open by the loss, making her view the world through a tattered veil of emotions. She could see his beautiful, black, wide eyes looking up at her in adoration, love passing between them with every gaze. How comforting it was to hold him with his head on her shoulder, feeling the warmth and affection the relationship afforded.

Unconditional love was rare in this world, and she had found it, packaged in eighteen pounds of bone, muscle, and hair. The silky black coat was brushed daily to keep him tangle free and special meals of sirloin tips and kibble were prepared for his enjoyment. His stature as an old soul was not hindered in his canine form, for the ancient Tibetans bred him to be an intelligent companion.

For fifteen years, the love affair lasted, the attachment growing with each day that passed. Loretta loved Toby more than anything in the world. Toby loved her equally, holding onto life to be with her despite his affliction. She loved him enough not to let him suffer from the seizures and the pain any longer. Holding him and kissing him she said her last goodbye as the doctor injected the lethal dose that released Toby into eternal sleep. In her arms, he took a final breath.

The void was gaping, his death leaving her desolate and filled with sorrow. Loretta had asked him not to worry for her and to go to the light to find peace. She loved him enough to let him go. Years passed since his precious life was extinguished, the grief welling up afresh with each memory flashing his beautiful face into her mind’s sight as though his demise occurred just moments before. Three years went by, and then two more and it seemed to Loretta that the mourning would never cease.

Everyone in the complex knew Toby and how Loretta doted on the small, furry creature. They inquired as to how she was getting along, each concern stabbing her heart like a needle. The building and its occupants were old; all of them having lost loved ones in one form or another. From time to time she considered moving to a bright new place, hoping the emotional darkness would end, but the small apartment was filled with his memory and she was reluctant to leave.

The plaster on the walls was beginning to crumble in places. The landlord, Hal Cranston, was expeditious in his handling of problems with the building and had expertly repaired the cracks. Even with his swift attention, there was one spot in the corner of her bedroom that refused to succumb to repeated coatings. Mr. Cranston would fix the area during the day, and by evening, signs of wear appeared once again. It was as though there was something inside the wall trying to push its way out.

He tried rattraps, had the building inspected by a professional exterminating company, and even went around the hallways at various times of the day and night listening at the walls attempting to hear the scurrying of the culprit that was destroying his handiwork. The efforts produced no result, and the wall continued to crumble in Loretta’s bedroom.

For the most part, the deterioration happened while Loretta was asleep, dreaming that she and Toby were together once more. Waking to the emptiness that consumed her made each morning difficult. The more powerful the dream, the more plaster dust was on the floor in the morning. It became habit to open her eyes and look over at the disintegrating corner, to see the extent of the night’s effect. Eventually, Loretta stopped calling Mr. Cranston to assist. When he inquired, she told him every