Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when I arrived home after work and put my key in the front door. I noticed my Pomeranian, Lulu, wasn’t barking. She always barked when I came home.

I went inside. Lulu whimpered on the kitchen floor. I rushed to her.

Across the room lay Mildred, the old lady next door. Mildred hated Lulu. She spent much of her free time screaming about the noise Lulu made when she barked. She always threatened to shut the dog up if I didn’t. I dismissed her as a cranky old neighbor.

Mildred stared at us with glassy eyes. The heavy bleeding from her head formed a pool around her.

How did my neighbor end up dead in my house? While a surprise, I could make an educated guess. She finally decided to do it. She tried to kill my little dog.

Lulu wouldn’t eat the poisoned food given to her. It still sat on the floor.

That explained why Mildred tried to force the food down Lulu’s throat, evidenced by all the bite marks on her right hand and the blood around Lulu’s mouth. It also explained why Lulu was sick, but still alive. She didn’t ingest much.

Mildred must have fallen in the commotion of being bitten and hit her head on the counter. A large spot of blood sat on the granite’s edge.

I know I should have called the police right away. But I took a moment for myself, scooped up Lulu, looked back at Mildred, and said what I was really thinking.

“Serves you right.”