Scout and the Space Heater

Scout is not a barker. In five years I could count the times on my fingers. So when he started barking at three in the morning, standing at the foot of our bed, I knew something was wrong.

I followed him down the hall. A blanket had slipped onto the space heater in the living room, and the edge of it had started to smolder. There was no flame yet, only a thick acrid smell and a thin gray thread of smoke.

I unplugged the heater, threw the blanket outside and opened every window. My hands were shaking. Scout sat beside me the whole time, pressed against my leg, watching.

The fire department told us the smoke detector in that room had a dead battery. We replaced every battery that same morning, and now we change them on the first of every season.

Scout got a steak that day, and he has a standing invitation to the couch. I do not know if a dog can understand what he did. I only know that I am grateful every time I see him, and that I check the heater before bed.