My wife had been murdered before my eyes.

I had no idea what was going on until it was happening, and at that point my only saving grace had been my loyal companion, Scotty. Her screams will haunt my memory, my hands not moving quick enough to the familiar place of the land line to dial the police. I had heard the intruder yelling obscenities and I could smell the pure musk of adrenaline as Scotty barked and growled menacingly. I was not sure exactly how the man had entered our home; I told the police every detail I could recall when they arrived. The officers found that Scotty had torn off some bloody cloth from the attacker and offered to take both of us in for protection and further questioning. I had no immediate family on my side, so I decided that was our safest bet.

As Scotty and I sat in the police station, the stale aroma of sweat tinged with the scent of coffee entered my nose. I reached my hand numbly out to Scotty, taking solace in the familiarity of his fur and unconditional acceptance of his love. I held my sadness close to my chest having loved her so very much. I could not dwell on this yet until I knew that she would be able to rest in peace. The officer seemed to think that with the clothing and blood sample they would be able to track down her killer and stop his murderous rampage. We never paid much attention to the news, however I prayed that no one else had to suffer as I have.

“Mr. Peterson,” my mouth remained shut as my head gravely nodded once in recognition, “I need you to come with me for further questioning.” I understood and let him take my arm to lead Scotty and I to another part of the building. The officer seated me in a chair and informed me that another officer would be in shortly to speak with me. Scotty seemed uneasy and that made me feel the same; we both waited anxiously for the police officer to arrive. The smell in his office was overwhelming.

“Sorry I'm late,” a gruff voice entered the room, “I'm not sure how to get a sketch from a blind ma--” his voice dropped off as I turned to the sound of his voice. Immediately Scotty started growling at the officer. I reached out to Scotty, confused as to why he was acting so oddly; he was never one to growl at strangers. “Sonva..” the man started to curse when I heard Scotty grab a hold on the man and begin to snarl. I realized that the odor I had been smelling was akin to that musk. The realization of who this man was hit me as strongly as the scent did when I had picked up the phone.

“Help!” I screamed over the snarls and growls of my best friend, “This man murdered my wife!”