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“Welcome home!” I burst through Anna’s apartment door, arms held high to wrap her in an I-am-so-fecking-glad-to-see-you-hug. Chewie leaps in front of me, ecstatic to be home with her mommy. My heart echoes the dog’s sentiment, and I can’t help but laugh. Oh, sugar, what a freaking relief to be delivering a healthy dog.
Anna crouches to love on her furry beast. Jackson shouts out a hello from the kitchen and asks if I want anything to drink. “Nah, I’m good. I’m not gonna stay long.”
From her bending position, Anna checks out my outfit. She grins. “You look good, girl. Have you got a date?”
I grin right back and pretty much bounce over to one of the kitchen stools. Being free of dog responsibilities feels damn good. One long nap, shower, and a blow out on my hair, and it’s a new day. So much brighter than yesterday. “Yep, I do. Your vet asked me out!” I almost squeal.
“Dr. Herriot!” Anna exclaims. “Wait, why did you go to the vet?”
I twist a little on the stool as I flutter my fingers around to indicate she can calm down. “Everything’s fine, but we did have an incident. A small incident. It’s all okay.”
Big brown eyes stare back at me. She’s not exactly mad, but she’s definitely waiting for the explanation. She continues to comb over the mangy mutt’s curly hair as if she’s hunting for the injury.
“Yeah, so, Chewie ate an entire bag of dog food.”
Jackson chuckles behind me. I continue, “You told me you’d be out of cell range. Thank the gods you had me on your caretaker list. And she’s fine now. He did give her an IV because I guess the dry food dehydrated her, but she’s good. Been pooping like a champ today.” I grin, proud. The dog’s alive. I’ll probably never dog sit again, but she survived. Alive is good. “Once I knew she’d be okay, I figured telling you all about it in person was preferable to me sending an email or text.”
Anna crosses her legs on the floor, and the brown mass of fur attempts to crawl into her lap and curl up. She’s too big to actually fit, but her tail wags back and forth, oblivious. “She’s such a good dog. A healthy, hungry girl, aren’t you?” Anna tilts her head to me, a big smile across her face, the happiest of dog moms. “So, Dr. Herriot? He’s hot as fuck.”
Jackson’s voice sounds from behind me, a mixture of curious and wary. “Who is this?”
“Oh, my vet. You haven’t met him,” Anna answers as she scratches Chew’s ears.
Jackson steps out of the kitchen, gives me a quick hug, then pops Anna on the head. “Sounds like maybe I should. Hot as fuck. Really?”
“Not as hot as you, babe.” She blows him a kiss, and he smirks, shaking his head as he walks to the back of the apartment.
My phone vibrates, and I pull it out. Mom’s calling. I decline the call and slip it back into my clutch. There’s no way I’m answering her call on the same day I have a date. She’s got, like, crazy black magic powers and she’ll sense through the phone line what I’m up to. Definite decline.
“So, yeah.” I lower my voice in case Jackson’s listening in. I reach out with my leg and toe Anna to get her attention. “You never told me your vet is so freaking hot! And he’s super nice. Like, such a good guy.”
Anna smiles. “Yeah. He’s a nice guy. But, Dee, you don’t normally go out with a guy more than once or twice. You’re gonna be good to him, right?” She angles her eyebrows seriously. “You aren’t going to force me to change vets, are you?”
“No. Not at all. He’s not even that into me. I was prepared to ask him out, but then he asked me out!” I squeal that last bit because it’s exciting. Even Anna described him as sexy, and he has women calling him right and left. What girl doesn’t get jazzed when a hottie asks her out? Anna’s wearing her skeptic face, so I reassure her.
“It’s not a definite date. He didn’t use the word date. This is almost more like friends getting together. Besides, I’ll be moving back to New Orleans.”
“When?” Anna’s quick with the question. I often talk about moving back to New Orleans, but since we work together, she’s always questioning my plans.
“There’s no date set. It’s gonna eventually happen, though. These are my fun years.” I jump off the stool, arms wide open, attempting to mimic the dramatic Titanic moment on the bow of the ship.
Anna returns her attention to Chew while shaking her head. I’m not sure she gets my impersonation.
“Be good to him. He seems like a nice guy. I’d hate to see him added to the long line of heartbroken men in your wake.”
“Oh, sugar! Heartbroken men, my ass,” I snap.
She rolls her eyes, and I brace for her to spout off names, but she drops it. “So, tell me more about what he said about Chew. Anything I need to watch out for?”
“Not really. Make sure she continues to drink lots of water and has regular bowel movements. She had diarrhea, but her poo seems to be hardening up. I’m so sorry. I’m the worst at taking care of things.”
“No, you are not! She’s doing great. And she’s overeaten with me before too. That’s why I keep her food in a locked container. She’s a greedy little minx. Don’t be hard on yourself.” For effect, she points, scolding me. “Don’t ever say that again, girl. You are great at taking care of those you love. No self-degradation in this room. Got it?”
Well, I survived this test. I’ll give myself that much. The dog is alive.