Page 115 of Mila: The Godfather

Family Dinner & Deadly Threats

RIAGAN

“The shit I do for her.” – R

“Here he is,” The lady, Lany, I think that’s what she said her name was, announces happily as she enters the room with a small Golden Retriever on the end of a green leash. The small dog approaches me cautiously when I kneel in front of him. Wide brown eyes, tail down, and a bit guarded, yet he lets me pet his small head.

He’s shy.

I can tell by how he looks up at me cautiously, not barking up a storm like the other dogs did to grab my attention.

Every reservation I had before entering the pet store disappears when I touch his soft fur. “You’re a handsome little fuck.”

A giggle makes me look up at the lady and find her smiling down at us.

“His name is Bruno.” Lany says.

Bruno.

Don’t think there’s a Bruno in the clan. “Bruno.” The small dog licks my hand playfully. “Oh, you’re a clever one, huh?”

“He’s a super nice boy. A little shy at first, but he’s not used to his surroundings. It’s hard for older dogs to adjust to such an upheaval. As much as we try to make them happy and comfy here, it’s still so scary for them.” I detect a bit of sadness in her tone. I bet.

While I was researching the perfect dog, or perfect fit for me, at least, I came across a bit of information and statistics on how many dogs are abandoned daily in the United States and how a lot of those dogs who end up being put up for adoption take a little time to get comfortable.

I chose this particular store because they not only find homes for pure breeds but for stray dogs as well.

The dog, Bruno, relaxes as I pet him, easing himself into a sitting position and offering me his paw to shake. Laughing, I take his furry paw in my hand and bob it up and down. He wags his tail and offers me his other paw.

“You want to come home with me?” I ask the dog, gently rubbing his head. “Get spoiled? Run free?” He licks my hand, as if he’s telling me ’yes’, then he puts his leg over his eyes, almost as if he’s shy.

And it reminds me of her.

I came here for her, and now I’m leaving as the owner of a dog.

One whose fur is the same shade as the hair I constantly dream about at night.

Woof.

The tiny pup removes his leg from his eyes, sticks his tongue out and falls back on the floor.

Sweet and dramatic.

I’m sold.

Thirty minutes later, I’m speeding home with an overly excited pup scratching his balls inside my Porsche.

***

The memory of when I first met Bruno comes to mind as I watch a nervous Mila focus all her attention on Bruno, who is lazily napping on her lap. I got the damn dog a couple of months ago, and originally, I was aiming for a guard dog, but then I saw Bruno lying on the mat, away from the rest of the dogs, and it tugged at my heart. The little happy fucker reminding me so much of her. I was sold the moment he put his tiny paw in my hand. So sweet. So smart. Fuck, I was gone for him too. Now seeing the two of them together and witnessing Mila’s joy, I don’t regret leaving that shelter with the little guy.

All he needed was a home and a little bit of love.

Tenderness.

Just like my wife.

Wife.

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