Page 5 of Claimed by my Bestie's Dad

“I know, Aurora. Thanks, but I’ll figure something out. I’m just going to focus on boarding more dogs, maybe take on some extra gigs. DoorDash or something. I’ll make it work.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, I’m here. I’m your bestie, girl.”

“I know. Thanks.” We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, tossing the phone onto the counter with a little more force than necessary.

I hate feeling like this—helpless, frustrated, and humiliated. I can’t stop thinking about how easily Ethan rejectedmy request. I mean, he’s not obligated to give anyone a loan, but I would think he could at least politely listen to the business plan I so carefully prepared. He treated me like a gold digger, and it makes me feel dirty.

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away. Dwelling on it won’t help. I have work to do. At least if I can get any more customers, I will. I can’t let one bad encounter with Ethan Taylor knock me off course. I’ll get my surf school on my own. It just may take longer.

But I won’t forget this. And if Ethan thinks he can just brush me off like I’m nothing, he’s got another thing coming.

The next day,I’m up early, already deep into my morning routine. Samson is old enough to be housebroken now, but we have another puppy coming—a four-month-old pug named Scout. They booked nearly two weeks ago, and I’m excited to have a longer boarding since they will be out of town for ten days. I do know that even though they say Scout is housebroken, that might not be the case.

At least my house can start clean, even if it doesn’t end that way.

Samson watches me curiously, darting forward to sniff at my broom before barking at it like it’s some hairy animal attacking him.

“Don’t worry, boy. I’ll get you out for some real exercise before your friend shows up, okay? Then, he’ll tire you out, and I won’t have to throw the ball so many times.”

I finish cleaning up and glance at the clock. My customer should be arriving soon, but I have time to throwthe ball in the backyard with Samson. My backyard isn’t fenced in, but Samson knows the rules.

“Go on, boy! Get it!” I shout encouragingly as Samson charges after the ball.

We get in a few extra tosses before Samson decides to take the ball around to the front of the house, taking off like he’s heard something.

I call after him, but I already know that our customer has arrived. Hopefully, they don’t mind an excited greeting.

I quickly jog after Samson, trying to look composed as I slow down before rounding the front corner of my house.

An older man is in my driveway, and he’s holding a wiggly puppy in his arms. I can’t help but smile at the sight.

“Good morning, Madison. I hope we’re not too early. I know I said an eight to nine a.m. drop off, and it’s just a minute after eight.”

“You’re fine. We’re excited to have Scout.” I point at Samson who is standing on his back two legs as he tries to sniff at Scout. “Samson is definitely ready for a friend.”

The man hooks a leash onto Scout and finally sets him on the ground, where both puppies happily bark at each other.

“I’ve got a bag with his food and some toys. I also have a page of instructions there. Please read them and let me know if you have any questions. This is his first time staying away from us, and I just want to make sure you feel comfortable with everything.”

I take Scout’s leash and smile. “Of course. I have your phone number, so I’ll send you updates and pictures while you’re away.”

“Thank you. My wife especially would love an update or two, just to know he’s doing okay.”

Samson goes into a playful bow with his butt up in theair, and Scout copies him. Then, they charge at each other, the leash getting tangled up. “Let’s take this playing inside,” I suggest, leading Scout toward the door. Samson bounds after us, and Scout’s owner waves before pulling out of the long driveway.

“Let’s see this fun place you’re going to be staying, yeah, boy?” Scout runs into the house, barely staying still long enough for me to get the leash off him. He becomes very curious about the house, sniffing at the sofa, the coffee table, and the corner. Samson follows him around, keeping a watchful eye on the little ball of energy, making sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.

For a moment, I forget about all the stress from the day before. Watching Scout’s playful antics brings a smile to my face, and I feel a little of the weight on my shoulders lift. This is why I do what I do—because it makes me happy, and because I love giving these dogs a safe, fun place to stay.

I’ll be able to start my real dream job sometime in the future, I hope.

Just as I’m about to head into the kitchen to grab some treats for the dogs, I realize I never even checked my mail yesterday. I pull the front door open so I can slip out. But Scout is faster than I realized.

“Scout, no!” I shout, rushing forward, but Scout has bolted. Samson circles me, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. Should he chase his new friend or stay with me?

Panic grips me as I sprint after him, my heart racing. “Scout! Come back!” Samson stays in the yard, barking at the excitement.

But Scout is already halfway down the driveway, heading straight for the road. I can only hope that the puppy doesn’t get too far before I catch up to him.

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