Page 5 of Training my Human

“Like fuck. I am not having some grasshoppers and stuff loose in my trailer. Bad enough I’ve got ants each summer.”

As Maddox rang up my purchases, he glanced at me. “I’ve seen you around. You work nearby?”

“Yeah, down the street. I am an artist at Holy Inkredible.”

“The tattoo place. Neat name. I hear you do good work.”

“Only the best,” I boasted. “You got any ink?”

He shook his head. “Nah. You?”

Guess he couldn’t tell given I wore long sleeves and pants. “A few.” I downplayed the number. Some dudes got weird about girls being tatted up.

“You do them yourself?”

“No. It’s not easy to work on your own skin. Leo does mine. And I do his.”

“Leo is…”

“My boss.” Although, I had to wonder why he asked. Fishing to see if I was single, perhaps? Hell, yeah. I wouldn’t mind taking Maddox for a ride.

“That will be forty-three seventy-nine. Cash or credit?”

“Cash.” I handed over two twenties and a ten and shoved the change in my pocket.

He paper-bagged my purchase and handed it to me. “Here you go. I’m Maddox, by the way. Or Mad, as my friends call me.”

“Are you an angry man?” I teased.

His grin flashed bright and panty-wetting. “Only if you abuse an animal or steal food from my plate.”

“I’m with you on both. I’m Pip.” I didn’t mention the fact it was short for Philippa—which I hated with a fucking passion. Mom named me after my deadbeat dad, a man who left before I was born but eventually returned, not to become a father. Oh no. He convinced my mom to abandon me at the age of three and run away with him. She didn’t even hesitate. Granny raised me and I thanked fuck for that fact. Last I heard, my parents were down in South America grifting. I only knew because my mother called to beg for some dough. Nohello how are you, just straight upI’m broke, can you send me some cash? I doubted I’d hear from her again since I told her she could take her demand and shove it up her twat. She called me ungrateful. I told her she could kiss my ass after I took a dump. Needless to say, that conversation ended abruptly.

“Nice to meet you, Pip. Good luck with your lizard.”

It would have been funny, only he meant it quite seriously. “Thanks, Mad.” Yeah, I used the nickname because it was cute.

I spent another two hours working, mostly doing up sketches and setting up appointments before heading home. When I entered the trailer, I half expected Little Fella to be gone, but the moment I opened the door, he stood on the couch and chirped at me.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re probably hungry. Look. I got you some yummies.” I grimaced at the smell and sight of the bugs as I put them on a plate on the floor.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one less than impressed. Little Fella took one sniff and gagged. Wait, could lizards gag?

“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t eat it either. I brought home some sausage to cook up on the firepit. Wanna try some of that?”

Little Fella did. He scarfed down a whole fat wiener and then eyed the other half of mine. Where the fuck was he putting it? He also greatly enjoyed the marshmallows I roasted. I ate three. He, well, he ate the rest when I wasn’t looking. Apparently, I didn’t cook them fast enough so he got into the bag and next thing I knew—gone.

When we went inside, I stepped over the clean paper towel—which made me wonder if Little Fella had left me a surprise somewhere—and flipped on the television in the bedroom. My one of only three free channels hadJurassic Parkplaying, which Little Fella seemed to greatly enjoy. He sat on my lap and didn’t turn his gaze once from the screen.

Once more, we slept together, and when I rose the next day, he remained in my bed. Since he’d enjoyed the bagel I’d left the day before, I made him another—from a fresh pack I’d bought—and refilled his water dish—a.k.a. repurposed margarine tub. I also turned on the TV in my living area and left it running since it had fascinated him so much.

I went to work, debated popping by to see Maddox, realized I had no reason since I’d forgotten to take a pic, and with no plausible excuse to swing by—because I wasn’t buying more bugs—ended up just going home.

Being low on supplies, I hit the grocery store for more stuff and bought enough my saddlebags bulged. Little Fella would be eating like a prince tonight as I’d grabbed us a rotisserie chicken and some cupcakes—that would likely have most of their icing plastered to the container. Wanna bet my little lizard would love licking it off?

With my arms laden with my purchases, I struggled to open the door. It swung open and I smiled at Little Fella perched on the couch, watching television. He craned his head to eye me and rather than the nonsensical chirping of before said quite distinctly if with an accent, “Woman, I’m hungry. Feed me.”

ChapterThree

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