Page 27 of Forever & Always You
We distribute the remaining few toys, and the very last kennel on the row is home to a miniature golden poodle named Lily, who was found as a stray eating chicken wings out of the garbage. She licks every inch of my hand in an overload of excitement.
“Oh, Austin, I love chicken wings too! And she has curly hair just like me. I think she might be my soul dog.”
Austin crouches down next to me and pats the mound of curled fur on top of Lily’s little head. “Hey, Lils. If only you didn’t want to square up to every other dog, I’m sure you’d have been adopted by now.”
I give Austin a sidelong look. “Look at her tiny little paws.”
“Very cute, I know.”
“And she has a goofy underbite.Aww.Look at the way her lips are stuck to her teeth!”
“Unfortunately, no braces for you, Lily.”
“Austin .?.?.” I purse my lips, blinking slow and pleadingly. “I really think youshouldget an office dog.”
“No.”
“An office dog that loves chicken wings and has curly fur and an underbite.”
“No.”
“And then you hire me as the Pierce Wealth Management’s pet wrangler.”
“Fuck no. You couldn’t even look after the decor.”
Crouched together on the floor, both our hands stuck through the kennel door to pet Lily, we glower at each other. The intensity builds and builds until we both crack into laughter in perfect synchronization.
“I tried my best, Lily,” I tell the poodle, scratching under her chin.
We get permission to take Teddy out into the agility field and I wonder if there’s enough hours in the day to takeeverydog outside to play, because I do feel guilty as we walk Teddy down the corridor, passing all the other dogs. They’ll each get their turn with the shelter staff, but still. They don’t get their turn withme, and that’s a real shame, because I like to believe I’m fun to run around with.
“Teddy!” I call, slapping my hands against my thighs to lure him into chasing me, but for a supposedly energetic breed, he doesn’t seem to like running much. Maybe it’s his old age, but he seems happier sniffing the grass and cocking a leg up on the fence. “Oh. Enjoy your pees then.”
I look to Austin for back up, but he’s occupied by mindlessly weaving around a set of tall agility poles in the grass.
“You should stick to the track,” I say when he knocks the last pole. “You’re not very good at dog agility courses.” There’s a wooden balancing seesaw that I can’t resist climbing up, and I hold my body steady in the center, the board tipping back and forth.
“Concussed, remember?” Austin calls out across the field. “Get down from there.”
“But I’m so good at it!”
Austin runs over and wraps his hand around my wrist, gently guiding me back down the board until I’m safe on solid ground. I’m getting used to the feeling of his skin against mine the more he touches me, and I debate climbing back up onto the seesaw just so I can feel his hand on my wrist as he guides me down all over again.
“This is the kind of shit you’d do back when we were kids.”
“I don’t remember us ever hanging out in dog shelters.”
Austin smiles as he drops to the grass, leaning back on his hands, long legs stretched out in front of him. “You were always so carefree,” he says, looking up at me from the ground. “Youlost that about yourself as we grew up.”
“And you were always reserved and worried about the consequences,” I say, joining him on the grass, “and unfortunately, it seems that hasn’t changed. Mr. Sensible Businessman Who Won’t Let Me Play on the Seesaw. You’re such agrown-up.”
“Hey, one of us had to be the responsible one,” Austin says, digging his elbow into my ribs. “That time you jumped into the lake fully clothed? The only reason I followed you in was because someone needed to pull you out. Couldn’t let my best friend drown, could I?”
Teddy pads over and settles on the grass with us, wedging his butt in between Austin and me. I run my hand down his back, his coat warm under the sunshine. Austin scratches behind his ears.
“I bet you’d let me drown now,” I muse.
“To death? No,” Austin says. “Maybe just to the point of requiring CPR.”
