Page 69 of Hound Dog
Maple Grove was an incredibly dog-friendly town. Almost every business allowed dogs.
I paused, growing suddenly serious as a thought struck me. “Serious question, though… pineapple on pizza. Yes or no?”
She snorted. “Absolutely yes. Salty sweet can’t be beat.”
I hissed and shook my head. “Oh. Wrong answer. Pineapple pizza is a crime against pizzas. And Italians.”
“Fine by me. Lock my ass up.”
With a flick of my fingers, I flipped my blinker on and pulled into a parking spot off the square near Nick’s Pizzeria. “Zero fucks given? I like it.”
“Besides, I could eat an entire pizza by myself right now I’m so hungry.”
I knew what she meant. It was only two-thirty, but even with the sandwiches we ate at the summit, I was starving, too. And I kind of loved the fact that Haylee was totally herself around me.
She didn’t pick at a salad and claim she was full after a few bites. She ate hotdogs. And dressed appropriately for a hike… not in some expensive designer workout outfit that she’d be concerned about if it got dirty.
I put the car in park, but before I even had my door open, Haylee was out of the car, grabbing the dogs.
“You weren’t kidding,” I laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move this fast.”
She handed me Tyson’s leash and looked both ways before crossing the street. I had to jog to keep up with her.
“I haven’t been on a hike that rigorous in at least a year,” she said. “I need sustenance. Fast.”
I waved at Nick through the open door as we sat down at a table outside, each of us bending to tie up the dogs to our chairs.
Birdie and Tyson flopped down, tired and happy. Meryl had a great yard and took good care of them, but that didn’t change the fact that she had fourteen dogs and none of them got out of their own home and yard very often. Things like this hike today were so good for them.
Within moments of taking our seats, Nick came out with menus, two glasses of water for us, and a big bowl of water for the dogs.
He paused, scratching Birdie’s chin a little longer. “Wow, she’s a beaut,” he said.
I eyed Haylee, but before I could say a word, she blurted out, “Isn’t she? She’s a lab-pit-greyhound mix we think.”
“Gorgeous,” Nick muttered and gave her belly a quick pat.
“She’s available to adopt… if you’re in the market.” Haylee beamed at him and then tapped her palm to her forehead. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Haylee. Meryl Rogers’s niece.”
She offered Nick her hand which he took slowly, scratching at his beard with the other free hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve got one mutt back home, but he could use a friend. What’s her name?”
“Birdie.”
He paused, thinking. “Like… golf?”
“LikeBye, Bye Birdie. Aunt Meryl’s kind of a theater buff.”
I laughed and leaned back in my chair. “Sure,Aunt Merylis. Don’t think I didn’t hear you hummingRenton the hike.”
“You heard that?”
I didn’t answer, other than the slight lift of my brows.
Then, with a click of her tongue, Haylee rolled her eyes. “Well, I never said Iwasn’ta theater buff. ButIdidn’t name Birdie. You can take it up with Meryl if you don’t like the name.”
Nick held his hands up. “Hey, don’t put words into my mouth. I like the name. How old is she, anyway?”
“We’re not sure. But we think she’s probably around two based on her teeth and energy level.”
