Page 29 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Don’t you have a dog to walk?”
I grab my keys. “Later.”
“Text me when you get to the place. The entrance instructions are a little quirky.”
Ordinarily, I’d be put off byquirkybut not for a rental so close to the beach at that price point.
I drive with the windows down on my 1977 Porsche, not caring that I am a cliché. I can taste the salt in the air, even if I’m too far away to hear the surf, when I pull up to a smart two-story in the hills of Pacific Beach.
I double-check the address before I knock on the door.
Lots of barking ensues. The door cracks open, and a big black wet nose sticks out through the crack.
“You must be Heraldo,” I say to the dog, who is barking and whining and desperately trying to paw his way outside.
“Goodness gracious, would you just stop?” A petite woman with gray hair streaked with a few dramatic black lowlights shoves past the mutt and closes the door.
“Lorraine? Hi, I’m Beatrice from FroggoDoggo.”
“Oh, thank heavens. I’d invite you in, but then, Heraldo.” She gestures to the closed door that is muffling lots of barking. “Howin the world do you put a dog that weighs a hundred and nine pounds and won’t sit still into a harness? Whatever happened to dogs wearing collars?”
The dog scratches at the door and whines. “Did you recently adopt?”
“Ha! My daughter and grandchildren are visiting for the week and brought their mutt with them.”
I check the app. “He’s a goldendoodle pitsky?”
“I think that’s what they said. It was hard to hear with all the barking.” Lorraine takes out her phone. “I sent them off to the Birch Aquarium, hoping to sneak away for just a little peace and quiet before we head off to whale watching, but Fido here cannot be left alone, and the kennel will not take him until noon. A walk would serve, but how am I going to walk a dog that weighs more than I do?”
“I’ve got it. You go enjoy your morning, and we’ll be back whenever—”
“Quarter to noon. I’d rather not spend the rest of the day stuck on a boat discussing how I could have just taken the grandkids to the aquarium and left Marcie at home to walk Buster.” Lorraine puts her hand on my arm. “Grandma needs to make her ten o’clock massage, and then she needs to read her book with a slice of chocolate cake and an espresso.”
“Eleven forty-five sharp. They’ll never know.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” Lorraine hesitates. “I’m a fantastic grandmother. Really. I’ve looked forward to this visit for ages.” Heraldo barks loudly on the other side of the door.
“But even grandmas need their me time.” I pat Lorraine’s hand.
Wrestling a hundred and nine pounds of overgrown exuberance into a harness isn’t easy, but, happily, Heraldo is a very friendly pup. We take off for the hills. I may not have ever had a dog, but how hard can this be?
Luckily, there are some fairly steep hills in this area of Pacific Beach. We sprint up some, walk up others. Wind our way through many a cul-de-sac. Heraldo is big, and by the ninety-minute mark, he lies down in the middle of the sidewalk, panting and placid, and refuses to move.
“Dude.” I tug on the leash. “We’ve got another forty-five minutes. Let’s go.”
Heraldo will not budge. He’s found a bit of cool concrete, thanks to the dappled shade of a jacaranda tree.
“I’m not carrying you home.”
Heraldo whines and lowers his chin onto his paws.
Oh gosh, did I break this dog?
Maybe two hours and fifteen minutes is too long of a walk. I sit next to Heraldo and scratch his ears. I give him ten minutes while I google “goldendoodle pitsky stamina” and also “help my dog won’t walk.” I spend another ten trying to persuade Heraldo to get on his feet.
“Come on, dude. Just up this last hill.”
Nothing doing.
