Tetra pulled on her shoes and scampered out of the garage before Val could say another word.
“Shit, Gennie,” Val muttered. “I hope I’m not making a giant mistake.”
Genevieve honked.
“We all know you hate her.” Val patted the hood.
She let herself into the living room, and a merry bark greeted her. The dog trotted in from the kitchen, tail waving, moving with only a slight limp since the cast bore most of his weight. His hind legs danced on the carpet as he rammed his nose into her hand and licked it.
“Hey, dude.” Val stroked his head. “You hungry?”
The dog sat.
“C’mon, boy.” Val strode into the kitchen. The dog slowly followed and flopped into his bed as if the burst of energy had tired him out. His bowl was still half full.
“You’re eating better, buddy, but you’ve got to eat more,” Val told him. “You’re still just skin, bones, and asshole. How will you put on weight if you don’t eat?”
The dog laid his head on his front paws, one brown, one wrapped in white, and studied her with doleful eyes.
“I bought this for you.” Val grabbed a can of wet food from her backpack. “Maybe you’ll like it.”
She tipped the can into a clean bowl and prodded it across the floor. The dog raised his head and sniffed, then licked the food. He licked again but didn’t dive in like Val had hoped he would.
“Don’t make me stick my hands in that gross shit,” Val complained.
The dog stopped licking and turned his deep brown eyes on her.
“Fine.” Val sat beside him and dipped her fingers into the cold, squishy mess. She held them out to the dog, who happily licked them clean. “This is disgusting. I’ll tell people all about this when I look for a new home for you.”
The dog wagged his tail.
“No, dude. This is not permanent. I took you home to save your life, not to have a dog. I don’t need a dog.” Val scooped up more food, and the dog messily licked it from her hand. “You’re gross, you know that?”
The dog wagged his tail harder.
“Yeah, you gross thing, you.” Val couldn’t resist dipping her head to plant a kiss on his soft fur. The dog raised his nose and tried to lick her face, and she barely dodged his sticky tongue. “Ew! Eat your dinner, assface.” She nudged the bowl nearer.
The dog ignored it and snuffled the front of her shirt. His sniffing turned intense when he reached her amulet, and he squirmed, trying to crawl into her lap.
“You like that, huh?” Val wiped her hands on a paper towel and fished the amulet out of her shirt. “Think it’s cool?”
The dog’s tail had stopped wagging. With his floppy ears pricked as much as they could, he sniffed the amulet intently, his damp nose hovering a quarter of an inch from the metal.
“You are so weird. You’re a dog,” Val told him. “How do you know this is anything other than a cast-iron blob?”
The dog snorted and lowered his nose to his bowl. He licked the food again, then took a bite.
“That’s it. Good boy!” Val gushed, stroking his back. “Very good boy.”
The dog ate in tiny nibbles, but he ate. Val pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of him. She sent the picture to Jess, then scrolled through her contacts and selected Qenzi before texting and adding the photo.
Look what I have.
Qenzi responded instantly for once.
He’s so cute!!!!! What’s his name?
He doesn’t have a name. He’s going to a new home soon. As soon as his leg heals.
You don’t mean that. You’re going to keep him and take him for walks in the park, Qenzi informed her.
Val scoffed.
Nope. You should come over and meet him. I know you’re an animal person.
I totally will, but I have three Yorkies. I don’t think they’ll get along.
Qenzi bombarded her with dozens of pictures of the aforementioned Yorkies in ridiculous outfits.
“She’s insane,” Val muttered.
The dog looked up from his bowl.
“No, no. Keep eating,” Val ordered.
He gave a long-suffering sigh and returned his nose to his dinner. Val returned to her conversation, sending another text to Qenzi.
They’re cute. Weird question. The dog keeps sniffing my amulet. Why would he do that? Is he a magical creature in disguise or something?
