3
“Well,” Jem said, “I love animals. My boyfriend and I both do. He’s a veterinarian.”
“Oh my God.” The girl—who, Jem guessed, would technically be his boss—looked like she was maybe nineteen years old. She was wearing a lot of foundation, and the tips of her hair had a greenish tinge like she spent too much time in the pool. “That’s so cute!”
It wasn’t clear if Jem having a boyfriend was cute, or if his boyfriend being a veterinarian was cute. But he decided to lean into it. “Oh yeah, it’s the best. Especially because we have a Lab.”
“Labs are the best!” The girl declared. “I love Labs.”
“Ours is named Scipio, and he’s so sweet.”
“You should totally bring him! Oh my gosh, I wish you’d brought him today!”
The doggy daycare was called Not On the Couch, and it was located kitty-corner to a Home Depot. The girl’s name was Kayleigh. She’d spelled it for Jem, just in case he couldn’t tell how unique it was.
He and Tean had agreed that maybe networking wasn’t the way to go. And filling out applications online, sending in resume after resume, staring at a screen until his head hurt—that definitely wasn’t the way to go.
Why don’t you do something you’re passionate about? Tean had said. Why don’t you try something you enjoy?
Because you made fifteen dollars an hour when you did something you enjoyed.
The money doesn’t matter, Tean said. What matters is that you’re happy.
Which was such a Tean thing to say. And a way to avoid the thing neither of them wanted to say: that Jem obviously wasn’t cut out for a real job.
So, here he was. In spite of Tean’s final question: Are you sure working with dogs is a good idea?
The answer was yes. Obviously. Because it would be pretty sweet if Jem could bring Scipio to work with him.
“You’ve got the job!” the girl announced.
Jem waited a beat too long. “I do?”
“Oh my gosh, of course! We are so short staffed. Can you start today?”
“Today?
“You can start right now!”
She jumped up from her seat, opened a cardboard box that had been pushed to the corner of the office, and pulled out a DayGlo-orange T-shirt that said NOT ON THE COUCH, with a little cartoon of a dog who was clearly thinking about piddling on the couch.
“Don’t you want to check my references—” Jem began.
“You’re perfect! Come on!”
Jem was all for cutting through the bullshit in life, but he was pretty sure that when you had a real job, you had to fill out paperwork. He was one hundred percent sure—because Tean had made such a big deal out of it—that you had to think about taxes.
But Kayleigh was already leading the way out of the office, so Jem squirmed into the T-shirt and followed.
She led him through the lobby and into a plain hallway that smelled like dog pee.
Doors led off the hall, and she pointed them out as she went.
“Staff bathroom—don’t let anybody else use it, even if it’s an emergency—break room, you can put your stuff in there, kennels, back door, fun house, and playpen. ”
“Fun house?”
“That’s for the little dogs. Playpen is for the big dogs. Now, I was thinking you could start—”
Jem was proud of himself for all the progress he’d made with dogs. But he was still faster than Kayleigh when he said, “Maybe fun house first,” he said. “Just because it’s my first day.”
“Totally!”
And fun house was, actually, pretty fun.
Kayleigh introduced him to the dogs, which mostly consisted of Jem being swarmed, dogs jumping on his shins, climbing over each other to sniff his hands, circling behind him to nudge the backs of his knees.
And then Kayleigh chirped goodbye and disappeared, and Jem was on his own.
At first, Jem kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Something, he was sure, was going to ruin everything.
But an hour crept by. Then two. There was no asshole boss.
There were no bickering coworkers. He was a little confused about why Kayleigh was so badly understaffed—from what he could tell, it was just the two of them.
But the job itself seemed fine. Better than fine. It was cake.
Besides, the dogs were super cute. There was a King Charles Spaniel named Shaggy who followed Jem around all day.
Every time Jem stopped moving, she flopped onto her back and started moaning for belly scratches.
With Christmas coming up, Kayleigh explained, they were doing photo shoots for the dogs, which meant the most demanding part of Jem’s day was getting the reindeer antlers to stay on Terrence (a Frenchie).
He got to play keep-away with Beau the Beagle, and twice he ended up with Pop-Tart, a Boston Terrier, asleep in his lap.
The only problem was Liesel.
Liesel was approximately ten pounds of bulging eyes, undisguised rage, and snapping teeth.
Liesel nipped Shaggy out of pure meanness.
Liesel pushed Beau out of the way to get to a toy.
Liesel went ape-shit, snarling and snapping and chasing Pop-Tart half across the room, when it was time for treats.
“Hey, Kayleigh,” Jem said into the walkie she’d given him. “Liesel is being kind of rough with the other dogs.”
“No problem,” Kayleigh said. “She just needs a little break in the kennels.”
“Right.” Jem considered the dachshund. “Um, how?”
“Easy-peasy. You just use one of the slip leashes, and she’ll go right with you.”
“Uh huh,” Jem said.
He found one of the slip leashes. But as soon as he started moving toward Liesel, the little dog braced herself, bared her teeth, and started to growl.
“Hey there,” Jem said in his most soothing voice. “Hey, you’re okay. I’m your buddy. Remember I gave you a treat?”
Liesel’s growl got louder. She was practically vibrating with it.
Jem stopped moving. He considered the dog. He said, “Okay, here’s the thing. Yes, you’re scary. Yes, you’ve got really sharp teeth. But you’re also about the size of a hot dog bun. And I’m a human. I’m big, and I’m strong, and I’m brave.”
Which honestly might have helped more if it didn’t sound so much like something he might have said to a kindergartner.
Drawing a deep breath, Jem loosened the loop on the slip leash and leaned down.
Liesel snapped.
“Shit, damn, shit, fuck, shit,” Jem said as he stumbled back a step.
And then they were back to square one.
Jem rubbed his chest. Sweat prickled on the back of his neck.
“Okay, new plan. No leash.” And then the idea floated up to him from the not-so-distant past. “How about this? Gentlemen’s agreement.
Well, lady and gentleman’s agreement, I guess.
But same principle: I trust you, and you don’t make me look like an idiot. ”
Liesel just bared her little teeth.
He got a treat. He lured Liesel toward the gate.
Liesel waddled after him, snapping at Pop-Tart when he came too close.
Jem opened the gate, fending off Beau with one foot until Liesel could slip through. He shut the gate, hopped over, and opened the door to the hallway.
Then several things happened at once.
A wash of cold air hit him.
Daylight painted the wall.
Kayleigh said, “Jem, grab her!”
And Liesel sprinted into the hall, between Kayleigh’s legs, and out the back door.