Chapter 5
Cara
I’d never given much thought to having a pet.
Sure, when I was younger, I would have loved one, but my mom hated the idea of fur buildup. I even tried to convince her to let me get one of those hairless cats, thinking that was the answer to all my prayers, but she turned that down too. Eventually, I stopped asking.
Now that I’m living on my own, I don’t know why I hadn’t considered it before, because honestly, I’m loving having an animal here. So maybe he’s a little bigger than I would have chosen for myself, but that just means there’s more to snuggle.
With him all cleaned up, he doesn’t really fit the typical wolf image like I originally thought.
Besides, he’s too well-behaved to be a wolf, which just makes me think someone out there is looking for him.
The collar he wears is a clear indicator he has an owner, too, but there’s no name or contact info on it anywhere.
I brought him out with me yesterday to put some flyers up, but it’s been twenty-four hours and no one has contacted me.
Secretly, I hope no one does.
The longer he stays with me, the more I want him here.
We’ve fallen into a good routine. Over the last two days I’ve tested out different names to see if we can find one he likes, but it’s a work in progress.
So far, he hates the option I tried yesterday, Tank, and this morning he literally gagged when I suggested Moose. Gagged!
Who knew dogs could be so picky?
We’ve upgraded his bed from a pile of blankets on the floor to his taking over the spare bedroom. It’s not like I ever really used it for anything anyway. Reagan rarely stays here, and I don’t think my mom has ever stepped foot in this building aside from her initial inspection of the place.
My new dog likes to lounge on the couch while I do yoga in the morning, too.
At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted him on the furniture because, yes, I can admit that constantly cleaning up pet hair isn’t my idea of a good time, but he never seems to leave any behind.
Hell, there’s more of my hair left in the brush when I’m getting ready than I ever find on the couch after he’s laid on it.
He’s taken to eating my food scraps, like leftover eggs or other cooked meat, and when I have to go somewhere that he can’t go, he never makes a mess of my apartment like I’ve heard in the horror stories of other pet owners.
My shoes and pillows are always perfectly intact when I come home.
I guess that’s mostly with puppies though, I think, and my dog is definitely not that.
I don’t think he’s old, but there’s something about him that screams mature adult.
The best part of having him here, though, is just how well he can sense my moods.
It’s almost therapeutic how he can tell what I’m feeling without my having to say a word.
Like right now, as I walk through the door after a terrible afternoon with my mom.
I kick off my shoes and drop my purse haphazardly on the floor, then head straight to my room, where I flop down face-first on the bed.
Blissful solitude.
Sometimes I hate my mother. She has such high expectations of me and doesn’t even care what I want.
Maybe Reagan is right and I should just tell her to fuck off.
I’m pretty sure she’d disown me, but my best friend doesn’t think so.
I’m her only offspring, after all. Besides, how would that make her look to her posh, sophisticated friends?
Maybe someday I’ll be strong enough to stand up for myself.
Through my thoughts, I hear my currently nameless dog as he steps into the room, but I don’t move to acknowledge him. I have no more energy left for pleasantries after having to fake it all afternoon for mommy dearest.
Today was even harder than usual because of what happened on Friday.
I lucked out that the small cut is hidden by my hairline, otherwise I might have had to cancel.
You’d think a parent would be exactly the person to talk to about this, but not mine.
She’d somehow find a way to blame me for Brad’s behavior and probably force me to finish out the year via online classes at home, where she could ensure I wouldn’t get myself into any more trouble.
Reagan’s idea looks better and better every day.
The bed dips as my dog jumps up beside my listless form on the bed, and still I don’t move. That’s when I feel something heavy drape across my back.
Did he…?
I pop one eye open and find him using his teeth and paws to cover me in a blanket. It makes me want to cry. He snuggles up next to me, and I shift, curling my body into his with a whispered, “thank you.” He gives my chin a lick before resting his massive head on my hip.
I don’t know how long we stay like this, but the small bit of affection is already improving my mood.
We stare at each other, and I wish I knew what he was thinking.
How does he know exactly what to do to make me feel better?
With his warm body near mine and the soft blanket covering me, I feel safe. Protected. Loved.
The complete opposite of how I felt with my mom all day.
Maybe I should have gotten a pet long before now. Though something tells me it’s not just any pet that could do this. It’s this one and the bond we formed after everything that happened in the woods.
This might just be the quickest my day has ever turned around after seeing my mother.
I wonder if I can bring him home with me for spring break.
She’d freak out, but I get the strangest sense that my sweet, massive giant wouldn’t let her berate me for even a second.
Not that I want him to eat her the way he probably, most likely, did to Brad, but I wouldn’t mind the extra backup.
In a sudden burst of energy, I tackle the dog beside me, covering his body with mine as I hug him fiercely. He grunts in surprise but doesn’t fight me off. When I start rubbing his belly and peppering his face with kisses, it almost looks like he smiles.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper, pausing as if he’ll answer. But of course I can. Who’s he going to tell? I bury my face against his neck, breathing in the mixed scent of my shampoo and the smoky, dying embers of a fire. “I hope no one claims you. That way I can keep you with me forever.”
I sound like a crazy, psychopathic kidnapper, but somehow, I can’t find it in me to care.
I kiss him once more, and he releases a sort of contented grumble that makes a smile spread across my face. “Oh! I got you something on my way home.”
He follows me from the room, still limping a little.
If it doesn’t get better, I’ll have to take him to the vet.
His eyes follow my movements as I dig around in my purse until I pull out some natural dog cookies I found at the store.
There’s a mix of heart and bone shapes, and as I tear open the bag, they actually smell pretty damn tasty.
I take one out and give it to him, watching as he chews.
“Is it good?” I ask, but all he does is lick his lips. That’s enough of a yes for me.
Grabbing one more treat, I say, “Okay, hold still,” then I place the treat on top of his nose. It looks so tiny resting on his snout. Fucking adorable. He looks wholly unimpressed, but I snap a photo anyway, then take one of the two of us. On the screen, his golden eyes shine as if lit from within.
“Good boy,” I say when I’m finished. He must take that as a sign to eat, because he snaps his head back, tossing the treat in the air, and then stands on his back legs to reach it. Holy shit. I know he’s tall on all fours, but when he stands on his hind legs, he’s massive.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kinda terrifying?
” I ask him, but when he doesn’t answer—because hello, he’s a dog—I head to the couch and pat the empty spot beside me.
We pick out a movie together, which really just means I try to translate the odd grunts and growls.
Who knows if he really cares or just thinks I’m crazy.
This dog could literally eat me if he thought I was annoying, but I’m still here, so I must be doing something right.
While I set a bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and drape a blanket over us, I say, “Classes start tomorrow, so I’ll be gone most of the day, but I’ll come home on my lunch to check on you. Does that sound good?” He licks my hand, and I take that as a yes.
Despite the scary shit that happened with Brad—who I still haven’t seen or heard from since Friday, so it’s entirely possible my dog did in fact eat him—I have a really good feeling about the future.