“He looks hungry,” she said. “Have you fed him?”
I blinked. “No. What does he eat?”
“Dog food, of course. Tell me you at least put down a bowl of water.” She looked around. “Don’t you know anything about animals?”
“When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t expecting to acquire a dog. I’ll get him some food. There’s one of those big chains around the corner from the Laundromat. I see people taking their dogs in there. Billy can go, too.”
“Never. It’s much too cold for him. Isn’t it, puppy boy?”
“Hey, if I’m going out in it, he can, too.”
“You’re wearing a coat.”
“So is he. It’s not too far, and he can poop on the way. He has to poop and pee, right?”
“I’ll go, too.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Corinne. It isn’t safe out there for you.”
“Not safe?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m already dead. What else could happen?”
I wasn’t sure how much to say, so I settled for, “I saw some weird things today.” Like soul-eating demons. “I think you should stay here where it’s warm and comfortable.”
“Like I care about that. Remember the part about being dead? I’m coming with you. You can’t stop me.”
She had me there, and she knew it. She could follow me all over the world and yap in my ear until I went crazy. “Promise me that if I tell you to run, you’ll do it.”
* * * *
The second Billy saw the leash come out, he raced in circles, making little snork-snork noises.
I poked my head out first to make sure the coast was clear. The rain had eased up, but the sidewalks were still slick. Canterbury Park is a little more pedestrian-friendly than Dallas, and there was a fair amount of foot traffic for the wretched weather. Folks darted in and out of the shopping along the trendy square filled with boutiques and niche markets. I passed the square by and continued on to the less trendy, but heavily trafficked chain stores. They weren’t pretty, but they had what I needed.
Along the way I stayed on alert for potential demons or other nasties, but I didn’t see anything scarier than the guy in a dirty down jacket arguing loudly with himself as he jaywalked through traffic.
Deftly dodging the spray from vehicles swooshing through puddles, we arrived at Petland only moderately cold and wet. Billy immediately remedied his wetness with a thorough shaking, managing to do to me what the traffic hadn’t.
“Gee thanks,” I muttered, brushing at the muddy slush on my clothes. He took the time to shake each paw and lick his balls before agreeing to accompany me through the store.
He pin-balled down the aisles, snuffling with pleasure, hiked a leg and watered a sack of cat food. A hasty look around assured me that this had gone unnoticed.
Who knew there were so many types of dog food? Three aisles? Were they kidding?
“He likes this one.” Corinne floated near the sacks. “He likes the chicken flavor. And this gravy over the top. It has vitamins for a shiny coat.”
I checked the prices. “No freaking way.”
“Can I help you?” A woman in a blue smock with handy pockets for treats stood at the ready. “What’s your baby’s name?” She bent over to Billy, who flopped over exposing his belly. She rubbed it as he snork-snorked appreciatively.
“His name is Billy. I’m looking for dog food,” I said. Duh. “I don’t know what kind to get.”
“I just told you,” Corinne said.
I ignored her. “I adopted him today, and I’ve never had a dog before.”
I obviously said the magic words, because the clerk lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Oh, how wonderful! That is wonderful. Good for you. You saved a life today.” She beamed at me. “Now this is what the vet recommends.” She pointed to the same pricey bags Corinne had tried to steer me toward.
“Hah!” Corinne said.
“Why is it so expensive?”
“It’s very balanced nutrition.”
“What’s wrong with this kind?” I pointed to a yellow bag. “I see them on TV.”
The clerk gave me a pitying look. “Nothing wrong with it, if you don’t mind feeding your dog corn and fillers.”
“Corn is bad?”
“It’s a common allergen. It adds bulk to the food, but it isn’t digestible. So you know what that means.” She looked meaningfully at Billy’s rear. “What goes in must come out.”
“Gotcha. So this expensive stuff makes less poop.”
“Exactly.” She gave me a huge smile. She had me, and she knew it. I looked at the prices and shook my head again. For that price, Billy had better shit gold bricks.
I had thought I would buy a little sack of food for a few days and maybe a water dish, because he wasn’t drinking out of my good china. Turns out, my arms couldn’t carry everything I ended up with. Billy needed food and the gravy for his coat—if the food was so balanced, why did he need supplements—a dog bed that was guaranteed to be rip-tear proof, chewy treats and toys to keep him from destroying my apartment, pooper-scooper supplies. Ugh.
I balked when it came to buying animal parts for him to gnaw on. I said no to pig’s ears and cow hooves. Billy was thrilled with the bins of bones and bits. His smashed-up little nose was going crazy whuffling and snorking.
“What’s that?” I pointed to a long, slender thing that looked an oddly shaped rawhide chew. “A bull stick?”
Andrea blushed and whispered in my ear.
“Ew! Who buys things like that?” Dog lovers had a lot to answer for in my book.
I left with my arms laden with packages and my bank account considerably lighter.
Corinne was insufferable all the way home. Where’s a demon when you need one?
Chapter 5
I woke the next morning with two thoughts. First: I had no place to go. No one was expecting me to show up anywhere. I could lie in bed all day long and no one would care or would even miss me, which was both liberating and depressing. Second: The whining at the door was a dog, and if I didn’t take him outside immediately, he would do something vile to my carpet, assuming he hadn’t already.
So much for lying in bed. I pulled on some ugly sweats, jammed a wooly striped hat on my head and grabbed a leash. Billy danced at the door, snuffling with either joy or desperation. It all looks the same on a pug.
A quick peek outside showed me the coast was again clear. I opened the door wider and Billy darted out, half-dragging me through the parking lot. He stopped abruptly, sniffed and watered the tires of the closest SUV. Then he started to squat.
I panicked and dragged him over to the row of scraggly evergreens that passes for landscaping. I should have scooped the poop and taken the evidence away, but I’d left the supplies inside, and quite frankly the prospect was too horrible to face first thing in the morning.
I glanced at the steaming pile. There were little bits of blue in it that resembled the color of my towels. I thought I had left a washcloth in the bathroom yesterday.
This was the dog that needed forty-dollar dog food? So far he had eaten toilet paper, a pillow and