“I got to pet him a bit.” I kept my voice soft. “He’s spooky.”
“Yeah, I’d name him Spooky, but I don’t want to jinx him. You want some lunch?”
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“I feed my friends when they help out.”
He also didn’t have to twist my arm. I’d had trail mix for breakfast. I got up slowly but the cat still dashed back into his safe bed-box in the cat condo.
Arthur latched his door. “He’s had enough treats for one day anyhow. Come on.”
We were standing at the counter in the kitchen, with Arthur making sandwiches, when a pickup truck came to a stop in his driveway.
“Hey,” I said. “Someone you know?”
He craned to see out, hands full of mayo jar and cold cuts. “No. You want to see what they need while I get this stuff back in the fridge?”
“Sure.” I squeezed through the front vestibule door without letting an eager Twain get past my shin. After shutting the inner door firmly, I stepped outside onto the porch. A middle-aged man got out of the truck, looking around, and I said, “Can I help you?”
“Are you Arthur?”
“Nope. What do you need him for?”
“I was told he might help me. It’s this dog.” Before I could reply, he opened the passenger door and lifted down a fluffy, ratty-looking, medium-sized dog with a rope for a collar and leash.
Arthur came up beside me. “I’m Arthur, but I don’t have room for another dog.”
“Shit.” The man’s shoulders sagged. “She’s my neighbor’s. She’s pregnant, and he says he’s moving and can’t afford to take her. I saw him loading her up and asked what he was doing, and he said he was gonna take her to a local farm and let her loose.”
Arthur rubbed his face. “Yeah, because a pregnant Elkhound can just fend for herself.”
“Right? I told him that was a douchy thing to do, but he said he couldn’t find anyone to take her. So I said I’d try, but the vet had no room and Pam at the local foster thing said no. A buddy said you took fosters, so I figured I’d ask.” He patted the dog and she panted up at him, looking happy. “She’s super sweet, but I’m allergic and my wife hates mess.” He raised his hand, showing off a handful of gray hair. “She’s shedding a lot.”
“Pregnancy hormones,” Arthur said. “But I can’t. If you drive her down to the Oceanside Humane Society, they might squeeze her in.”
“Can you do it? I need to get back to work and my sinuses are clogging up already. Look, just take her. Do whatever with her.” He held out the end of the rope.
Arthur pivoted, turning his back on the man, staring blankly at his little house. He squeezed his eyes shut, his brow furrowed, then I saw a tear escape and run down his cheek. He dragged his sleeve across his face.
Fuck this.“I’ll take her,” I said.
“You don’t have a place for her,” Arthur rasped without looking at me.
“Sure, I do. Theo’s place. He said I was welcome, was the caretaker. He told the cops that, so he can’t kick me out now. There’s lots of room. She can go in the laundry room or the women’s bathroom or wherever. Lots of choices. It ain’t heated, but she’s got plenty of fur. And I have some money. I can buy a bag of dog food.” My stomach did loop-the-loops at the idea of going back to the wine place, even without Theo there, but the dog was looking at me with big brown eyes and Arthur was fuckingcrying.
“I don’t know…”
The man ignored Arthur and hurried over to me with the dog in tow. He thrust the end of the rope into my hand. “Here. Her name’s Foxy.” He pivoted as if to rush off.
“Wait!” Arthur grabbed his arm. “If we’re doing this, you need to sign a legal surrender form, so no one can come back and say I stole her.”
“I would never.”
Arthur pointed at the ground, frowning darkly. “Stay right there. I’ll be back.”
As the front door closed behind Arthur, the stranger said, “A bit intense, isn’t he?”
“You would be too, if you took in the number of strays he does.” The dog leaned against my knee. I stroked her soft ears. “How old is she? Who’s the puppy dad?”
