Then, eventually, Hiro showed up. He struggled to run on his stubby little legs with his big belly, so we played a game where I coaxed him into chasing me around the yard. Fear of missing out was real, so Eb and Poppy joined in.
Chili sat on the back deck, lazing in the sun, and watched us as if we were all a little loopy.
Xandra came and peered out at us through the glass, then yawned and wandered off to her hard job of napping on the window ledge.
Still no Cheyenne. Do I go and wake her? Let her sleep? Is she going to bolt again? How can I keep her safe? And while we’re on the topic…why the fuck is she here?
After a solid hour of exercise and some recall training, my troop was pooped.
We trudged into the kitchen, where I doled out one small sliver of freeze-dried salmon each in exchange for a nice calm sit. Well, for Xandra that was in exchange for not jumping on the counter. Nobody looked satisfied with my paltry offerings, but when I herded us back into the family room, everyone followed.
Twain even deigned to join us—having shown up just in time for his treat.
I plopped onto the floor, then lay on my back so everyone who wanted to could lick, cuddle, and get close.
Chili was first in there, tucking herself under one of my arms.
Poppy, not to be outdone, licked my cheek before nuzzling my hair.
I giggled as Hiro tried to flop on my chest. “Uh, squishing me there, buddy.” I eased him to the side opposite Chili and scritched his ears.
The cat retreated to her high perch, eyeing our messy dogpile with sleepy blue eyes.
Eb chose not to partake and, instead, found a flavored plastic bone to gnaw on.
Jett, not to be outdone, chose one for himself.
I had ten so there were plenty to go around, but I kept my eye on Arthur’s dogs in case someone was toy-possessive. Sometimes two dogs wanted the same one, and we might get some snarling that would be a warning all toys had to be picked up. Eb seemed chill, though, and the other two weren’t interested.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.” Cheyenne spoke quietly.
Chili lost her shit.
I petted her. “Oh hush, baby girl. You met my sister yesterday.” I almost called her Chey again—my nickname for her when she’d been a baby. Well, she wasn’t a baby anymore.
Eb loped over to Cheyenne for scritches, and Twain nudged her leg.
Not to be outdone, Poppy, Hiro, and Jett all ambled over to the stranger.
Eb, Twain and Hiro viewed every human as someone to manipulate into handing over treats so I reminded her—“No treats for any of them, okay? I have them on a tight schedule.”
Cheyenne plopped onto the floor crosslegged and was immediately set upon by pooches. Protocols of introducing new dogs flitted through my mind, but they were doing well.
If Maisie the mastiff was here, things would be different. Same with George, who, although he loved people, still needed a gentle hello.
Poppy, Jett, and Hiro just loved everyone, and their easygoing nature made them great company.
Chili stayed at my side, but her displeasure subsided.
Watching my sister with the dogs, I admitted, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Our gazes locked.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah, I can see why.” She waved her hand around the space. “Did the money help with this place?”
“Downpayment and renovations, yes.” I didn’t want to talk about the settlement because that way led to the pain of what I’d been through in order to get that money.
“Better than if they got it.”
