by Theresa Weir
Of course they do.
“He’d have no reason to be looking for me. I’m nobody. I’m not even particularly good looking.”
Well, I know that.
She gasped at the insult, turning to glare at him.
But you live alone and you’re female. Bad combination.
“Says who? You’re just a dog, and a big, fat, old, lazy one at that.” Ninna couldn’t believe the words blurting off her tongue. She never talked like this. She always went out of her way to be nice.
Yeah, then you met me. If a dog could laugh, that’s what he was doing now.
Laughing. At her.
She felt ashamed of herself. He was an animal, one she was supposed to look after, not verbally abuse.
True enough. Best make up for it before I tell Stuart. More food works.
“Tell Stuart? You can talk to him, too?” Ninna brightened, loving that idea. How cool would that be if they could both talk to dogs?
Nah, not really. But he’s really good at reading us, so we make out fine. Besides, it’s not like you’re talking to just any dog, you’re talking to me.
A loud noise sounded outside. The tinkling sound rippled through the darkness as she stared out into the night. Dogs barked in the distance. Mosey joined her at the window, jumping up so his big knotty paws landed on the window ledge. He woofed once—really loud.
She stared at him in shock. She didn’t think he had it in him.
Told you. The alert guard dog woofed again.
The house woke up as all the dogs came to the guest room, running and barking. She’d left her bedroom door ajar, thinking it might help her hear the animals if they needed anything. Now her room filled with excited canines.
She grabbed up her cell phone and dialled 911.
“Gee, thanks. Like I needed all of you here,” she muttered to Mosey as she waited for someone to answer. The dogs roamed the room, barking and sniffing at everything. “And how come they can’t talk like you can?”
He sniffed. She glared at him. He did it again. What dog could make a sound like a stifled sneeze moving through gravy?
Gravy? Yum, I love gravy. Can we have gravy for breakfast?
“911, what is your emergency?”
Ninna quickly explained the situation. After giving her name, number and location—boy, she couldn’t believe how long it took to make an emergency call—she hung up. Someone would come and check out the disturbance. She just hoped that someone came fast. What if she were in her own bed right now? What if a burglar was walking off with her valuables? Not that she had much, but still… A person could die while waiting for the police to check this out.
Gravy. It’s morning, right? Food time. Walk time.
“No! It’s not morning, it’s not time for breakfast…and there’s no way in hell you’re getting gravy.”
Gravy, oh I love gravy! Mosey spun around in a circle of joy—and became sidetracked by his tail. Ninna laughed as he chased it halfway around the room. The boxer yelped. The big black three-legged lab took the opportunity to lie down beside the bed and go to sleep while the Doberman woofed several times. The smaller white dog, Goober, persisted at the window, barking his head off at the moon.
Such chaos and noise. Why had she thought having a dog would be a good idea?
Off in the distance, she could hear other dogs picking up the serenade and howling together. Did they have a doggie telegraph or something?
Still, there was no sign of a cruiser or the sound of sirens blaring to scare off intruders. Then did she want him scared off or caught? If not caught tonight, he could return when she was home alone again.
She winced, not liking the sound of that. After what she’d just seen, she might never sleep in her bed again.
Stay here, then. Move in with Stuart. He needs a girlfriend. A big happy family. Mosey panted at her feet, his chest moving so heavily she was afraid he’d have a heart attack.
I could get used to gravy for breakfast.
* * *
Where was she? She should be here. That she wasn’t, made his skin run hot and anger burn deep inside. She couldn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe she went out of town, but that would break the pattern he’d followed for months. She could have stayed at a girlfriend’s house. That would make sense.
But not really.
Anger built. Damn it. Why wasn’t she here? He stood outside her bedroom window. The curtains were partly open, enough to see the hastily tossed clothes on the undisturbed bed. She’d come home and left again instead of sleeping in her own bed. He slipped around the back to her garage. Her car was there. Stumped, he leaned against the wall and considered the options. She could have been picked up for the evening then stayed over. Or she could have walked to wherever she was now. No way to tell.
At least from the garage.
He walked over to the inside door. Locked and secured. He could disarm it and have the door open in minutes.
Excitement rippled at the thought of going in and seeing how she lived. Walking around her bedroom, checking her closets and drawers. Peering into her life… He’d already checked her mail several times. But he wanted more. The risks would be tenfold compared to what he’d done so far. He didn’t need that. He didn’t want to go back to jail.
But he wanted her. Ninna.
* * *
When Ninna opened her eyes the next morning, she moaned and slammed them closed again. What a horrible night. The cops had arrived at her door not long after the call and told her what she’d expected to hear. They hadn’t found anyone casing the neighborhood, but they would continue to patrol the area. She’d had them do a quick ‘go around’ of Stuart’s yard before they left.
Then she’d tried to go back to sleep. It had taken forever. She’d allowed the dogs to sleep in her room for an added sense of security.
Probably not the wisest idea. All of them had somehow managed to hop up onto her bed. Beside her and half on her, every square inch of the double bed was covered in a canine blanket. What was up with that?Even the little white barking thing, Goober, had taken up residence on her spare pillow. She tried to roll over, and groaned. She couldn’t budge with them holding the damn covers down.
Her phone rang at that moment. Struggling upright, she reached across doggie paws and heads to snag it from her night table, where she’d put it after her early morning call to the police.
“Good morning, Ninna. How did you make out last night?”
Stuart. Her tummy warmed and the smile on her face was so wide, she felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush. “Hi, good to hear you arrived safely. My night, yeah, that was interesting.” She gave him the rundown on the nocturnal neighborhood activity.
“Then I’m very glad to hear you stayed at my house.” His warm concern was a comfort after her frazzled night.
“I was too, until I woke up this morning. Why didn’t you warn me about the dogs being bed hogs?”
Stuart’s warm laughter reached through the phone and made her toes curl. “I never thought about it. I gather you left your door open?”
She grinned, staring at her bed again. The big black lab had stretched across the entire place where a second person would lie. Goober hadn’t moved. He, or was it she, snuffled and tucked its head in deeper. “You would not believe my bed right now. I can barely move.”
“You’re still in bed?” His voice deepened and a whole new element entered. God, he was sexy.
She murmured back, willing to play, “I am. You’ve deputized your dogs as my bed mates.”
“Ha! I’m coming home early then. Damn, are they all there?”
She sighed as the boxer kicked his legs out, shifting her own heavier legs against the lab. “Oh, yeah, they are all here.” Mosey had sprawled along the bottom of the bed, lying on his back, all four feet pointed to the ceiling, grinning at her. She was so not going there.
“Good thing you’re just a little bit of a thing. Otherwise there’d be no room.”
She snickered. “The
re is no room. I forgot the lab’s name, but he’s taking up half the bed himself.”
“That’s Ticker. He used to belong to an older guy who passed away. Ticker spent the bulk of his life alone and didn’t adapt well to the noise and confusion at the Center. That’s why he goes in daily to learn social skills.”
“Hmm. So when are you coming home?”
“I was due to speak tomorrow, but they’ve shifted things around and now my talk is today. I’m scheduled to stay overnight, but home is sounding pretty damn good right now.” His voice deepened again, leaving innuendos hanging in the air. “I won’t be able to make a decision until I see if I’m expected to attend tomorrow. Otherwise, I might leave after dinner. I’d still be very late, if I make it at all, though, so please stay. I like the idea of you sleeping in my house, my bed.”
There it was again, that deeply sexual undertone that headed straight to her libido. “I’m sleeping in your spare bed not in your bed,” she teased.
“For the moment. Think of me today.”
He rang off, leaving her staring down at the phone in her hand. How could she not stay the night after that comment? Of course, that’s exactly why he’d done it.
Gravy time?
“No gravy for you. You should be on a diet. Look at you—your rolls almost kiss the ground when you walk.” She struggled to sit up, shifting dogs as necessary.
More to love. Diets are a human issue. What animals would willingly deprive themselves of what they love?
“People are health conscience. You should be, too.” Speaking of which, breakfast sounded good to her. She hoped Stuart had something decent in the fridge. She hadn’t even looked last night because she’d scarfed a quick bite at her house.
Exactly. Gravy? It’s one of the main food groups.
She stared down at Mosey. “You’re a joke. Besides there isn’t any gravy in the house.”
You can make some. Stuart does.
He does?” She loved the idea of man who could cook. “Maybe I do need to get to know him better.”
Mosey nodded his head, jowls flapping in the windy movement. She had to laugh. If he’d been human he’d be a stand-up comic.
If I were human, I’d be eating gravy.
Chapter 5
Ninna shooed the dogs off the bed and headed downstairs where she let them out into the yard. After a shower and a slow getting-dressed session, Ninna made up the bed. She didn’t know if she’d be sleeping here again tonight or not. Last night had been a unique experience. She’d slept with several two-legged animals over the course of her relationships, but never four-legged ones.
Downstairs, she grabbed her instructions and doled out breakfast, then called the dogs in. The feeding of the dogs went faster this time and she felt more comfortable with the dogs’ antics. When Tiny finished his meal, she couldn’t resist picking him up and taking her cup of tea to the living room for an extended cuddle. He didn’t appear to mind.
Sitting there, she had an insight into a world she’d never considered before. With a pet, there was someone to cuddle, someone to talk to, someone for company. On crappy days, you had to get up to look after a pet, because, as she was learning, pets require care. They gave you purpose in life.
She supposed it might sound sad to other people to hear about someone like her, twenty-six, employed and single, without a ton of friends—most had moved away in the last year. She wasn’t a huge fan of the social networking sites either. She’d prefer to have friends close by to do things with. However, as she wasn’t overwhelmed with too many of those, a pet or two might be nice—two, because then they’d have each other for company if she went out.
Walk. It’s walk time. Mosey planted himself in front of her.
“But I haven’t eaten yet.”
Too bad, so sad. We need to go for a walk.
“Crap.” But she got up, took Tiny back to his basket and headed out the back door.
The dogs burst out the door, tails wagging and noses in the air, happy to check out the world. They started their regular day with more enthusiasm than she did on a good day. She stood in the sunshine, drinking her tea while the dogs explored.
Ten minutes later, she was pulled out of her peaceful reverie.
That’s great. Now it’s time to go for a walk. We need our exercise.
“I can’t take all of you for a walk at the same time. That is not going to work. You guys will drag me all over the place.”
She remembered something about that in Stuart’s instructions. She went back inside and snatched up what amounted to her animal care bible. “So Brie, the boxer, and Goober, the white mop, require leashes but the rest are good and stay close.” She snickered. “Like I’m going to believe that.”
You should. We go out all the time.
“Okay. I’m willing, definitely not eager, but let’s take a walk over to my house and see if that guy caused any damage last night. If everyone behaves, I’ll consider a trip to the park afterwards.”
The park. The park. We’re going to the park.
As she grabbed up the leashes, excitement swept through the dogs. She decided to follow Stuart’s instructions and take them out together, but if the first experiment went wrong, it would be relays until he returned.
Two dogs came running at the sound of the leash chains. She presumed they were the right ones as there were no other takers. By the time she had the two leashed, all were twisting and wiggling with joy. At least she was making them happy.
She opened the front door, and all the dogs jumped outside barking. Great. Now the neighbors were going to be mad at her for making so much noise. She walked slowly so the dogs could do their thing, sniffing and wandering around as they were wont to do. And was Mosey rolling in the grass? She hoped not. She kept walking, but looked back when she’d gone forward a dozen feet. He still lay there.
“Mosey, come on.”
Why? It’s nice here.
“No, it’s not. If you’re tired and need a nap already, then it’s time to go home. You can sleep the rest of the day inside. And I’ll need to cut your meals down, as you must be more out of shape than I thought.”
Mosey rolled over and struggled to his feet. His fat, squat body looked bulldoggish, matching the stubborn look on his face.
Shoulda given me gravy for breakfast. It gives me energy.
“Like hell,” she muttered, finally realizing she was outside and although people talked to their pets all the time, she didn’t want to appear crazy to any passersby. At the crosswalk, she called the dogs to her side and made it across in one piece. Of course, it was a small town and traffic was light at this hour on a Saturday morning.
Once on the other side of the road, it was only a few minutes to her yard. She walked around the outside first. Thankfully, there were no broken windows, and as far as she could see, nothing had been disturbed. She didn’t want to make an insurance claim. She could barely afford the premiums now.
Unlocking the door, she pushed it wide open and ushered the dogs inside. Once in, she took off the two leashes so the dogs wouldn’t get tangled. Her house seemed impossibly full. Skirting the moving bodies and wagging tails, she checked out her living room—normal like everything else. She walked through the kitchen, only sorry the neighborhood intruder hadn’t washed her dishes while she was gone. It was the least he could have done for disturbing her night’s rest.
After a quick trip to her bathroom she doubled-checked her bedroom. Again, everything appeared normal. Sighing with relief, she realized how bothered she’d been. She navigated through the chaos of animals until she was back in her tiny kitchen.
She washed her dishes and enjoyed an hour in her own space, began a load of laundry, checked her messages and even called Jane. No answer. That figured. It was Saturday and Jane wouldn’t be out of bed for hours yet.
Finally, with her chores done, she turned to survey the living room and had to laugh. Dogs lolled wherever they’d found space.
There was a large park
about a block away. She could go down the alley and around the corner to avoid cars. The park would be perfect. No traffic, almost no people and a wide open space for the dogs to run.
Yes, let’s do it.
“Damn. I forgot you can read my mind.”
Yes, and now I know. Park, park, park. His chant turned to a half howl and before she knew it, the rest of the dogs were on their feet, staring at her standing there holding their leashes in her hand.
“Okay, fine,” she shouted, “but we have to come back later and switch over the laundry.”
Mosey headed to the back door.
Whatever. Park, park, park.
* * *
The park was mostly empty, but then she wasn’t walking on the normal pathways. She thought the dogs would prefer the wooded area along the side. As she enjoyed the stroll, she wondered about the many unanswered phone messages she’d left for her old shrink.
Somehow, the concept of a talking dog didn’t bother her quite so much anymore.
Just then, Mosey stopped and threw her a jowly grin, making her roll her eyes. “I’m not saying that I like talking to you, because you don’t actually talk. At least not out loud.” She paused and wondered. “At least I don’t think so. You’re talking in my head, so maybe I’m making you up and maybe not. Either way, I’m the only person affected, so, I can choose how I respond to you.”
If only you’d learn to talk back to me in your head when we’re in public.
She laughed. “Yeah, if only.”
At the park, she unclipped the leashes and let the dogs roam. She wandered along the edge of the trees, enjoying the unusual experience. For the first time, she had to wonder if it really was bad to be talking with an imaginary friend—even if it were a dog. Sure, having more real friends would help, but in lieu of the real thing, was this so bad? Of course Mosey didn’t quite fit the bill. He was real flesh and blood. Not imaginary. Still, telepathic dogs must come under the heading of ‘imaginary.’
Maybe she should just give it a rest and accept what she was experiencing. If and when her shrink decided to respond to her messages, she could make a decision about seeing him or not. Besides, by then, maybe Mosey wouldn’t be talking anymore.
