Page 69 of Dozer

But it wasn’t wrong to buy her a puppy so she’d want to come home to it. No threats of hurting it, just giving her two beings to come home to, instead of one.

I wanted something teddy-bear cute, but no way was I going to own a tiny little yap-dog. The few golden retrievers I’ve met have been goofy and not terribly bright, so a goldendoodle was out. Some research told me sheepadoodles usually hold onto the guard dog tendencies while also bonding to their people and being snuggly, which seemed the best of both worlds. A guard dog with protective instincts who’d be adorable and would want to sleep with Daisy when I was away from home at night. I’d make sure it was around my brothers plenty while a puppy, so it thought growing up in a neighborhood of wolves was normal.

I wasn’t supposed to pick it up for another week, when Daisy and I had three days in a row we could stay home, but the puppies were weaned and eating food, and some of them had already gone to their new homes. So, I texted the breeder as soon as I woke, told her our plans had changed and we were going to be home a few days, and asked what time that morning we could come get the newest member of our family.

She said they’d be home until they had to attend their son’s ball game that evening, so I told Daisy to put loose jeans, sandals, and a t-shirt on, no jewelry except for plain studs in her ears, her hair in a casual updo so it was contained without being dressy, and light makeup in earth tones with a touch of pink.

Figuring out the proper wording to tell her how I want her to look had been a huge learning curve, but I thought I finally had it down. Mostly, anyway.

I’d had to send her back to make changes a whole helluva lot, at first. Who knew that just telling her to put her hair up and out of the way could mean a zillion different looks?

She arrived at the breakfast table looking exactly right to go meet our new puppy for the first time, except the jeans wouldn’t do. They were nearly bleached white, they were so light, so I told her, “Dark jeans. I should’ve thought to tell you. You look positively adorable, but let’s go for something that won’t show dirt.”

Two minutes later, she was back with different jeans and different sandals, and I pointed her to sit at the table. She knows better than to assume she’ll eat at the table, even when it looks as if I’ve set a place for her. She usually does, but it isn’t a given.

“You once told me you’ve never had a dog and you’ve always wanted one. I made arrangements a few months ago, and it’s finally time to pick up our new puppy. We’ll meet him and get an idea of how his days have gone, so we can try to copy as much of it as possible, and then we’ll go to one of the big pet stores near the mall to buy everything he’s going to need. I have a list, but we might learn some other things from the breeder, so we’ll wait until we have him with us. Also, that’ll make it easier to make sure whatever collar we buy him fits. We’ll have to buy several of them, probably, while he’s growing up.”

The poor thing looked like she might explode, but she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t in formal speech restriction, but it seemed she wanted permission to speak, so I smile and gave it to her. “Speak, little Daisy.”

Instead of speaking, she came out of her chair and somehow ended up in my lap, hugging me, tears falling from her eyes.

“Thank you, Husband! I love you so much!”

Was it the Master who was buying the dog? Or the husband? I had no idea, but she wasn’t wrong to call me husband, because if I was still the Master alone, without loving her, she’d be locked in the basement and there’d be no need for the dog.

I explained my reasoning for the sheepadoodle, telling her most purebred dogs have too many genetic issues, so I’d gone straight to a mix, but I wanted a reputable breeder, and that meant going for one of the more common mixes. This was true, actually, but I only pointed it out because I was going to leave out the part where I was buying an adorable dog she couldn’t help but fall in love with.

I told her how this particular mix checked off the three things I most wanted in a breed: protectiveness with built in guard-dog traits, intelligence, and the likelihood he’d bond with all humans in the household and not become a one-person dog. Also, as a bonus, this mix tended to like to cuddle.

On the way to the breeder’s house, I finally brought up the situation with her mother. “Tell me what precipitated asking your mom along on the dress-buying excursion.”

She told me, and I scented some trepidation, but also self-confidence. She’d made a decision, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure I’d be okay with it, but she was mostly sure she’d done as I’d want her to.

And she was dead-on right about that. All of it, though she had no idea I picked up on as much as I did. That would change, later tonight.

“I’m glad she’s coming,” I told her. “You should plan to post something on social media afterwards, about spending time with your friends and your mom.” She wasn’t allowed to talk about it before the event, but she could take pictures and video, and post about it after, so long as she followed the rules and was careful about how she showed herself with the other ol’ladies.

She’d started doing makeup tutorials on social media, and she had quite the following. Soon, I’d allow her to monetize it, but not quite yet. I’d hired the social media guy as a consultant, to help me figure out how best to manage her online presence, and he said to hold off on that.

The puppies were, indeed, adorable. They were nine weeks old, and cuter than their pictures, even. The breeder kept them in a room on the back of the house, in a little fenced-in area of the room when they weren’t being supervised, and they had the run of the large space when they were supervised. There was also a fenced-in backyard, but she said they’d only been going out there a few days, because she’d wanted them to have certain shots before their feet touched the earth.

She showed us the dog food they’d been eating, and had new versions of the toys they’d had access to, so we could buy them from her.

“We’ll throw the toys you buy down so all the puppies can play with them a few minutes, and that will give your pup something that smells and looks familiar.”

Daisy called him ‘little nugget’ at first, and I pointed out he wasn’t going to be a little nugget for long. We’d met the parents before we saw the puppies, and they were quite large.

“Oh, right.” She looked at him, and then walked to the window to look out at the mom and dad in the backyard, along with another grown sheepadoodle.

“I don’t like Nugget by itself,” she said. “This is going to take some thought, to come up with the perfect name. I mean, I kind of like Oreo, but I don’t think that’s exactly right, either. He reminds me of Barkley from Sesame Street, with black in places instead of red, but that isn’t right for him, either.”

I had an idea, but I wanted to be clear this was us naming him, and not me doing so as Master, so I decided to wait until we were back in the truck to tell her my idea.

“Little Nugget is fine for now. We’ll spend the afternoon trying on different names until we come up with something we’re both happy with.”

I handed the breeder an envelope withwaymore money than I thought was acceptable for a dog, but it seemed to be the going rate, and if it gave my Daisy May more of a reason to decide to stick with me than to return to New York with her parents someday, it would be worth every penny I put into this dog.

I waited until he peed before I decreed it was time for us to go, and then we set off with the puppy in Daisy’s lap, wearing a purple collar and purple leash we got to pick from the breeder’s stash. The toys were extra to buy, but the leash and collar were included in the price of the dog.

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