Page 25 of Claimed by the Pack

She sat down on a wrought iron bench and in a high-pitched voice she said, “Go potty guy!”

Fat chance.

No way was I “going potty” in front of her, on the lawn, in front of an apartment complex, in the middle of town.

No way.

“We're going to stay out here until you go. If you go in the house, Myrna will throw us both out on our ear.”

Damn it.

Ridge is going to owe me BIG for this.

* * *

By the timeI finally “went potty” behind the building where she couldn't see me humiliate myself, Myrna had left for her picnic.

It was getting close to lunch time and as I was getting hungry.

Once we were inside, Cheyenne started making herself a turkey sandwich, and suddenly seemed to remember she hadn't given me any food since the pasta that morning.

“Oh poor Gray! What an awful pet owner I am.”

She looked down and I was staring up at her.

I trained my hungry eyes on the turkey sandwich and she smiled and said, “You hungry guy?” In the spirit of humiliating myself, I wagged my tail and panted, with my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth like a cartoon character.

She ruffled the hair on the back of my neck and said, “I'm sorry I didn't get any dog food yet. I will, I promise.”

My eyes cut back over to the turkey and she said, “I get the feeling you don't mind not having dog food, huh?”

With another laugh she tossed a few pieces of the sliced turkey into “my” bowl. I walked over to sniff it but waited until she turned to finish making her sandwich to wolf it down.

When she turned back around and looked at my bowl she said, “Wow, you were hungry. Poor thing. I promise we'll go get some dog food as soon as I finish my lunch.”

She sat down at the little kitchen table and I went over and curled up at her feet. While she ate with her left hand, she rubbed my fur absently with her right she looked like she was deep in thought. I wondered what she was thinking, but didn't have to wonder for long.

After a few minutes she said, “You're lucky,” I told Gray. I lifted my head to look at her face and she said, “Dogs don't have to worry about dating, or falling in love, or getting married. It's messy business.”

She took another bite of her sandwich. It looked delicious.

“I'm still young,” she went on, “I have a lot of time left to date and to find that special someone. But I can't help but wonder if it's going to hurt every time it doesn't work out. Don't tell anyone,” She said to me, the dog, even lowering her voice to a whisper, “I didn't have my first date until I was 19 years old and in college. I didn't even have sex until I was almost 21.”

Without even thinking about it, my ears perked up and my composure switched to attentive. I'd never had a girl tell me about her sex life before.

She was looking at me and she laughed and said, “Typical man. I mention sex and all of a sudden, you're interested.”

She wasn't mad though.

She pet me again and went on, “I discovered early on that sex was the only interest they had in me. Why is that, Gray? I think I'm a nice person, smart, kind of interesting if someone took the time to listen to what I have to say.”

I thought she was smart and interesting. I let out a little bark and she smiled sweetly and said, “You're interested, aren't you? You're a good boy. Such a good listener.” I shamelessly liked it when she called me a good boy.

She let her hand swing down in front of me with half the turkey sandwich clutched against her palm. “You want the rest, boy?” I took it, in one bite. If anyone were to judge me for it, I might just eat them too.

“I have a secret. I think I can tell you,” she said, “You won't tell anyone else, right?”

I barked again and she gave me another beautiful little laugh. I liked the sound of her being happy...maybe too much.

“I have a huge crush on a crazy man. At first, I thought it was just because he was hot, really hot. But then he kidnapped me, told me some crazy things...and despite all of that, I still ache to see him. Do you think I'm just lonely, boy? Maybe I've made up this fantasy in my head that I am able to “fix” this guy?”

I barked again and with a sad face she said, “I'm not sure there's any “fixing” for what's wrong with this guy. I don't know, maybe there's nothing wrong with him and I'm being judgmental. Everyone has their quirks, right? Everyone grows up in a certain culture, believing certain things that the rest of us don't understand or believe...maybe that's all it is with Ridge. He grew up in a whole different place.”

She laughed, but that time it wasn't a happy place.

“The problem is, I guess, that even though I saw a glimpse of that place with my own two eyes...my brain still doesn't want to believe it. I'd almost rather believe he's a liar, rather than a...” she laughed again and that time she sounded like she might cry. I hoped she didn't cry. I would have no idea what to do with a crying woman.

“I can't even say it.”

She sighed and stood up. I stood up too and rubbed my fur against her leg. Smiling down at me she said, “Thanks for listening, boy. I guess we should go put up some posters and while we're out, we'll get you some dog food, and maybe some treats.” She sounded excited about that. I couldn't imagine how I was going to choke down dog food, or God forbid, “Treats.” I also couldn't imagine how I was going to tell Ridge she still had a huge “crush” on him, when I was crushing on her myself.

---