Page 53 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

“Uh, yes. And she is Celia’s friend?” she asks. I ignore her question because I know what she’s thinking. Shit, I need to pull off this motherfucking enormous Band-Aid and tell her how I feel. I wasn’t planning on doing this today, but sometimes the best things are not planned. She grabs her laptop and sends me a file, which I immediately forward to Tiffany.

She pulls a stuffed dog against her chest, and an idea comes to me. It’s the craziest idea I’ve had in ages.

“Come on, I need your help,” I say to her as I stand and reach for her hand. She complies and follows me down to my car.

“Where are we going?” she asks. I grin.

“You’ll see,” I say.

“Seriously? It’s gonna be like that?”

“Yep,” I reply as I drive us to a place, I know will cheer us both up, the animal shelter that I donate to. I usually stop by there every few weeks with stuff for them. I, in fact, have a box of paper towels and some old sheets in the trunk of my car. Lark’s come with me before, and we usually have a blast playing with puppies and kittens.

She laughs with delight when we turn down the road for the shelter. “Good call,” she says with a giant smile on her face.

We walk into the shelter and a volunteer named Katie greets us. “Hey, Lincoln,” she says warmly. I place the box on the counter.

“Have any animals in need of love today?” I ask her. She laughs.

“We always do. Follow me,” she says as she leads us down to the dog kennels.

The second the door opens to the kennels, there’s barking and whining from the dogs. Katie leads us toward the back. When we turn the corner toward the section for dogs that were just brought in and aren’t yet available for adoption, we come face-to-face with the cutest puppy I’ve seen in ages. It can’t be more than eight weeks old, it’s a German shepherd and has the biggest ears I’ve ever seen on a puppy.

“This is Asher. We think he’s maybe seven weeks old. He was found on the side of the road. His name means fortunate or lucky because, if that person hadn’t found him, he’d likely have been hit by a car,” Katie explains.

“Can we…?” I ask her. She nods.

“He’ll need some training, but his medical test just came back and, aside from being on a de-wormer and some special dog food to gain weight, he’s doing really well,” she says. “You guys want to take him out to the yard? He needs some exercise,” she adds.

“Absolutely!” Lark and I both exclaim simultaneously.

“Jinx,” we both say and giggle as Katie puts a leash on Asher and hands it to me.

“Come on, Asher. Let’s go play,” I say to him. His tail wags as we lead him out to a large fenced-in yard area. I find a giant toy bone and toss it, letting Asher off the leash so he can chase after it. He trips over his feet which are way too big for him but runs after it despite his clumsiness.

We laugh.

“OMG! He’s sooo cute!” Lark says.

“He is pretty fucking cute,” I agree.

He reaches the bone but can’t manage to pick it up because it’s too big for him. Lark walks over to help him, but just as she reaches him, he manages to get the bone in his mouth and shakes his head. The bone goes sailing out of his mouth and into Lark’s forehead, knocking her to the ground. I run over to Lark, but Asher has me beat. He’s already on top of her licking her face. She’s giggling and rubbing her forehead.

“You OK?” I ask, trying to hide my amusement.

“Yes,” she says in between laughter. “How can I not be? I’m getting doggy mouth-to-mouth!”

Asher is now splayed over her with his giant puppy paws on her shoulders as he licks her all over. He stops, and they both look up at me with huge grins, and I just know in that moment that this dog has to come home with us.

“What?” Lark asks, trying to figure out what I’m thinking.

“I think I need a puppy,” I admit. “That puppy.”

Asher looks up at me and barks. And we both laugh.

“I think he agrees,” Lark says.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Katie asks, popping her head out of the door to check on us.

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