Page 54 of Chronicles of a Rockin' Mess

“Draw up the adoption paperwork, Asher is coming home with me,” I say.

“Seriously?” Katie asks. I may have threatened this with a few animals over the years.

“Seriously,” I say.

“Yay!! My matchmaking skills finally paid off,” she says with a grin as she claps. “I’ll meet you up front.”

It doesn’t take us long to fill out all the paperwork. Since we are both volunteers and have had clearances for that, the paperwork is quite easy.

“Normally, there’s a waiting period. But I’ll waive it for you on one condition. You better bring Asher back to visit!” she says sternly. Asher barks at his name, and we all laugh.

Ten minutes later, we are in the car with Asher. And I realize, I don’t have any dog stuff. Katie gave us the rest of his meds and a box of his special food, but that’s all we have.

“Uh, I think we might need to hit the pet store on the way home,” Lark says.

“Agreed.” Lark finds one on her phone and directs me to it. We spend the next thirty minutes helping Asher pick out the perfect dog bed, dog toys, treats, and a million other things that I never thought about but the sales person insists we need. Twelve hundred dollars later, my trunk is filled to the brim, and Asher is passed out on the back seat of the car as I pull into the driveway.

“I think we wore him out,” Lark says as she glances behind her.

“I think he wore us out,” I reply with a laugh. Lark giggles.

I park and turn around to see a very passed-out Asher. He has now managed to flip himself over, and he’s lying on his back with his paws in the air, snoring.

Lark looks back over at me. “You know, they say dogs look like their owners.”

“Funny, real funny. Laugh it up, buttercup, because Asher is going to turn into a total stud,” I say to her as we get out of the car, waking Asher up in the process. Asher leaps out of the open car door and starts running circles in the driveway, barking at…well, I’m not really sure.

“Asher, come here,” I call. He thinks it’s a game and starts running from us. Ten minutes later, he finally runs toward Lark who has grabbed a treat.

“Well, that was a stroke of genius,” I say to her as she carries the puppy inside.

“I can’t believe it took us ten minutes to figure out treats would get him to come to us,” she says as she sets Asher down. He immediately begins sniffing everything.

“Uh, what things do you really like in here, because we probably should hide them, like now,” she says. We quickly scurry around grabbing anything of value and placing it in a closet in the office. It takes us another ten minutes to figure out how to install the doggie gates, so Asher doesn’t have free rein of the house and instead is relegated to the family room and kitchen.

Lark flops on my sofa, and Asher jumps up and snuggles against her. I flop down on the other side of him.

“Now what?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I mean, my grandpa had a dog out on the farm, but Bear would just run free out there. I have no idea how to have a pet,” she says.

I laugh. “I haven’t had one since I was a kid,” I admit.

“Well, I’ll find a doggie training school for Asher tomorrow. Otherwise, I think we just need to make sure—”

“What is that?” Maria yells from the kitchen as she nearly trips over the gate we’ve installed.

“Oh, careful, Maria,” I call out as I rush to stand, but in doing so I wake Asher who jumps off the sofa and runs full speed toward Maria, knocking her down. She squeals and throws a bag of fruit up in the air. Apples, oranges, and bananas go flying in every direction.

“Oh, god. Are you OK?” I say as I rush to her side, but Asher has me beat. He’s sitting next to her licking her face, and she’s laughing.

“Mr. Lincoln, whose dog is this? He is so cute,” she says as she plants a kiss on Asher’s nose.

“Uh, well, he’s mine,” I say to her. I watch as her eyes grow wide.

“Yours?”

“Yep.”

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