Page 10 of The Big Catch

“Cuz, you like her stuck up ass,” he said with excitement. When I shook my head, he covered his mouth with his fist. “Hell yeah, you do. You about to let that girl come in your house to spend time with your puppy until you’re comfortable. Man, you might as well tell her that you’d be comfortable when she’s on your dick.”

I chortled. “Shut the hell up. She’s gonna come through, spend time with My Boy, and I’m going to see if they really bond. If not, she can go somewhere else to find a dog.” I meant that shit.

I was an early riser since fishing was best at dawn and dusk. Fish tended to be more active and liked to eat during those times because of the low light. With all the dogs that I had, I had to get them together in the morning as well. My Boy was the youngest puppy that I had right now, at nine weeks old. I kept him separated from the rest of my babies at night and until the mid-morning.

Ding, ding, dong.I glanced at the clock over my fireplace.Five fifty-eight. She’s punctual. I like that.I moved to the door, then opened it.Damn!

“Can I come in, or are we doing everything out here?” Her hand must have been in love with her hip. It seemed to always want to be on it.

I shook my head. “I guess you’re not a morning person. You can come in.”

I moved to the side to let her inside. She walked past me slowly with her head on a swivel like something was about to jump out at her. “Mm, you’re place is actually nice.”

“You said that shit like it wasn’t supposed to be.” I walked around her to step into her personal space. She was taller than my cousin Tink but still much shorter than me. I had to lean down a little for our eyes to meet. “I’m not sure what type of nigga you’re used to, but I’m not that. Don’t disrespect me, my house, or my babies again, Adabelle. Don’t become a victim.”

Her ass needed to learn early not to play with me. I was a nigga with big guns, sharp hooks, hard teeth, and a big dick.I am he.She was the first to break our eye contact when she took a step back and shifted on her feet. “Um, where is the puppy?”

Her tone was soft as it should have been the other day. I stared at her for a beat before I cut my eye over to the door that led into my doghouse. “My Boy is in here. Come on.”

“Why do you call him My Boy?” she asked to my back.

After I opened the door, I turned to face her to answer her. “That’s his name. Like Adabelle is yours.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it is. Just like Holden is yours, but you choose to go by Gunner.” Her brow tiptoed up her forehead. “I choose to go by Belle.”

She had me there, so I chose not to say anything. I simply nodded and continued into the doghouse. My dogs got excited when I came in. My older babies knew not to do all that barkingshit, but my younger babies were still learning. My Boy was in a room but separated from three older puppies from another litter that I was rehoming. In my breeder contract, I offered rehoming for any puppy bought from me within twenty weeks of birth. It was rare that the clause was enacted.

“My Boy, what you doing?” His entire bottom shook because of his hard wagging tail. I picked him up with a smile. “I got someone that I want you to meet.”

I turned him so that Adabelle could see him. “My Boy, this is…” I paused, looked at Adabelle for a beat, then back at My Boy. “This is Belle. Belle, do you want to hold My Boy?”

A small smile rested on her face. I chuckled because it seemed like she didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help it. I held him out to her, and she took him from me. As soon as he was close enough to her chest, he wiggled himself to lick her face. When I thought she would shriek before she pushed him away, she surprised me by letting out a smile accompanied by a giggle.Her smile is beautiful.

“Your tongue is cold, My Boy,” she said between her giggles. “Hey, handsome, My Boy.” She played with him as I stood there and watched them connect.

When she smiled, you would never think she was the stuck-up bitch that she was. Belle was a beautiful woman. I wasn’t sure why her fake husband did what he did, but it was hard for me to believe that she had this uppity attitude when they met.

“Come on so I can show you what to feed him and how to make it. I have one last batch, so you’re going to help me feed all my dogs and then make their food. The time it takes for the babies to eat, we will have the time to prep their food and put it on,” I told her.

Her lip turned up. “Wait, what do you mean prep their food? Do you mean open the bag of food and pour it in something?”Her ear leaned toward her shoulder. “Why do I have to help with all the dogs when I only want My Boy?”

For a beat, the room was silent. Even my lil babies that were barking stopped. It was like they knew she was doing too much. “You are helping with the rest of the dogs because I need to know that you can take care of him even when he becomes a full-grown dog. He’s not a purse type dog. No, I don’t feed my babies bag food. I cook all their food.”

Her top eyelids tried to kiss her brows. “Are you serious? Wouldn’t it be easier if you just bought food? I feel like it would be less expensive too.” She followed me, with My Boy in her arms, to the kitchen.

“Contrary to popular belief, no, it’s not with the amount of dogs that I own and take care of. Plus, I want my babies to be healthy with top-tier coats. You should remember that we have farmers and butchers here in Newsome. They give me deep discounts on what I need because I typically buy in bulk,” I told her.

It looked like she was thinking about it before she nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Do you make the people that buy puppies from you cook their food?”

I moved around the feeding room to get the bowls ready. The younger babies ate in a separate room. “I can’t force them, but I do highly suggest it. I do offer prepared meal prep services where I will mail them their food at a price.”

For the next ten minutes, I showed her what needed to be done to feed the babies, and she helped. She didn’t complain much, but I could tell she wasn’t used to manual labor. When we let the dogs out, they were all interested in the new female in the house. They all stopped to smell her and let her pet them before they scurried off to eat.

When I pulled out everything that I needed to make the food for my dogs, which I made in weekly batches, she hada comment or question about every ingredient. “Why the hell would a dog need sweet potatoes?”

I chuckled when she rolled her eyes. “Sweet potatoes are rich in vitamin A and fiber. It has a lot of benefits like gut health with regular bowel movements, it’s low in calories and fat so it helps with weight management, helps with heart and brain health, immune function, stuff like that. Everything in my dishes for them helps them.”

I told her that I had a bachelor's degree in animal science from Alabama A&M University when she asked me how I knew what I knew. “You have a degree, like from a real school?”

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