Page 91 of Various Intentions
When a person saw their doom coming from a mile away, and the control they thought they had over their life was put into doubt, it was a sobering reality-check.
I had no real opposition to the idea. Maybe having a four-legged animal around would be a benefit to us all. Was this the final straw in God’s plan to domesticate me, when I’d thought I’d outsmarted them at every turn?
The woman who answered the door looked to be in her sixties, with dusky skin and an impressive amount of hair piled on the top of her head.
“Hello. Are you Nic?” she asked, gazing at Vincent.
I raised my hand. “I’m Nic. This is Vincent and this is Matteo. Sorry… They both wanted to come.”
“That’s okay. My name is Francine. The person I spoke to on the phone—Juno—said they were sending you to pick out a puppy for…someone else?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s a bit complicated. But they want to surprise their partner with a puppy, and they trust us to find them a good one.”
“Well, I only have two left from this litter. One girl and one boy.”
Francine waved us inside and, once we’d removed our boots, brought us into a cozy living area where two pups made excited noises from a small, blanket-lined cage in the corner.
“Only two puppies left?” Vincent said.
“That’s right.”
“So if we take one, the other will be on its own?” Vincent said, glancing my way.
I rolled my eyes.
Francine smiled. “Hopefully it won’t be too long before someone claims the last pup. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll bring them both over?”
“Sure,” I said.
We sat on the sofa as Francine scooped up a pup in each hand. She held one of them out to Vincent. “This little girl is black and silver.”
She passed the puppy to Vincent. Watching Vincent gather the wee thing to his chest and coo to it in soft tones took any remaining will from me.
“That one’s for Charles,” I said, reaching out to pet the wiggling thing. “Juno wanted black and silver,” I reminded Vincent.
“Well, that’s decided,” Francine said. “I’ll put the little boy back in the pen.”
“No, please,” I hastened to say. “It has come to my attention that our household is in need of a good alarm barker”—I eyed Vincent and Matteo—“to keep the burglars away.”
Vincent passed the female puppy to Matteo and held his hand out for the little male, while gazing at me with wide-eyed astonishment, until he took the pup from Francine and became enraptured. It yipped once in his face and proceeded to lick his nose, much to Vincent’s delight.
“He’s the more traditional salt and pepper color.”
“Well, fuck me,” I said, then remembered I was not at home. I blanched and made my apologies to Francine.
“That’s okay, Nic. Bad language and dog ownership go hand-in-hand. It’s not always a pretty business.”
“Is that a warning?” Matteo asked, passing the female pup to me and getting a better look at the male.
Francine laughed. “Could be.”
I took the tiny pup fated for Charles and held it against my chest. It gazed up at me with sweet brown eyes and removed the last of my resistance.
“I’d normally warn you against buying a puppy on impulse, but since he’s the last of the litter, if you can pay for him, he’s yours if you promise to give him a good home.”
“Of course. We have a townhome with a fenced yard,” I said. “Matteo and I work, but Vincent is at home during the day.” Once I’d said it, I realized I’d outed us to Francine. I glanced at Matteo, but he shrugged and smiled.
Francine didn’t ask for any further details. She must come into contact with all kinds of people and different living arrangements when she placed her puppies.
