Page 24 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“I'm not showing you sad animals. I'm showing you animals who need homes. Like this little guy.” I clicked on a photo of a golden retriever mix with the most soulful brown eyes. “His name is Buster, and he loves playing fetch.”
“Buster,” Gryff repeated, leaning closer despite himself.
“And look at this sweet girl.” I scrolled to a photo of a border collie mix with one blue eye and one brown eye. “Her name is Ziggy Stardust, and she's great with other dogs.”
“Ziggy Stardust,” he said, and I could hear him weakening.
“Right? And this rescue has a great program where they do home visits to make sure it's a good fit. Very thorough, very responsible.”
“We'd still need to puppy-proof the house.”
“Only if we're bad dog parents. Which we wouldn't be, because I've already researched proper puppy care and training.”
“Of course you have.”
I scrolled through more photos, pointing out various adorable animals who definitely needed our love and attention.A three-legged dog named Tripod. A beagle named Sherlock Holmes. A hedgehog named Sir Reginald Pricklebottom.
“You've been planning this,” Gryff said accusingly.
“I've been preparing. There's a difference.”
“Artie, I love that you want to save every animal in Los Angeles, but we need to be practical. We're both traveling for games and training. Who's going to take care of pets when we're not here?”
“Flynn and Tempest, duh. They’ll be excellent pet-sitters. Very responsible, very loving.”
“You've thought of everything, haven't you?”
“I've considered the various scenarios, yes.”
Gryff was quiet for a moment, studying the photos on my laptop screen. I could see him weakening, the way he always did when presented with something that needed caring for.
“We are not getting a dog right now,” he said finally.
“Yet.”
“We need to be responsible adults first.”
“But you're not saying no to a dog permanently.”
“I'm not saying anything definitive about a dog.”
“So that's a maybe on the dog.”
“That's a 'let's survive our first couple of months in LA before we add any living creatures to the household' on the dog.”
“I can work with that timeline.” I bookmarked the rescue website and closed the laptop. “But I'm keeping Buster and Ziggy in mind. Just in case.”
Gryff’s phone buzzed with a notification, interrupting my mental planning of our future fluffy-butt family.
“Oh, that's the documentary crew,” he said, checking the message. “They want to do some filming here tomorrow afternoon. Something about 'settling into domestic life in LA.'”
“Right, you mentioned they'd send us a schedule.” I didn’t love the idea of being on camera, but this was important to Gryff.
The next evening, Sloane and her cameraman Harry arrived exactly on time, armed with professional equipment and what appeared to be a very detailed shot list.
“This place looks amazing,” Sloane said, immediately moving through the living room like she was cataloging every detail. “Very... authentic. Lived-in.”
“We've been unpacking,” I said, suddenly self-conscious about the throw pillows and picture frames we'd arranged so carefully.
