I’d finished telling everything, up to
the point of walking into Dusty Deals an hour earlier, I leaned
against the back cushion and prepared for some sympathy.
Phyllis picked up a notebook and flipped it
open. “So, you’re watching the dogs for the Humane Society? Does
that mean they accepted our application? I heard there was an
opening on the board. If they are trusting you with this many dogs,
surely they would consider you for that.” She scribbled something
down. “There are still the Mountain Scouts and their cookies, and
the posters Betty ordered. It would look terrible if we defaulted
on those. So you are going to have to find a way to sell them. And
I saw Betty’s rough...” She shook her head. “Still, this could all
be good. It could be just what we were hoping for.”
I didn’t know what she’d been hoping for, but
sadly I didn’t think it was the new stove with four working burners
that I’d been dreaming about lately, or the flat screen TV,
or...
“I can buy the cookies.” Ethel tapped her
cane on the floor and stood up. “We get no decent snacks at that
home. The girls will love them.”
“Are you sure—” Phyllis began, but I cut her
off by leaping to my feet and jumping in front of her.
“I’m sure the Scouts will appreciate it.” As
would I. Peter’s recent absences already had me feeling more than a
little insecure. Being saddled with 300 boxes of cookies right now
would not be a good thing for my thighs and, thus my self-esteem.
After all, if I paid for them, I would have to eat them. How could
I live with myself otherwise?
The front bell rang and a delivery man walked
in pushing a handheld trolley loaded with poster-sized tubes in
front of him.
“The posters,” Phyllis murmured.
“How many?” I asked, quickly scanning the
tubes bungee corded to the two-wheeler.
“Fifty here,” he said, glancing at his
clipboard. “And... another hundred and fifty in the truck.”
Phyllis turned to stare at me. Her expression
was not amused.
Ethel reached for my hand and stood. “Oh my!
We are late! My dentist appointment was five minutes ago.”
Caught up staring at the delivery man who was
walking back outside for another load, I didn’t reply.
Her cane poked me on the top of the foot. “My
appointment?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Yes, yes. Your appointment. I made a
commitment.” Or at least people seemed to think I had. “Can’t be
letting you down again.”
o0o
Two days later, Red’s sled dog team was still
calling my little acre of land home.
I’d given up the idea of leaving the team
outside after the first day. It was too cold and they were too
loud. Even my mind-their-own-business neighbors had started to
complain. And I couldn’t blame them. The howls of nine dogs caught
between two mountains tended to carry.
I’d also give up on small niceties like
pillows and clean floors. I’d thought Kiska carried in dirt, but he
had nothing on this crew. Every trip outside, one or more of them
found something, usually decayed and disgusting, to bring back in
with them.
After the second half-eaten pack rat made it
onto my bed, I’d set up a check point at the door.
I’d just caught Zef smuggling what appeared
to be a frozen boot circa 1801 in the front, when my phone
rang.
I had gone two days locked in my house trying
to keep the dogs from destroying my home. I hadn’t seen nor heard
from another human with the exception of my neighbors calling to
tell me my dogs were making a racket. Like I couldn’t hear that for
myself. My blue hair was stiff and unwashed. My pillows were empty
cotton sacks. And my floors were covered with fur, feathers, and
pack rat debris.
I had, thanks to Martin, food for the dogs,
but I was getting short on Diet Pepsi and chocolate. When those
staples ran out, I didn’t know what I would do.
Anyway, when the phone rang, I ran to answer
it. The dogs were quiet at the moment, so I didn’t think it could
be a disgruntled neighbor, which