Now, Sandi was on a roll. “And here’s another thought, Mom. If you have your female pets spayed, they don’t come home unmarried and pregnant, covered with tattoos and with more holes in their bodies than a sieve.”
Sandi might not have children, but her two older brothers and an older sister had done all of the above.
Her mother’s face flushed and her mouth flattened. “That’s a low blow, Sandi. Jason’s paid me back every dime he took from me. Your brother Jimmy ain’t even got a speeding ticket in more than a year, much less been arrested. And your sister? Jamie loves her baby. She ain’t got any more tattoos or body piercings since Kaylee was born. She’s moved in with this guy who’s got a steady job at the Jiffy-Stop.”
“Doing what?”
“He’s a cashier. And it sounds like they’re gonna get married.”
Sandi had nothing left to say that wasn’t insulting.
Her thoughts and opinions didn’t matter to her family anyway. She had little contact with her siblings. All three were years older than she. She never visited them or vice-versa. They didn’t even exchange birthday cards. Other than sharing the same parents, she had almost nothing in common with them. Considering the difference between her age and theirs, Sandi didn’t doubt she had been her parents’ Saturday night mistake.
“I’m not bad-mouthing my sister and brothers, Mom. I’m just trying to make a point. My life’s starting to look good again. I don’t want to ruin it working at a job I hate.”
“Well, just don’t get too comfortable, young lady. You know what your grandmother always says. A storm follows the calm.”
Crap. There was that annoying conflicting philosophy again. “I hope not. My galoshes are still damp from the last downpour.”
Chapter 3
Two months later...
The calendar might say September, but the daily temperatures were still hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. Even so, the holidays were just around the corner. Sandi had been studying confections of all kinds and experimenting with how she could turn some of the traditional-looking holiday dishes into healthy pet treats. For Halloween, she could do something with tiny pumpkin faces made of ground chicken, carrots and sweet potatoes, she decided.
She applied the final flourish to a pastel pink rose petal on the Petits Furs she had removed from the oven earlier in the day. The little bite-size cakes looked almost like the fancy petits fours seen in gourmet bakeries, but the similarity stopped with appearance. Her creations were made of premium lean beef, vegetables and nutritious supplements.
A cold nose pressed against her leg and she looked down. Waffle had brought his dish and placed it at her feet.
“Waffle, you can’t have another one. I’ve already given you two. This is my livelihood you’re gobbling up.”
The dog’s mouth stretched wide, baring his huge canine teeth in what Sandi was sure was a smile. He was such a con artist. She chuckled as she always did when he pulled that trick and said a silent prayer of thanks for the day the dog had come into her life as a stray.
“Waffle” she had named him, because of the beautiful honey-colored coat Prissy had discovered under all of the filth and matted hair he’d had when he had first shown up in the alley. He had gained weight and no longer had a sad look about him. And he had won her heart and soul. She had even gone so far as allowing him to stay in the shop with her, a privilege she hadn’t allowed any of her other pets.
Waffle was a great PR dog. Everyone who came into the store fell in love with him. Even her pets at home — all six of her snobby cats; her two big dogs, Ricky and Fred; the hens, Sophie, Snow White and Dominique. Even Christian Grey, her bossy rooster, had taken to Waffle. The dog’s happy spirit was infectious. Sylvester had stopped hissing and spitting at him and trying to box him. Pablo had ceased growling and snarling when Waffle walked through the house. And Jake loved riding on Waffle’s back. Though Sandi had found him only two months ago, she couldn’t remember what her life was like with all of her pets when Waffle hadn’t been part of it.
The jingle of the bell attached to the door drew her attention. Prissy entered, her ample hips jiggling, her hands flapping about from her obvious agitation.
“What’s up with you today?” Sandi asked.
“Oh, Sandi, I’m so sad. Margaret’s babies are going to be leaving me. They’re six weeks old now. I’ve found homes for all of them except one. In a couple of weeks, it’ll be time to let them go.” Prissy turned away, hiding a sniffle with the back of her finger.
Margaret was a sweet little mama dog Prissy had groomed. The owner never returned for her. Prissy had intended to find her a home, but ended up keeping her. Soon after, Margaret had given birth to seven puppies.
“Aww. What are you going to do with the one that’s left?”
“A guy is coming in this afternoon to see my last little boy. Hopefully, giving away all of these puppies will bring me a string of new customers. Come up and see them. They are, hands down, the cutest things you’ve ever seen.”
Too busy to drop into the Pampered Pooch, Sandi had seen the puppies only a few times since their birth. “I’d love to see them before they go.” She looked at Waffle. “I’ll be right back. Watch the store for me.”
She flipped the sign on her front door to CLOSED and walked behind Prissy’s short stride. Being tall had its advantages, but even long legs were tested when trying to match the steps of a vertically-challenged person in a hurry.
When she entered the Pampered Pooch, she heard the puppy barks
