“Here’s your paper,” he said, handing her the plastic-sheathed bundle. Abby jumped to grab it so Charlotte snatched it from him and pulled off the plastic. Abby immediately lost interest.
“Thank you. You have to de-fun it or you’ll lose it.”
He cocked his head in Abby’s direction. “Is it me or is Abby a little needy today?”
“It isn’t you.”
“And you look a little more tired than usual today.”
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
Declan chuckled. “You’re still gorgeous, don’t get me wrong.”
“Oh of course.” Charlotte flashed a model’s duck-face for him. “Thanks. And yes, those two things are related. The things that kept me from sleeping are the same things that have Abby worried her world is coming to an end.” She moved to the box sitting in her living room and tipped it over. Three squirming puppies bounded out, tripping over each other as they ran at Abby, who jumped to her feet and skittered away from them as if they were howling wolves. The Wheaton knew from experience that remaining low to the ground where the pups could nibble on her ears was a bad idea.
Declan’s eyes popped wide. “You bought puppies?”
“Didn’t buy. Temporarily inherited. Someone left them on people’s doorsteps last night.”
“What people?”
“Seemingly random Pineapple Portians.”
Declan picked up a pup and held it above him as it tried to attack his face. “Gosh, they’re so cute. Who would do that?”
“No idea.” Charlotte removed the soiled towel she’d used as a liner for the box and tossed it into her laundry room. “Though, after listening to them cry all night I sort of get it. Can you keep an eye on them for a second while I get a new towel?”
“Um...” One puppy in hand, Declan stared at another. Charlotte followed his gaze to the one now squatting on her rug.
“Great. Whole room is tile and it picks the rug to poop on. Why do they always do that?”
The puppy finished its business before Charlotte could get to it with a paper towel. She was about to pick up the droppings when she noticed something odd and squinted at the small brown blob.
Declan frowned. “Don’t tell me you see worms. This one just licked my whole face.”
“No, something shiny.” Pinching the chunk with one end of the paper towel, she used the other end to pluck out the object of her fascination.
“Ew,” said Declan. It wasn’t a helpful thing to say but he clearly couldn’t help himself.
With the paper towel Charlotte gave the remaining poop a squeeze to make sure nothing else lay hidden in it, balled the mess up and threw it out. The shiny bit she rinsed clean beneath the tap.
“It’s an earring,” she announced.
“Really?” Declan tucked the puppy under his arm and joined her at the sink.
Clasped between her fingers she held up a tiny, round silver ball with a post attached to the back.
“That just came out of the dog?”
“Yep.”
“Is it yours?”
“Nope.”
They turned from the sink as a comically high-pitched growling began behind them. Two of the puppies were trying to pull a blanket off the arm of a chair. Abby stared at them dolefully.
She didn’t approve.
Charlotte huffed and ran from the room to return with a towel. Folding it inside the puppy box, she gathered up the three furry clowns and returned them to their cardboard prison. They immediately began to whine.
“What are you going to do with them?” asked Declan, seeming to drink his coffee a little faster than usual.
She shrugged. “I guess I’ll take them to the no-kill shelter, assuming Frank is done with them.”
“Frank? What’s he have to do with them?”
“A lady in the neighborhood died yesterday and she had one of the puppies. Frank wanted a little time to make sure the puppies and her death weren’t related and at some point I volunteered to hold on to the little furball. Next thing I know, two more people are handing me more.”
Declan put down his mug. “Hm. Well, I’m off to work.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bolting out of here before I give you a puppy.”
He grinned and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Maybe.”
She wiped at her face with exaggerated drama. “Hey. Didn’t you just say your face is covered in puppy germs?”
He grinned. “I’ll wash it at the store.”
“You’d better. You’re a carrier now, Typhoid Declan.”
She watched him walk to his car and waved goodbye before heading back inside, half-expecting to find Abby carting the puppies to the toilet one-by-one to flush away her competition.
Nope. Abby had found a perch on the sofa to mope and the puppies had launched into a whole new level of whining.
Charlotte hefted the box and took it outside to dump the puppies into the grass, with Abby tagging along behind. Charlotte herded the pups like a cattle dog to keep them on her little patch of green, begging them to do their business. They looked identical and she’d lost track of which one had already relieved itself of the earring.
Eventually, another did its business, which was earring-free. When the last one followed suit with no more evidence of jewelry, Charlotte came to terms with the fact she wouldn’t end up with the complete pair.
Just as well.
“What about you?” she asked Abby.
The Wheaten stared back at her, evidently refusing to go unless she had a proper walk. Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Fine, but we aren’t going far.” She scooped the puppies back into the box and clipped Abby’s leash to her collar. Abby perked up and began trotting.
“Slow down, I can only go so fast holding a box of puppies.”
Charlotte steered the dog down Alice’s street.
