So, Sadie. In the few weeks they’d had thedog, Matt had managed to spoil it rotten. Yes, there was a pet bedin one corner of their bedroom, and they kept a large cage underthe kitchen table, but whenever Vic woke in the morning, the dogwas always beside him in the bed. Why Matt couldn’t cage her aftertheir morning walk, Vic didn’t know.
Well no, he did know. Sadie didn’t dowell in a cage, even one as large and roomy as the one Matt hadbought. Vic knew the dog had plenty of room in it because he’dcrawled into the thing himself to show her how it worked, anddamned if Matt hadn’t grabbed the digital camera to take a fewquick pictures of him on his hands and knees before Vic told hislover to knock it off.
“God, seeing you like this does wicked thingsto me,” Matt said, a sly grin on his handsome face. “If Sadiedecides she doesn’t like the cage, maybe we can find someuse for it. A pair of handcuffs, a leather whip, your ass flat upagainst the bars where I can get at it—what do you say?”
Crawling out of the cage, Vic warned, “Ifanyone ever sees those pictures…”
Matt stepped up to him, pressing his bodyagainst Vic’s. Nearby Sadie sat on the floor, tail thumping, as shewatched Matt quiet Vic with a kiss. “Nobody sees them but me,” Mattpromised. “What kind of superpower do you think you’d get if wefucked in that thing? Hey! Remember—”
“No.” Vic shook his head, adamant. Evenwithout the telepathic ability they shared, he knew exactlywhere his lover was headed with the thought and he didn’t want toremember that particular power—there had been nothing superabout excessive hair growth that had turned Vic into a shaggySasquatch. Matt might have enjoyed seeing his boyhood fantasies ofmaking love to someone furry come true, but Vic had hated beingcovered head to foot in a long, luxurious pelt of hair. He likedhis body smooth, shaved, and the memory of that horrible Halloweenstill haunted him.
Despite Vic’s demonstration of the cage,Sadie didn’t like it. The first day Vic left her alone in it, Mattcame home from work to find her howling—he could hear her from thestreet, and their elderly landlady stood on the landing as heentered their building, the look on her face rivaling Vic’ssternest glare. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she swore. “That beastis ungodly! Where is Vic—”
“He’s at work, Mrs. K.” Matt ducked aroundher and headed for the door to his apartment, key already in hand.When Sadie heard it scrape into the lock, her infernal howlingceased immediately. “She’s just lonely. I’m sorry, I reallyam.”
“She needs daycare,” Mrs. K. spat.“She’s terrorizing my cats!”
At the time Matt had thought she’d only saidit in anger but later that evening, he looked in the phone book andfound there was such a thing as daycare for dogs after all.Because he and Vic worked different schedules, they didn’t need toleave Sadie for too long—Matt went to work at eight, Vic atnoon. They chose a facility near the gym; Vic could drop off thedog when he came in to lift weights before heading to work, andMatt could pick her up when he left for the day at five. Shewouldn’t be away from home for long, and the interaction with otherdogs would be good for her. The arrangement worked outperfectly.
Only now they had an empty cage no one used,and Sadie never stayed in her pet bed after Matt left for work inthe mornings. Instead, she preferred to snuggle up beside Vic. Hedidn’t know what was worse—Matt’s gentle teasing when he was stillhalf asleep or Sadie’s over-eager obnoxiousness when he first wokeup.
When he flushed the toilet, he heard Sadie’sclaws on the hardwood floor as she scrambled to her feet. With agroan, Vic slowly opened the bathroom door—he only got it a fewinches before Sadie’s golden snout shoved into the crack.
“Sit,” Vic commanded. Sadie disappearedimmediately.
At least she listened to him. He opened thedoor fully to find her sitting on the floor, tail sweeping acrossthe hardwood and wrinkling the throw rug in its path. When she sawVic frown at her, Sadie barked softly. The dog was as bad as Matt,and, unfortunately for Vic, he couldn’t stay mad with either forlong. “Just calm down,” he muttered, scratching behind the dog’sears as he headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “It’s too earlyfor this shit.”
Sadie trailed behind him, right on his heels.In the kitchen, Vic found a fresh pot of coffee warming for him anda note written in Matt’s blocky handwriting taped to the front ofthe coffeemaker. I made muffins. Look on the stove. Don’t giveone to Sadie! They’re chocolate chip because I love you.
It took Vic’s sleepy mind a moment to workthrough the message. It seemed like nonsense to him. Matt bakedmuffins, that much he could get. They were on the stove—Vic glancedbehind him and saw a dinner plate covered with tinfoil, sothat made sense. But why mention the dog?
He didn’t know. Frankly, he didn’t care. Amuffin or three slathered with butter would complement his coffeenicely. Pouring himself a steaming mug of java, he grabbed thebutter from the fridge, then carried the plate of muffins into thedining room. At his feet, Sadie whined.
“Hush,” Vic admonished, holding up the ballednote so she could see it. “This says none for you.”
That dejected look again—how an animal whocouldn’t smile or frown still managed to look so pitiful amazedVic. Before the dog came into their lives, he hadn’t reallyunderstood why people kept pets. They had no personality, he’dthought, nothing to offer to a relationship. All they did was eatand sleep and shit…why put up with it in the first place?
Now he knew why. As he settled into hischair, Sadie set her chin on his thigh, the heavy weight warmthrough Vic’s flannel robe. Scratching Sadie’s floppy ear, Vicmurmured, “Good dog.” Absently
