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Madix and I watched as it walked over to the steps, went up them and tapped around outside the door until an older version of Brady opened it. Looking at the animal, he shook his head and shot Brady a glare before taking a step back and waving his arm for it to enter.

“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

Someone had told me chickens were stupid. Granted, I hadn’t believed it after that one targeted me and tried to kill me at the party, but still. I’d even wondered if maybe the one that had flown through the car window during my test was the same chicken. Maybe it had sensed me driving behind the truck and had orchestrated what had happened so it got another chance to peck me? Or had it been the poultry version of Final Destination?

Consider me convinced now that there had to be a chicken version of Mensa somewhere in the country.

“Really?” Bec asked, drawing my attention back to her. “They’re the sweetest things ever. I don’t actually want to get rid of them, if I’m honest. They’re like my babies.”

“You don’t need nine Chihuahuas,” Brady growled. “And you already have a baby.”

“Those nine make up one of your dog’s legs, asshole,” she snapped. “And they follow me around like I’m their mama, unlike my daughter who’s only six weeks old and can’t do that. Yet.” She added at the end. “The only thing she’s capable of following around are my boobs, so forgive me if I’m enjoying having mobile babies who love me for something other than what my tits…”

“Bec!” Brady yelled, stopping her mid rant. “We have guests. For the love of all things holy, don’t finish what you were about to say. In fact, don’t finish it ever!”

Crossing her arms over the body parts currently being fought over, she mumbled, “It’s my boobies and I’ll discuss them if I want to.”

“Not in front of guests you won’t. It makes people feel awkward,” he informed her, before swinging to face us. “Don’t you guys feel awkward?”

Well, if we hadn’t before, we sure as shit did now. Taking a step closer to Madix, I put myself within arm’s reach and found my body moving and being placed in front of him like a protective shield.

“Pussy,” I whispered and then jerked when he pinched the top of my right butt cheek.

“I think the best thing for me to do is to keep all of them and not split the family up. Ilsa really likes them and would be lost if any of them were taken away. You couldn’t do that to an innocent baby, could you?” Bec was doing her best to sound like it was the best argument ever, but her brother was having none of it.

Rolling his eyes, Brady held his ground. “No. Now, can these lovely people come in?”

I was starting to feel really bad for the poor woman who looked close to tears. That feeling wasn’t helped at all when she turned to me and asked, “If you take one, do you promise to love it like you gave birth to it?”

“Uh…”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure if I was buying one, and I wasn’t sure that people did actually love their dogs like they gave birth to it. Sure, I loved Bing like he was my kid, but I was sure that if the miracle of parenthood occurred, I’d love my kid in a different way to Bing. Then again, I didn’t actually want kids, I was too jinxed for that and it wouldn’t be fair to them to live in that amount of danger.

So, in that case, maybe I could love my dogs as if they were my kids, because that’s what they were.

“Absolutely,” I assured her loudly, my mind made up.

I was having another baby. A four legged, waggy tailed, furry little baby.

Madix

“You know, it’s gonna to be strange seeing you both walking your new dogs,” Brady chuckled, sitting on the couch with a tiny puppy nestled into his neck, fast asleep.

I agreed. The little guy I was currently holding was about the size of my palm. Somehow, Dahlia and I had swapped puppies, and she was now struggling under the size of the Malamute puppy that was sucking on her chin.

“What made you decide on a giant Malamute?” Bec asked, sitting back watching us.

She’d been hesitant initially to let Dahlia buy one, but once she’d seen the puppies and started to interact with them, Bec had changed her mind and decided that Dahlia had to have one.

“I love the breed,” I replied simply, tickling the little puppy on the cheek.

Jesus Christ, my finger tip was almost the same size as its head. Taking a quick look at the mother who was enjoying the freedom from her offspring, I tried to picture the puppy in my hand only growing to that size. There really wasn’t that much of a difference between its size now and its full-grown size.

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