“You’re getting a dog.”
Katy practically buzzes with excitement. A grin spreads across her face and her leg jiggles in place as she bounces in her seat.
“Technically,Jayis getting a dog. And he’s not a pet, he’s a service animal. But… yeah, we’re getting a puppy.” She pushes a fist against her lips and I swear a small squeal comes out. “Apuppy, Roo!”
“Show me the picture again?”
Katy unlocks her phone, scrolling for a minute and blushing furiously—about what, I don’t want to know—before the grin returns. She hands over the device with a picture on the screen. A yellow lab grins up at the camera, tongue hanging from his mouth. He’s wearing a red harness, and a tennis ball is on the grass between his front paws. I’ve never really been much of an animal personbefore—I mean, they’re cute and all, but I’ve never really wanted much involvement with them—but this dog is really cute.
And if he can help my brother? Well, then I’ll be the first in line to treat him like a king.
“He’s pretty cute,” I say, handing the phone back. “Looks like he’ll keep you on your toes with those puppy eyes.”
“I know,” Katy says with a giggle. “I’m obsessed already. I’ve already bought him far too many toys.”
“Can he have toys? He’s a working dog, right?”
“Yeah, he is, but… Roo, he’s still just a puppy. He’s our puppy. You’re a lawyer, but you’re still allowed to do not-lawyer things.”
“So… I could get him a dumb cowboy hat next time I’m in Texas?” A slow smile spreads across my face as I remember the airport gift shop I wandered around to kill some time before my flight home. It was full of cowboy- and Texas-themed bandanas, cactus-shaped chew toys, and hilarious little hats for pets.
“I’ll disown you if you don’t.”
“Maybe we’ll find one in Phoenix! Wait—what are you doing with the puppy when we’re in Phoenix? You’re still coming, right? Both of you?”
“Pup’s coming too. He’s a service dog. He goes where Jay goes.”
“What, like… just… put him on a plane? Like, does he go in the hold?”
“Well, he’ll be with us, but yes. Amie says even though pets aren’t allowed on Albia, service animals are. We have all the paperwork he needs, puppy passport—”
“Puppy passport?” The concept of a dog having a passport is wild to me, and I can’t contain the smirk or the cackle that pours from my lips. I picture a tiny booklet like my own passport, with a photographof my brother’s new assistance dog, tongue lolling out of his mouth like the picture Katy just shared.
“Well, it’s not officially apassport, but he has travel documentation like the rest of us.”
“What does he do on the plane? Just… sit there?”
“The same as any of us, I guess. He’s been on a plane before, apparently. Julie, the lady who trained him, she took him on trains a few times, and on a plane to Berlin, I think Jay said. So not exactly a long flight, but he’s done it.”
“What if he needs to pee?” The thought suddenly occurs, and I realise I can’t go on without knowing. Somehow, it’s the most important piece of information, and I look at Katy with wide eyes.
“Well… I’m sure there’s something in the rule book?” Katy’s smile falls, and she looks a little stressed as she flips her phone over and begins to type furiously. “I know dogs can hold their pee for long periods… but Phoenix is a long flight.”
Her phone buzzes twice in her hand, and her shoulders relax as she scans the screen.
“Amie says dogs usually do hold it, or if they need to go, their owners will use puppy pads in the toilet. And Jay said the same thing about puppy pads. So, I guess that’s it.”
“I don’t really know much about dogs. We never had one. Never really had any pets.”
“Me either,” Katy says. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “We’ll learn together.”
I smile, slowly at first, but then a wide grin that takes over my whole face and makes my cheeks ache. My eyes burn with tears, as though I haven’t cried enough of them lately, and I launch myself across the sofa to fling my arms around Katy’s neck. She raises her arms, half in defense, and then to return my hug.
“I missed you so much, Sweet Thing,” I whisper into the ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “I don’t ever want to fight like that again.”
“Never,” Katy agrees. “Sisters before misters, always. I know I—we—kept our relationship from you, but—”
“Katy, I don’t—”
