Page 41 of Grave Humor

“But I don’t want to be polite. I want a dog.”

“You can get a dog after this one is returned to his owners, should he have owners.”

I considered that. “Okay, I suppose that’s fair. But I should take him to the vet for a checkup.”

“You may not need to if you find his owner quickly.”

While that was true, I scowled at the interference in my plan to have a dog. “But what if he’s sick?”

Gordon got off the couch, stayed out of the direct sunlight, and eyed the dog. “He looks healthy enough to me. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Do you even have anything you need to care for a dog?”

“No, but I have a truck. Using my truck, I can get everything I need to care for a dog.”

“I see you were quite serious about your love of dogs.”

I nodded, and I scratched the stray behind his ears. “I have a back yard. He might be happy back there.”

“He might be happy digging up the melons you want to plant, too.”

I frowned at that. “He can live in the house, too. I do not mind walking a dog, especially if he’s mine.”

“Why don’t you try finding his owner first before you decide you own him. Someone might be missing their dog.”

I heaved a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go check if there’s a listing for a missing dog like him. But if I don’t find one, I’m taking my truck, I’m buying supplies, and I’m going to lure my new dog into the house and keep him.”

Gordon sighed and returned to the couch. “Whatever makes you happy, Anwen.”

“Not having to look for his owner would make me happy!”

The vampire laughed. “You’ll live.”

“Maybe I’ll live, but maybe I’ll perish from a broken heart from not being able to keep such a cute dog.”

“He’s uglier than hell, Anwen. He looks like he got into a knife fight and barely escaped with his life. He is not precisely cute.”

“But look at his ears.”

“They are ears. What is special about them?”

I gestured to the dog and his scarred face and ears. “They’re floppyish.”

“Floppyish?”

“A little floppy but not all the way floppy. They’re adorable.”

“Are you sure you slept well enough last night? He is a very ugly dog.”

“I slept fine. I just really like dogs.” I attempted to coax the dog into the house again, and the animal ignored me, remaining on my front step and keeping a close eye on the lawn. Sighing, I debated leaving the door open so the pooch could invite himself in, but I opted against it.

Bugs would accept the invitation before the dog would, and I didn’t need an insect infestation to go with my other problems. My problems had improved somewhat, however. My arm no longer counted as a problem, and I’d have to thank the devil for that somehow.

I’d probably call his wife and thank him that way. A happy wife meant a happy husband, or so ‘they’ said.

Closing the door, I retrieved my new laptop, booted it up, used my new phone as my internet connection, and began a tedious search for my dog’s owner—if he had an owner.

Sometimes, doing the right thing sucked, but in any case, I’d do my best to make sure the dog had a good home.

After several hours of searching every dog rescue, shelter, and listing for missing dogs, I came to the conclusion everyone took close care of their big, black dogs that weren’t labradors. In a fifty mile radius, I couldn’t find a single missing dog listing matching my pup’s description. When I went to check on the dog, he’d moved off my front steps to lounge on the grass.