Page 20 of Carver’s Craving

Styx

Carver’s dark-brown eyes danced with delight when I handed him the knotted poop bag. When he turned away from me to toss it on the porch, I eyed Poppin. “Who would’ve thought you had that much poop in you?”

Swear to God, the dog grinned.

“I’ll admit the first time I was a little startled as well.” Carver stood beside me as we both examined his pipsqueak dog. “But she eats voraciously, gets plenty of exercise, and her poop—” He stopped. “Well, you don’t need to know all that.”

I eyed the pooch. “So now you walk her?”

“She walks and Walter gets a ride.” Carver grabbed a canvas wagon I hadn’t noticed earlier. He plopped Walter into it, and we started down the driveway.

Poppin didn’t pull as I walked her. Just every fifteen steps or so, she’d turn back as if to check to see if I was still holding her leash. “She doesn’t mind strangers walking her?”

“She was the oldest resident of the shelter when I rescued her. She had plenty of people to interact with. Aside from barking her head off at strangers who step into the house, she’s perfectly fine with everyone. I’d like to think I’m her favorite person, but you should see her when she sees Finn. That shelter volunteer was always the one she loved the most.” Carver shrugged. “We get along okay.”

“You and Finn?” I was lost.

He laughed. “No, me and Poppin. Finn’s a great guy. Married to Ulysses.” He waved the hand not pulling the wagon. “I met them the day I rescued these two. Finn was so relieved because he’d been worried about them. Thrilled they were able to stay together.”

“Finn didn’t want to rescue them himself?”

“He’s a firefighter and has crazy work hours. Only moving in with Ulysses enabled him to rescue a dog. They chose Thelma because she was a pittie mix and they’re harder to find homes for. Ulysses, the editor of the Mission City Gazette, takes her to work with him.” He gestured to Poppin. “I didn’t want a big dog. Well, or a complex dog, if you know what I mean.”

I shook my head. “You’ve got dogs on meds. To me, that’s complicated.”

He shrugged. “I guess. You might want to turn your flashlight on now.”

The driveway curved and, as he suggested, the light from the house faded. I flicked on the flashlight and pointed it toward my feet.

Carver flicked on his headlamp. “It’s pointed downward, but I still don’t suggest you looking me in the eye.”

“That’s fair.”

Poppin kept walking. More or less in a straight line. Okay, less rather than more. “You met Finn the day you rescued these two? And he’s gay?”

“Yep. He and Ulysses have quite a story about how they met, hooked up, solved a whole pile of crimes, and somewhere along the line fell in love.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got the news clippings from back then. Totally wild. About that time, Ulysses ran features in his newspaper on Poppin and Walter. I had a job and a home. I figured, since I was setting down roots, that I’d bring them home with me.”

“That’s a hell of a commitment.” I gazed at Walter—who’d curled into a ball in the wagon. Apparently he didn’t need to see the dark world to be content. “You ever consider leaving him at home when you go out at night?”

“Nope. This is his time for fresh air. Well, we walk in the morning as well. He’s got a slicker for when it’s raining. He needs to get out.” Carver gazed back and his light flashed over Walter. “Even if he sleeps through most of it.” He chuckled. “Easygoing.”

Poppin started to tug. “Do I follow her or let her choke?”

Carver cast his gaze toward his dog and his light settled on her. “Poppin.” Said with just an edge.

She scampered back to my side.

“Good girl.” With amusement. “She’s caught a scent. It’s sort of cute, her imagining she could take on a raccoon.”

“If you say so. I just—” I sought the right words. “—would worry all the time.”

“No different from having kids. Well, I suppose these two will never graduate from high school and leave home.”

I laughed. “Uh, no. Same amount of heartache, though.”