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“I tried. He poops in the crate.”
“Try a smaller one.”
“I got one he can barely turn around in. He was probably left in one for long periods. He doesn’t care if he stands in it. I think he’s used to it.”
She looked worriedly at the dog. “Where will he go?”
“I don’t know. I have to find someone. It might have to be the shelter.”
“Did you ask Mike?”
“Donna doesn’t like dogs in here. I only brought him ’cause I had to,” I said.
She chewed her lip. “Well, what if I helped? Could you keep him with help? If you’re comfortable with it, I could come over after work to walk him. I get off at noon. I can be there at twelve thirty. That’s about the middle of your shift, right? And I can take him on my days off. My apartment doesn’t allow dogs, but if I’m just watching him for a day or two, they won’t notice.”
“I can’t ask you to do that—”
“It’s no problem. I love dogs,” she said quickly. “I’d have one if my landlord let me.”
She and the dog peered up at me with puppy eyes and I don’t know what it was, but I didn’t think I could say no to her.
“What about if we do a trial run,” I said. “We try it for a few weeks.”
Her whole face lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
The way she was smiling made me feel like I’d won a prize.
“So what do we call him?” she asked.
I scratched his ear. “I don’t know. Garbage Goblin?”
She scowled playfully at me.
“What about Woofarine?” she asked.
“Woofarine,” I deadpanned.
“Yeah, he’s kind of tough.”
“I could be okay with Woofarine.”
She beamed.
I watched her kiss the dog happily and realized I felt relieved.
I didn’t want to give him up. As much as the accidents in the house were driving me up the wall, I had to admit he’d pulled me out of my funk this last week. It was hard to be depressed when someone was so happy to see you—even if they were shitting everywhere.
Larissa gave Woofarine one more snuggle and then put him down.
“So how’s Mike?” she asked.
“Sleeping,” I said. “Convinced he has to run an Iron Man today.”
She laughed. “What? Why would he think that?”
“Jesse.”
