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Mila! That’s what it was.
“Okay.” I opened the door and walked inside. And, at the sight of a new person, Bagel shot up from her relaxed position and approached Mila, tail down and ears alert as she cautiously sniffed around. A slight growl came out of her mouth, but it was merely protective. Bagel had never bitten anyone and wasn’t about to start now.
“Here,” I said, grabbing a small handful of treats from out of my pocket and giving them to Mila. Bagel’s tail instantly shot up as she looked at Mila with rapt attention.
“Bagel,” I said, “this is Mila. She’s a friend. Mila, this is Bagel.”
Bagel, being a pittie, was intimidating to some people. They’re known as being dangerous dogs and, in some cases, they certainly can be. But, for the most part, pit bulls are among the sweetest dogs out there, and Bagel was no exception. Whatever fears others may have had of Bagel (some people would go so far as to cross the street when I was walking her), Mila had none of them. She put down the drill and started handing Bagel the treats one at a time. Bagel instantly became her best friend.
Mila’s face had relaxed into a smile and, as soon as she ran out of treats, she knelt down and gave my dog ear rubs, which she loved. That tail was out of control, slamming against the wood floor as quickly and loudly as I’d ever heard. So loud, in fact, that I hoped it wouldn’t disturb whoever lived downstairs.
“Oh my goodness, she’s beautiful!” Mila put her face right up to Bagel’s and Bagel responded by giving her about a dozen wet, doggy kisses. “What a sweetheart!”
“Not too loud,” I told her.
“Why not?”
“Because she’s not supposed to be here,” I said. “Kiefer never paid a pet deposit, and this could get me evicted and him in trouble, so let’s just keep this between us.”
“My lips are sealed,” Mila said as Bagel continued to lick her face, then turned over onto her back, paws in the air, demanding belly rubs.
The bed frame still sat in the box in the bedroom, unassembled, and part of me wanted to get started, but I was a sucker for Bagel’s happiness. We’d put the bed together eventually. For now, Bagel was appreciating the attention, and I felt bad for her and the situation I’d be putting her in over the next few weeks, if not months. She had a big house with a backyard to run around in before. Now she was stuck with me in a stuffy apartment, and I wasn’t sure how she was going to adapt.
“Who’s a good girl?” Mila asked and scratched Bagel’s belly, which caused a few joyous and jerky leg kicks. For the first time in over 24 hours, I felt something close to relief. Maybe even happiness. I felt my shoulders relax and I had the first glimpse of a future where everything would be okay. I didn’t need Hannah, and my life from here on out would be moving further and further away from the madness I’d immersed myself in for reasons I could no longer comprehend.
“I guess we should get started on the bed, right?” Mila asked.
She stood up and Bagel immediately flipped around, pushing her head underneath Mila’s hand.
“I don’t think she’s done with you,” I said.
“She’s not going to let us, is she?”
I shook my head. “I’m supposed to be her owner, but she makes all the rules.”
Mila looked at the drill she’d put on the counter and then back at Bagel. Turning to me, she said, “I guess if I’m trusting you with my uterus, I can trust you with my drill. Go for it.”
I grabbed her drill and walked to the bedroom. I heard Bagel’s tags shake and she followed after me. Mila came with her.
“She doesn’t want you to leave her sight, does she?” Mila asked. She stood in the doorway, scratching Bagel’s back.
Bagel kept her eyes locked on me as I pulled the planks of wood out of the box.
“I’ve told her what’s going on,” I said. “I just wish she could understand.”
“And what’s going on?”
I looked at her and contemplated telling her it was none of her business, because it wasn’t, and I didn’t want to talk about it, but that seemed a rude way to talk to a new neighbor.
“We had to move out,” I said.
“You were kicked out?”
“No,” I said. “We had to run away.”
It made me feel a little like a coward. I was supposed to be a big strong man, standing six feet tall and just a hair above 200 pounds, last time I weighed myself. It seemed almost comic that I could be manipulated and bossed around by a woman who stood 5’6” in heels. But that was the thing about size and physical strength — there were only certain situations where you could use it. Like Bagel, I was more bark than bite. I’d never punched anyone in my life and I certainly wasn’t going to lay a finger on Hannah in anger no matter what she did, which put me at a disadvantage when dealing with her.
Mila must have sensed my discomfort because she didn’t follow up with any questions.
