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“How’s that?” he asked, knowing I’d been struggling to eat recently.
“Actually, I feel fine. Maybe we’ve landed on something.”
He grinned and nodded. “That’s good to hear. You really should go to the doctor and talk to them about what’s been going on. This stomach bug of yours has been going on for a while, and nobody else has gotten sick.”
Rather than answering him, I took a giant bite of the egg salad. It was delicious and I suddenly felt like I could eat a dozen of them. Before I was able to take another bite, I heard a strange high-pitched sound followed by a shout. Seconds later, something black and floppy hopped up and snatched my sandwich right out of my hand. Brandon and I laughed as we watched the puppy wrestle with the sandwich for a few seconds before gobbling it down.
Quentin ran up clutching a pink leash. He stopped and hunched over, pressing his hands to his eyes and drawing in a few deep breaths. I wondered how long he’d been running around chasing the puppy.
“Rosie, no,” he finally managed to get out.
That made me laugh even harder.
“I think it’s too late,” I told him.
The black Lab puppy licked her lips and immediately padded over to Brandon. Placing her round paws on his leg, she stretched and strained, sitting and trying to get to his food. But he was holding it over his head so she couldn’t get to it. Even as he was holding it away from her, he was laughing and rubbing the puppy with his other hand.
“I’m sorry,” Quentin said. “She got away from me.”
“No problem,” Brandon said. “It just so happens I ordered her an extra sandwich.”
The promise of another egg salad sandwich had me digging around in my box, and I promptly pulled it out and unwrapped it. Quentin crouched down and scratched the puppy on the back of her head.
“I just got her yesterday,” he told us. “They assured me she would be very easy to train and would do anything I wanted her to do. That’s only accurate if what I wanted to do was train myself for a marathon. She hates her leash with a passion, as you have just witnessed. And stealing food is her favorite pastime. As you also just witnessed. I have fed her, I promise.”
“It’s fine,” I reassured him. “We had a chocolate Lab when we were younger. They have a lot of energy, but they’re great dogs. And ours ate her fair share of sandwiches, too.”
Quentin scooped up the wriggling puppy and gave her a kiss on the side of the face.
“Well, at least that’s good to hear. I didn’t want to think I had gotten a defective Lab or anything.”
I laughed. “She’s really precious. Even if she is defective, you should definitely keep her. I didn’t know you were even thinking about getting a puppy.”
“I wasn’t, actually,” he told us.
“I’ve been kind of lonely recently, so getting myself a companion seemed like a good idea.”
He was looking directly at me when he said it, and I felt something tremble through me. I didn’t know what to do with the surprising revelation, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I filed it away for later.
“Did she already have the name Rosie when you got her, or did you name her that?” I asked.
I didn’t really know why I asked that question. Whether I actually had any interest in knowing how he came up with a name for his puppy, or if I just wanted him to stay with us a little longer. I wouldn’t let myself dwell on the reasoning for very long.
“I gave it to her,” he said. “When I went to choose which puppy I wanted, they were all wearing bandanas around their necks. Hers was covered in little roses, and I thought she was such a pretty girl she should have a pretty name.”
“What happened to her bandana?” Brandon asked.
“She ate it,” Quentin said matter-of-factly.
Brandon and I both laughed. Quentin attached the leash to Rosie’s collar, and the puppy immediately started to roll around and thrash like she was being tortured. He lowered down to the grass, and she rolled around, turning her head to try to shoo away the leash.
“Yep,” I said. “I can see how much she loves that.”
“She’s getting used to it,” Quentin said. “I’m trying to turn her into one of those dogs I can bring everywhere with me. You know the annoying ones who have their own seat at the Thanksgiving table and ride in the passenger seat of car.”
“What’s the point of having a dog if they aren’t that type of dog?” Brandon asked.
“Exactly,” Quentin said with a laugh. He reached down and gently pushed Rosie’s face away from her leash. “All right, well, I’m going to go back to attempting to walk her. You two enjoy your lunch. I have a feeling with her around, I’ll be having lunch out here a lot more often.”
