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“Roger that.”
Two cashiers emerged from the fish section and the line let out a sigh as it broke into two for them, leaving me alone at my register. They could sense I was going to be here for quite some time. As we waited for Marissa, I couldn’t help but strike up a conversation.
“Do you have any pets? You are so good with them.”
“I have four Pomeranians,” he smiled and nodded, expecting my low whistle of shock. “I have my hands full. But it’s so much fun,” he beamed. “It started with just one, Billy Boy. An old girlfriend got one for Christmas one year, and she just wasn’t adog person—you know the type?” He whispered, as if not wanting to scare me away with such a thought. “I jumped at the chance when she offered him to me shortly after. Then a year ago, I heard there was a big puppy mill bust, andsome of the dogs were being transported to Newtown. I jumped at the chance, knowing they’d be some sort of small dog, but then I found out they were all Pomeranians. I walked out with three of them. I still can’t believe it, but I have enough space and enough love to give them all. They are still learning how to ‘dog’ from Billy Boy, but they are doing amazing.”
He was such a proud pet owner, and after having Dolly for several days, I knew why. It was rewarding.
“Here you go, Mitchell.” Marissa handed him a collar that looked like it was made for royalty. It glistened and gleamed in the light; its pink crystals were all tones and shades, varying beautifully into the next. It looked like a crown. I winced when he had the tag to ring it up but was relieved it was stillrelatively affordable.Besides,Dolly deserved it.
“That will be $144.26. Oh, here’s a picture of my clan.” He pulled out his phone and held it out to me. Four fuzzy, frizzy, and lushsmilingdogs looked back at me. Each one had on a miniature party hat and different color bow ties. They made me smile, feeling their warmth and cuteness. One was orange, one white, one black and a tan one.
“This is from Billy’s fifth birthday party last year. Aren’t they just beautiful?”
“Oh my. Yes! They are. Which one is Billy?”
“Jake is the orange one, Jeffrey is the tan, Kevin is the black one. My Billy Boy—my OG love—he’s the white one. You don’t see that color in the wild too much. He was from a breeder, though.” He whispered the last part, again not wanting it to catch on. “Adopt, don’t shop!” He sang it like it was his mantra.
A few people saw my credit card emerge, so they bravely got in line behind me.
“I’ll be right with you.” Mitchell called over to them.
I swiped my card, and he gave me a receipt. “Thank you for coming in today. I hope I see you ladies again soon!”
“Thank you, Mitchell. I’m Katie and this is Dolly.”
“It’s been a pleasure having you shopping with us today!” He orchestratedthe line after we turned away. I was certain I wasn’t the only one. Every customer must leave here feeling dazzled, excited, andbroke.
“Next stop, bakery!” I tossed our shopping back in the front seat and loaded Dolly up in the back. “I know what we are doing tonight!” We had an entire wardrobe to put together and make use of those adorable hangers from my mother. We drove off to the bakery nearby. Pulling up to the front, no one was inside, and the lights were off.
“Oh dang, they are closed sweetie.” I grabbed my phone and looked to see if there were any other locations.
“There’s a doggy cafe on 11th street. Does that sound fun?” I looked at her in my rearview mirror. I was starving now that I mentioned it. My clothes were drab, since we’d just been running errands all day, but they weren’t inappropriate for going out, were they? Okay, maybe the muck boots were a little much.
“Let’s go home first and freshen up before the cafe.” I sped home, pulling into the spot and grabbed my shopping bags. With Dolly on her leash, I walked towards my apartment.
“Katie!” A voice called out.
When did I become so popular? If this kept up, I’d need to get one of those giant black umbrellas that celebrities used to hide from the paparazzi. Even if my new social life didn’t hold, at least it would be good for my static electric hair.
It was my neighbor that bombarded me days ago with her quest for another dog. She was enthusiastically waving me over to her porch. “You gotta meet Mr. Twinkles!”
I laughed as we walked into a stranger’s living room. As the door shut behind us, I heard my mother’s voice in my head, but I swatted it away. A small dog with a torpedo-shaped body was wagging his tail with the same gumption as his new mother’s waving. His hair was wiry and frizzy, shades lighter than the looks of his body. And he had a little bit—okay, alotof underbite. He made me giggle just looking at him.
“He’s adorable.” The neighbor woman, who I didn’t even know her name,approved.
“I know it. I wasn’t aware that they just pair you up with pets there. I didn’t get to choose?” She threw her hands up in the air. “But I couldn’t be happier with this mug!”
She ran over to him, squeezing his cheeks with her hand. He leaned in and let her kiss his forehead. “Ever since my Bogart died, I’ve been so lonely.”
I looked around her apartment. It was on a floor level, so it looked similar to mine but didn’t have the vaulted ceilings. On every wall there were pictures of a little black dog in every scene imaginable: birthday parties eating a cake, dressed as one of Santa’s reindeer, or eating a watermelon slice in the back of a red pickup truck. All photos looked professional. She noticed me looking and offered up her information.
“I’m a pet photographer. Here.” She handed me a business card out of her card holder sitting on her dining room table.
Patricia Godwin
Pooch Plus Pet Photographer
