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Birdy rolls her eyes at me. “Guide dogs are smart, but at the end of the day, they’re just dogs. It’s on me to make those kinds of decisions.”
I looked down at the mutt, my interest piqued. He’s looking left and right as if he’s assessing the situation before he glances back at his owner. Something that I’ve noticed him do all the time.
“So what would happen if you tried to pass, and a car was coming?”
“He would have stopped me.”
“But didn’t you just say…”
“It’s called intelligent disobedience. They’ll refuse the command if they think the handler could get hurt.” Birdy turns her attention toward the road, so I do too, noticing the familiar landmarks. She waits for a heartbeat, listening, before issuing a command. “Forward, Henry.”
The dog starts almost immediately, so I do too.
“Is there a reason why you’re following me?” Birdy asks, her mouth still pressed in a tight line.
“Well, you shouldn’t be walking home alone. It’s late, and you had a few drinks.”
“I’m fine walking home on my own, thank you very much. And even if I wasn’t, I have Henry.”
I look down at the beast, but he’s too focused on doing his job to pay me any attention, not that I forgot about him growling at me that first time. I still don’t think the dog likes me very much.
“And as I’m sure that he’s a really good protector, my place is actually this way, so I guess you’re stuck with me.”
“Because, of course, it is,” she mutters dryly.
I don’t even bother commenting on that.
“So, going back to that list of yours…”
“We’re not talking about my list except in terms of when I can get it back.”
“You’ll get it the next time we have class together,” I say just as Henry pulls her to a stop in front of another sidewalk. I glance up but then do a double-take because we’re in front of my building. My eyes narrow as I look at the buildings thinking I have it all wrong, but nope, it’s my place for sure.
“Why do I have a feeling that you’ll find another excuse? Maybe I should just let you keep it, and I’ll make a new one.”
She gives Henry the command, and they walk across the street. Moving away from the road, she crouches down and unhooks the harness from the dog.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re home, and Henry needs to do his business.” She gets to her feet, sliding the harness over her elbow. “Henry, potty time.”
Home?
The dog moves slowly to the tree and lifts his leg. She turns her full attention to him, her hand resting on his back as they walk on the little patch of grass as he tries to find a spot. All the while, I’m still processing this new information. Once Henry is done and she’s cleaned up his mess, tossing the bag in the nearby bin, she goes toward the building.
“Why are you still following me?” she asks, pulling a key out of her bag and unlocking the door.
“Because this is where I live.”
Her hand stills on the door as a frown appears between her brows. “You do not,” she mutters, so much assurance in her voice I almost believe her.
“Now you wanna tell me where I do or don’t live, Birdy?”
“You live here?” She points at the door. “As in this building right here?”
I snort softly. “The very same one.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
