Puppy Love, Volumes 1 to 13

by C. Coal

This went on through the entire day and into the evening. Each time the puppies woke up, Carla and Rob looked at each other and shrugged. And each time the puppies fell asleep Carla and Rob agreed it was best to just let them sleep.

  Finally, at five o'clock, Casper sat down in front of Rob, staring at him with intense expectation.

  "I know, buddy. Time to get you home and feed you, huh?" At those magic words, Casper started wagging his tail and running around in circles.

  Rob glanced at Carla, "I guess we better get going…"

  "Yeah." She sighed. She didn't want him to leave. Ever. "Unless…" She glanced towards her kitchen. "What do you feed him?"

  "Eukanuba puppy for large breeds."

  "Same! You could just feed him here." She held her breath, hoping he'd agree to stay.

  Rob nodded. "I could." He smiled a smile like the sun breaking out of the clouds. "But we do have to leave at some point."

  "True…"

  Carla met Rob's eyes and they both smiled at what passed between them in that moment.

  * * *

  Rob and Casper did eventually leave.

  But not for long.

  They were soon a permanent fixture at Carla's house. Casper and Sophia were seldom apart as they played and slept and played some more.

  Same with Rob and Carla.

  And nine months later, when Rob dropped to one knee and held a small ring box out to Carla asking if she'd spend the rest of her life with him, she knew that adopting Sophia had been the best decision she'd ever made.

  Puppy Love Winter Storm

  Buster, Lindsay's eight-month-old Newfoundland puppy, plopped down in front of the couch and stared at her with his large brown eyes, whining softly. She set aside her book, unable to ignore eighty-pounds of adorable black and fluffy puppy sadness.

  "What is it, boy?" she asked, reaching out to rub his ears. They were soft as velvet.

  He ran to the other room and came back dragging his leash and collar, tossing them around over his head, the tags jangling together as he careened around the room.

  "Now?" Lindsay asked, glancing out the fourth-floor window of her apartment to see that it was still snowing heavily just like it had been all day.

  Buster sat down in front of her, the leash dangling from his mouth, watching her expectantly, his long tail swishing softly against the beige carpet.

  She knew she could tell him no and he'd go lay down with a loud sigh, casting her accusing glances for the next half hour until he finally fell asleep. But she just couldn't stand to disappoint him. Plus, it would probably be good for both of them to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air—even if that air was freezing cold and full of snow.

  She bundled up in a long-sleeved fleece shirt with a hooded sweatshirt over that, a large scarf that was probably the warmest thing she owned, and then, to top it all off, her heavy winter coat.

  Northern Virginia in winter was no joke.

  Before she could get both of her boots on, Buster grabbed one of the fur-lined boots from the closet and ran around the room, tossing the boot over his head and catching it again. It was his favorite pastime and the reason she had to keep the boots locked up in the closet when they were home.

  He never chewed them, thankfully, just ran around with them in his mouth until they were covered in puppy slobber.

  "You know we can't go anywhere until you give me that back don't you?" she asked as he sat in the middle of the room, sides heaving, waiting for her to chase him.

  "Drop it," she said, holding out her hand.

  He didn't drop it. He never did unless a treat was involved. But he didn't move away when she walked up and gently pried the boot from his jaws. "Thank you," she said, sliding the boot onto her foot, trying to ignore the wet spot against her ankle. She could barely feel it through the tights and long underwear she's put on under her snow pants.

  "Alright, let's go."

  Buster raced to the door and glanced back at her as if wondering why she took so long to cross the room. Lindsay smiled and ruffled the top of his head.

  "Easy, boy. Not all of us have the energy you do. I'm an old woman, remember?" she said, laughing to herself that at thirty-five she felt like an old woman.

  That's what living in an apartment with an outdoor-loving puppy would do to you. Make you feel twenty years older than you really were.

  She wished the weather were nicer so they could drive over to Carla's and visit her and her new pup, Sophia, and play in Carla's big back yard. But there was no way anyone was getting anywhere in this snow and ice.

  So a walk on the streets of Crystal City it was. They took the elevator down to the ground floor and walked outside without seeing anyone. Amazingly, she only saw one or two cars on 15th street. Usually there were twenty or thirty visible at any given time between the three lanes going each direction and Highway 1 running by overhead. It was called a highway, but it felt like 15th was just as busy most of the time.

  Amazing how quickly the DC area completely shutdown over one little snowstorm. Happened every winter, though. And to be fair, eight inches was a lot in a city where ice sometimes fell out of the sky instead of snow. She certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore.

  Buster grabbed his leash in his mouth and pulled her in the direction of Long Bridge Park. As they passed under Highway 1, she quickly glanced up the concrete wall to their right as well as the one across the street. Often there were homeless men asleep at the tops of the walls and sometimes they tried to approach Buster and her to say hi to the pup.

  None had done anything weird to them yet—other than the guy who'd decided to bark at Buster—but she always felt a little nervous walking under the overpass, the sound of the cars passing by on the highway above her as some strange man approached her and her puppy.

  Before Buster, these decisions were easy. Stranger approaches, walk away or ignore them. But now…

  People loved Buster. They walked up to her and the pup all the time. And he seemed to love them, too, always wagging his tail and sniffing to say hi to anyone who passed by, even the disgruntled business types who sneered and took two extra steps to the side to avoid him.

  How someone could not like a puppy, she'd never understand, but it definitely happened a lot here.

  Fortunately, there were no homeless men under the bridge in this weather. She hoped they were nice and warm in shelters somewhere.

  No one else was out and about either.

  They jaywalked their way across the right side of 15th to the wide center divide where Buster paused to dig his nose into the snow, jumping and rolling around so much Lindsay could barely keep ahold of his leash.

  She laughed, watching him play. He loved the snow. She swore if she let him, he'd stay out in it all day.

  Once they'd crossed the other three lanes of 15th, they headed to the right of the Crowne Plaza hotel, it's beige stucco exterior thrusting into the sky through the ongoing snowfall. Lindsay ducked her head back down and pulled her scarf and hood closer around her face.

  She wasn't a furry little puppy to stare up at the snow and not notice as it melted all over her cheeks.

  They crossed Crystal Drive to the big grassy area next to the apartment building where people waited for their ride shares every day. Some days when Buster was a little too restless, she'd bring him here straight from daycare and run around with him until he was worn out while all the folks in suits pretended not to watch the crazy lady and her puppy.

  It was either do that or take him for an hour-long walk after dinner. You'd think eight hours of daycare would be enough for him, but he always seemed to save an extra reserve of energy for when she picked him up.

  One thing she could say about having a puppy—he was definitely good for her waistline. No chance of getting fat with Buster to drag her outside five to six times a day on weekends and at least three times a day on weekdays.

  Buster turned back to her, wagging his tail, and she grinned. "You ready, boy? Wanta run?"

  She
started to run and Buster was right there next to her, leaping through the snow like it didn't even exist. Lindsay was hard-pressed to keep up with him as they dashed across the white expanse, the snow as high as her calves.

  She laughed as Buster jumped to the side, turning over on his back and rolling around.

  He enjoyed this so much, how could she deny him?

  They continued their walk, Buster taking small bites of snow every few steps. Lindsay kind of enjoyed the way the cold air clutched at her throat with each breath.

  They didn't see anyone else. No one else was as crazy as they were to go out in the middle of a snowstorm.

  They walked a couple more blocks and down a steep hill to the soccer fields—two of them arranged side-by-side with a third one off to the side. Normally dogs weren't allowed on them.

  Then again, normally there were large crowds of men or kids playing on them at almost all hours of the day.

  Not today, though.

  Buster looked at her with his big brown puppy eyes, glancing at the field and back at her again.

  "Wanta run?" she asked, and they started to run across the field, but the snow was too deep for her to keep up with him, so she had to stop and rein him in.

  Buster glanced back at her and grabbed his leash, shaking his head from side to side.

  She glanced around. No one in sight. And Buster really needed a good run.

  No way they were going to make it to Glencarlyn, her favorite dog park, anytime soon. There he had a river, tons of trees, and dirt paths where he could run to his heart's content. But it was twenty minutes away in good weather, which wasn't likely to happen again anytime soon.

  Buster sat in the snow, staring up at her, waiting.

  "Okay, Buster, but you have to stay within the soccer fields, alright?"

  She unhooked his leash and Buster took off like a shot, running through the snow towards the far fence. Just when she started to panic, he turned back towards her and barreled through the snow so fast she was worried he'd knock her over.

  She jumped out of the way, laughing, as he raced past.

  He pivoted again and raced in the other direction, tripping and tumbling through the snow until his coat was as much white as black. She wasn't too worried about him. Newfies were bred to work the fishing waters of Northern Canada. A little snow wasn't going to hurt him.

  He lay down in a big snow bank and started eating the snow in big mouthfuls.

  "Now, now, Buster, enough of that." When she approached him, he jumped up and ran away, turning it into a game.

  She chased after him, winded, but exhilarated. Sometime during their walk, the snow had stopped and now everything was still and silent except for her laughter as she tried to catch him.

  Well, as still and silent as you can be half a mile from a major airport and hundreds of feet from a major freeway. Although, really, given the weather, it was remarkably quiet. So quiet she'd forgotten she was in the middle of a busy metropolitan area.

  That's one of the reasons she loved this little slice of park. It reminded her just a little bit of home.

  "Okay, buddy, time to head back home for a warm cup of cocoa. You may be fine with staying out forever, but I am not." She approached Buster, his leash in her hand, but he took one look at the leash and jumped away.

  He didn't go far. Just far enough that she couldn't reach him.

  She held out a small treat the size of her thumbnail. "Hungry?" she asked, waiting for him to sniff it so she could fasten the leash to his collar.

  He leaned forward, twitching his little black nose in the direction of the treat, still too far away for her to reach.

  He was about to step forward and take it from her when he perked up and stared at something behind her.

  Before she could think to stop him, Buster sprinted across the field, moving faster than she thought was possible in that much snow.

  "Buster, come back here," she shouted, chasing after him.

  He glanced back at her, but kept going. She looked past him to see a lone man, walking along the path at the far end of the soccer fields, bundled against the cold the same way she was.

  As she chased after Buster, she wondered what on earth had possessed him to run over to some random person. This was bad. Buster was an absolute sweetheart, but not everyone knew that, and having an eighty-pound dog come running at you was enough to scare even the most calm of souls.

  "Buster, get back here," she shouted, struggling her way through the snow.

  He glanced back again to make sure she was behind him, but then kept going. That's when she saw the other dog. It was large, gray, shaggy-haired, and skinny.

  Before she could reach Buster, Buster reached the other dog.

  Lindsay held her breath as the two dogs approached each other, praying that the other dog was as friendly as Buster, that it wouldn't take his approach as a threat and attack him.

  The two circled each other, sniffing at each other as dogs do, and then the other dog crouched down on its front paws, butt still in the air, and barked at Buster. Buster barked back at it and the two were off, chasing each other through the snow.

  Lindsay finally reached the man, although by now it was too late because Buster and the other dog were running all over the place, chasing each other, rolling each other in the snow, causing general mayhem.

  "I am so sorry," she said, turning away from the dogs to the man.

  She choked as she found herself staring into the most breathtaking green eyes she'd ever seen.

  "That's okay, it's good for Rufus to have someone to run with," the man said, with a slight accent she couldn't quite place. Irish? Scottish?

  Some days it felt like every single person in DC was from somewhere else.

  He pulled his scarf down so she could see the rest of his face. It matched his eyes—striking and intense. Strong cheekbones and jaw line. Lips that were thin, but soft as they turned upward in a smile. "What's your pup's name?" he asked as she continued to stare at him like a fish out of water.

  "Buster. He's a Newfie. Eight months old. What about Rufus?"

  "Irish Wolfhound. Ten months old and still growing."

  She turned to stare. Already Rufus was tall enough to reach her chest. "How big is he going to get?" she asked, unable to keep the shock out of her voice.

  He laughed. "Big." His eyes flashed with amusement. "I don't like small."

  She quickly looked him up and down. She could see why. He was a good six-two or three himself. Well-built. Not the least bit slender or delicate. The type of man who could stand in the middle of a hurricane and not even move.

  She liked that.

  "I'm Lindsay, by the way," she said, holding out her hand, wishing it weren't so cold that she had to wear gloves. She longed to touch his hand, feel that human connection with him. See if he had a firm grip to go with the eyes.

  "Angus," he said, shaking her hand firmly. "Care to walk with us?"

  She glanced at Buster who showed no sign whatsoever that he'd listen if she tried to call him away and back at Angus with his green eyes and easy smile. "Sure. Why not?"

  They walked and talked about the weather and their dogs as they made their slow way back towards Crystal Drive, Buster and Rufus running ahead or to the side of them, playing like the best of friends.

  By the time they reached 15th again, Buster was covered as much in dog slobber as he was in melted snow. He ran up to her and she took the opportunity to leash him up before he did something stupid like run in front of the one car crazy enough to be out in this weather.

  "Buddy, you are an absolute mess," Lindsay said to Buster as he sat at her feet, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and sides heaving. He'd never looked happier.

  She glanced at Angus. "Well, this is us. I better get him home. We've been out for a good hour now." She bit her lip. "It was nice to meet you."

  "Nice to meet you, too." Angus smiled and she was struck yet again by his eyes. She paused for a half-second to see if he'd ask
for her number or something, but he didn't so she led Buster across Crystal Drive and back towards their apartment building.

  She desperately wanted to glance back to see if Angus was watching. Maybe turn back and ask for his number, see if they could get together again.

  But she didn't.

  She kept walking, cursing herself for a coward the whole time.

  Ah well.

  For her the possibility of someone was always more interesting than the reality of them. Angus was gorgeous and charming and interesting today. But tomorrow? Or next week?

  She shook her head.

  No. Better to just maintain the illusion that great men were out there rather than date them and find out she was wrong.

  * * *

  Of course, that was easier said than done.

  She spent the next week looking for Angus and Rufus everywhere. Normally she only went to Long Bridge once or maybe twice a week, but that week she went every single evening, hoping to run into them again.

  She didn't, though.

  Carla invited her to bring Buster over on Saturday for an early dinner with her and Rob.

  Between Carla's puppy Sophia—a cute little beige mutt with a black snout, Rob's Casper—an adorable black lab, and Buster, it was controlled chaos every time Lindsay went over there. But she appreciated the fact that Carla now understood how she didn't like to leave Buster alone, so invited both of them over.

  As she parked her car, Lindsay noticed that there was a third car in the driveway. A small two-seater BMW that looked brand new or close to it.

  She sighed to herself. Not again…

  Linsday shook her head as she walked Buster towards the small ranch-style brick house, hoping this wasn’t what she thought it was—yet another set-up.

  Ever since Carla and Rob had gotten together—something that had seemed to happen virtually overnight—Carla had been trying to set Lindsay up with one of Rob's friends. So far there'd been the lobbyist who drank more than any human being should be capable of and who had a few political views that weren't in line with Lindsay's (or probably any woman's).