by C. Coal
The girl who'd brought him closed the door, leaving them alone together.
Becky glared at the man as he ruffled Cupid's ears, kissing her nose and laughing as she licked his face. It was hard to deny the truth—the pup adored the man and he seemed to adore her.
"She had a really tough time in the shelter, you know."
The man looked up at her for the first time, his smile faltering. "I'm sure. When I think about her being here…" He shook his head.
"What happened?" She wanted to say, "What kind of horrible irresponsible person loses a dog like that and doesn't even care enough to find her right away?" and it must've shown because he sat up straighter as he answered.
"I had to travel for business. I was gone for ten days."
Becky glanced at Cupid and then back at him.
He held up his hands as if warding off a blow. "Look. I never intended to have a puppy and travel that much. I bought Cupid as a Valentine's gift for my girlfriend. A celebration of our one-year anniversary. I thought my girlfriend would watch her when I traveled."
Becky continued to glare at him. Like she needed his entire life story. She knew what she needed to know already.
He held her gaze and continued. "My girlfriend and I broke up last month. Seems the stress of raising a puppy together was the last straw. I already had this business trip planned, so I asked her to watch Cupid for me one last time."
"And?" Becky crossed her arms, wanting to still be mad at the man.
"And, my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend, took Cupid for a walk in the park. She said Cupid got scared of some big dog and backed out of her leash. My ex tried to find her, but couldn't."
Becky rolled her eyes. "She obviously didn't try all that hard."
He frowned as he scratched Cupid's ears. "I'm not so sure she tried at all." He met Becky's eyes again. "Honestly? I think she may have let Cupid go deliberately."
"Are you serious?"
"I know, I know. Who dates someone like that?" He rubbed at his chin. "Look. I'm not perfect, but I love my dog. I do. When I finally found out that Cupid was missing yesterday morning I immediately cancelled the rest of my trip and flew home to find her. I won't make the same mistake again, I promise you."
Becky stared at Cupid contentedly sprawled in the man's lap, her tongue hanging out as he rubbed her belly. A tear slid its way down Becky's cheek.
The man watched her with sympathy. "You really liked her, huh?"
Becky nodded. "She's the best."
"Well, you're welcome to come visit her if you want. Anytime."
Becky laughed. "I don't think you want to make that offer. I'll be there all the time."
He shrugged. "I wouldn't mind. It'd be nice to have someone around who likes her as much as I do." He kissed Cupid's nose. "Huh, girl."
Becky shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, really. But, I shouldn't. There are tons of dogs here who need a good home, I'll adopt one of them."
She stood and held out the bag of Cupid's things. "Here. I bought these for her. She really loves the hippo."
Cupid scrambled out of his lap and came to nudge at Becky's other hand. Becky bent down and scratched the pup's ears one last time. "You be good for your daddy, okay?"
The man held out a business card. "Here. In case you change your mind."
She took the card and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Thanks. But I won't."
She walked out of the room, struggling not to look back, willing herself not to burst into tears.
She raced out the front door of the shelter and to her car.
There were hundreds of other dogs at the shelter and she knew she should stop and look for another one, but she just wanted to get the hell out of there before she completely lost it.
At least Cupid's dad seemed to love her. That's what counted. She was happy and well taken care of.
Becky tried to believe that, but it didn't make her feel any better.
* * *
Becky went back to the shelter every single day for the next two weeks looking for another dog to adopt, but none compared to Cupid. Day after day she tried, but they just weren't the same as the cute little pup she'd loved and lost in those few days.
Finally, after one too many nights of sitting alone trying not to cry, Becky dug the man's business card out of the pair of jeans on her bathroom floor. It was a wrinkled mess, but still legible. On the front in blue embossed lettering it said his name was Jeff Pierson. He was a lawyer, a partner at some fancy schmancy firm.
On the back he'd scrawled his number and I mean it.
Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number.
"Jeff Pierson." He had a nice voice, deep and soothing.
"Hello, Jeff?"
"Yes?"
She bit her lip and then the words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. "This is Becky, from the shelter? The one who'd adopted Cupid? I was wondering, if you don't mind too much, I mean if you do I understand, but I was wondering if I could see her?"
"Becky. I'm so glad you called." And he really did sound glad. "Cupid has been moping around ever since I brought her home. She carries that hippo with her everywhere. I can't get her to leave it for even a moment. I would've called and asked you to come over sooner, but I didn't have your number. Can you come over tonight?"
"Tonight?"
"Yeah. Right now. What do you think?"
"Um, well, I haven't even eaten dinner yet…"
"Don't worry. I'll order in pizza or something. Just come over. Please?"
"Okay."
Becky ran to her car and drove over to his place—just ten minutes away, thankfully, given the way she sped through every intersection on the way there.
She practically ran up the walk to his cute little ranch-style home with a huge fenced-in yard. It was picture-perfect with white pickets and freshly-mown green grass.
"Over here," Jeff called and she turned to see him coming from the side of the house, his business suit replaced with a pair of running shorts and a Dartmouth t-shirt.
Just as Becky smiled at him, she heard a deep bark and saw Cupid racing towards her, tail wagging, slobber flying.
The pup had grown in the two weeks since Becky had seen her last. She was gangly now, tall enough to reach Becky's waist without even trying. Cupid jumped against the fence, her whole body wriggling in excitement.
"Hey there, sweetie, how are you? It's so good to see you." Becky wiped a tear away as she scratched Cupid's ears and kissed her forehead.
"Here. Why don't you come in?" Jeff opened the gate for her with one hand and held Cupid back with the other, straining to restrain seventy pounds of excited puppy.
"Thanks."
As soon as he let go, Cupid took a running leap and jumped on Becky, knocking her to the ground.
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
Becky laughed shaking her head as Cupid covered her face with kisses. "It's okay." She was muddy, covered in dog slobber, probably had a big bruise on her butt, and she didn't even care. She hadn't felt this happy in days. If ever.
Jeff sat down next to them and for the first time Becky realized just how good-looking he really was. There was something about his smile and the way he watched her with Cupid that made her heart give a little lurch.
"What?" he asked, frowning at her slightly.
"Nothing." She scratched the pup's ears. "So, uh, what kind of name is Cupid anyway?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Seemed to suit her." He smiled at her. "And she did bring us together after all, didn't she?"
Becky blushed. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."
And she had. As Becky sat next to Jeff and watched Cupid chase a ball across the yard, she realized that things had turned out a hundred times better than she ever could've hoped.
She'd thought she was coming to Cupid's rescue, but maybe Cupid had come to hers instead.
Puppy Love Spring Flood
Sadie drove down the steep hill, the knuckles of her hands white where she clutched the steering
wheel. The car's tires barely fit between the tall trees towering over her on either side and with the amount of rain that had slicked the road she wondered if she'd make it to the bottom without sliding off to one side or the other, especially at each short, sharp turn. At least the narrow path into the dog park was paved.
If not, it'd've been washed out already with all the rain they'd had in the last week.
She just prayed no one would try to drive up while she was driving down. Not that anyone else would be foolish enough to come to the park on a day like this. She didn't think it was going to rain again, but it certainly had been all week.
Her golden retriever puppy, Hunter, barked from the back of the car, his tail wagging in excitement. He knew exactly where they were headed—his favorite place on the planet.
"We're almost there, buddy. Just another minute or so."
She glanced to the side as they finally reached the bottom. The footbridge was flooded—a steady stream of water flowing past where the bridge had once connected the walking path with a nearby condominium community. She thought about turning back, but Hunter was so excited and the bridge into the dog park was much higher, so she turned left and continued on her way, winding along the side of the raging river that had once been a gentle stream.
Mommy guilt, it was a killer. She'd had to travel for work—four whole days away, leaving her six-month-old puppy at the local kennel for the first time—and she hated it. Hunter seemed fine with it. Every time she tuned in to watch him on the live feed he was playing with the other dogs or passed out exhausted from playing. But she still felt guilty.
Especially when he'd sulked at her when she picked him up, staring up at her with those big brown puppy eyes like she'd wrenched his little heart right out of his chest, and then when he'd relented and jumped all over her, covering her in frantic puppy kisses that seemed to say "never leave me again."
As soon as they left the kennel, she'd made a beeline here. Let him run and play outside and remember what a wonderful, great puppy parent she was before they had to go home to the apartment and spend the rest of the day locked inside to avoid the next round of rainstorms.
Of course, she hadn't banked on the effects of so much rain over such a short period of time. The ground was a muddy mess, the parking lot full of potholes that hadn't been there a week before, the trees still dripping wet even though it hadn't rained in hours.
She let Hunter free when they reached the bridge into the dog park. He raced across, slipping and sliding on the wet planks of the wooden bridge, and rolled right into a big mud puddle at the end.
How he managed to land in such a way that his entire coat was covered in mud, she'd never know, but he did it like a pro. By the time he was done there wasn't one spot left that wasn't plastered in mud.
He barked happily and raced across the small clearing and into the trees that climbed a gentle slope the length of the park.
Sadie followed at a more sedate pace. As she crossed the bridge, she glanced down at the churning waters. Normally the stream flowed along, meandering its way to wherever it went after the park, almost lazy in its progress. Now water bubbled and pushed its way forward, frothing white as it dragged long branches along with it. She was glad Hunter had run into the woods instead of towards the bank. There was no way he could swim in water flowing that fast.
The water was high, too. Only six inches away from the bottom of the bridge as opposed to its normal four feet or so.
It was okay. There was another bridge at the end of the park. And a path up the hillside if she really, really needed it. She wasn't sure how she'd get back to the car if it came to the hillside path, but they could do it if they had to.
Not that it would come to that.
It wasn't supposed to rain for a couple more hours and this wasn't an area for snow runoff, so the water wouldn't rise. She didn't think it would at least.
She glanced back at the water one last time before turning towards the woods.
"Hunter." She pulled the collar of her jacket closer as the trees dripped onto her head.
She looked for signs of Hunter, but now that he was covered in mud he was almost impossible to see.
Sadie followed a hint of movement up the left side of the hill. Her feet slipped in the mud as she climbed and she only kept herself from falling by grabbing a nearby branch which showered extra water down the back of her coat.
She wiped her hand on her jeans and shoved it into her coat pocket. Why hadn't she thought to bring gloves? It was still March after all.
She continued to the top of the hill and found Hunter waiting, feet planted apart, his tongue lolling out to the side.
"You have to stick with me today, buddy. It's a little insane here, okay?"
As soon as she was just one step from being able to grab his collar, Hunter turned and ran again.
Sighing to herself, Sadie followed.
Hunter ran all over the hill for the next half hour, up and down and across, sometimes dashing along the ridge, sometimes dipping down into the trees along the many trails that ran through the park. Always, he kept just that little bit ahead of her so she couldn't catch him and put him back on leash.
Hunter was completely in his element, barking and leaping small logs in a single bound, racing between tree limbs like they were his own personal obstacle course.
Sadie not so much. She slipped and fell in the mud three times. Fortunately, she was in jeans and hiking boots instead of work pants and tennies, but it still wasn't a lot of fun to be wet and muddy and cold.
When Hunter finally collapsed in exhaustion at the top of the hill, Sadie sighed in relief as she leashed him up and led him back towards the parking lot.
"Come on, buddy. Let's get out of here and get home where it's warm."
He followed along at her side, quiet and dutiful until they reached the bridge. It was still passable, thankfully, but barely. The water had risen so that it was now lapping at the base of the bridge, small splashes of water flowing across the planks every few seconds as the water surged a little higher.
"Let's go, buddy. Time to get out of here before this water gets any higher."
Hunter jumped backward, jerking his head from side to side as he tried to get away from her and the bridge.
"What's wrong, Hunter? You just crossed this bridge not an hour ago. Come on. Let's go."
But Hunter refused.
Sadie stopped trying to pull him forward, afraid he'd pull out of the collar and run away into the trees. She licked her lips as she studied Hunter, trying to figure out how to get him across the bridge.
Thunder sounded in the distance; dark clouds piled high on the horizon turned the skies a sickly shade of gray.
"It's not supposed to rain yet," she muttered to herself.
But just her luck it looked like the weather forecast had been wrong.
She tried again. "Come on, Hunter. We have to go. NOW."
Hunter jumped backward again, twisting frantically from side to side and jerked free of his collar.
They both stared at one another for a frozen moment of time and then she lunged forward and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck before he could think to run away. She got the collar back on him and tightened it up enough that he wouldn't be able to slip out again.
"Don't do that to me, buddy. Please."
The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and lightning flashed in the sky.
Hunter trembled, pushing against her legs.
"See? We don't want to be out in this. Now come on. Let's go."
But as soon as they approached the bridge, Hunter started fighting her again. She tried to pick him up but fifty pounds of frightened, squirming puppy scared of a bridge and a thunderstorm was too much for her to handle. She fell on her butt in a mud puddle as Hunter broke free. He eyed her warily, his entire body shaking.
"Okay. Okay. We'll try the other bridge." That one led to a foot path on the other side of the river that should be passable still.
>
Sadie picked herself up, trying not to notice how the mud clung to her jeans and the cold of the approaching storm worked its way under her windbreaker.
As soon as she led Hunter away from the bridge he calmed down and followed along behind her as obedient as could be. He still shivered with each peal of thunder and burst of lightning, but he didn't fight her.
She glanced at the sky, now completely gray with constant flashes of lightning.
"Almost there, buddy. Almost there."
Was it her imagination or had the river started to roar? She glanced to the side and saw the water frothing white as it plunged along, dragging a tree limb the size of her waist downriver.
Her and her stupid decisions…
They came around the corner and Sadie almost cried. The other bridge was flooded. Not just the bridge itself but the path for three feet on either side.
She should've known. This end of the park was lower than the other end.
It wasn't much water. Maybe they could make it across? But no. It was never a good idea to step into moving water like that. How many people had done something like that in a car and been swept away? If water could sweep away a car, what could it do to one woman and her puppy?
Rain started pelting her skin, hard and cold, coming down fast. She fled with Hunter back into the shelter of the trees.
There was no choice for it. They needed to get out of here now. And the only choice was the other bridge. She had to find a way to force Hunter across.
"Come on, buddy. Let's go back the other way."
She ran towards the other bridge, Hunter prancing at her heels like it was all a fun game, until they came within sight of the first bridge and he jerked back on the leash.
"Come on, Hunter. We have to go."
Hunter sat down in the mud. The bridge was just ten feet away across the muddy clearing. And her car just ten feet past that. Twenty feet. That's all she needed.
"Come on, buddy. Want a treat?"
She held a salmon training treat under his nose. He snuffled at her hand, but when she tried to get him to step forward, he sat back down.