“It’s well-deserved. Miss Brashears is a strict judge.”
Pausing for a moment, I look into the dog’s big brown eyes, and I remember my spirit animal’s message. Even if it was a mushroom trip, my heaviness eases, and I decide to let hope walk beside me the way Heather said.
“He has a good heart. I can always tell.”
The dog owner says more words of gratitude, and I give her a wave.
Walking out to my car, I remember the last time I judged a last-minute, out-of-town show. The fuel pump went out on this silly car, and he came to save me.
I think about that night in the hotel room, all the things we said and shared. It gives me an idea for one last thing to try.
“Haveyou been on the couch all weekend?” Mav bustles through the front door, dropping his duffel and carrying his gym bag to the laundry room.
I’m lying on my stomach, watching bad reality television. The kind that makes me feel better about myself. At least I’m notthatfucked up.
“No!” My tone is defensive. “I went to Haddy’s on Friday, and we did a lot of planning for the charity show. She needs you to give her the date of a free Saturday to teach you all how to walk your dogs.”
“Pretty sure I know how to walk a dog, Geeg.” He passes me on his way from the laundry to his bedroom.
“Then I judged a dog show this afternoon. It was pretty exciting.”
“How so?” He takes off his blazer and hangs it in the front closet.
He really is a handsome man, which is funny to think, considering we grew up together. He looks more like his dad every day, which is saying a lot. Tall, dark, and handsome, but with those Bradford blue eyes just like Haddy and Knox. I’m the only one with green eyes like my mom.
“I spotted a fake nut.” I do a little cupping motion with my hand.
Mav’s brow crinkles in horror. “What the hell does that mean?”
“We had this new dog today, a whippet, and he had a plastic testicle.”
“Why would you ever give a dog a plastic nut?”
“The owner clearly thought I wouldn’t catch it.” I dust off my shoulder, returning to the couch. “Clearly, he didn’t know who he was messing with. I had Lisa verify before we ejected him from the competition.”
“Dang.” Mav disappears into his room for a few minutes before returning in sweat pants and a long-sleeve tee. “That’s harsh, Gina.”
“I know.” My lips twist sadly. “I get so frustrated when owners try shit like that. Dogs have feelings, too, you know, and he was the smartest little hound. I liked him.”
“Does this mean our house is going to get TP’d again?” Mav flops onto the couch beside me.
My nose wrinkles, and I look in the direction of the front door. “I hope not.”
“Stink bomb in the mailbox?”
“That really hurts Mr. Gibson more than me. We need to set up a Ring camera or something to capture footage. Turn them in to the feds.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” He shifts on the couch beside me. “What’re we watching tonight?Best in Show?”
“I just watched that with Heather.Frankenweenie?”
“Nah, that’s a Halloween film. It’s after Thanksgiving. By the way, Friendsgiving next Tuesday?”
“I’ll check with Haddy.Turner and Hooch?”
“Sure.”
It might be just the two of us, but putting my head on Mav’s shoulder, watching Tom Hanks adjust to life with an oversized mastiff is just the comfort-watch I need.
