“Don’t worry about it,” I assure him before answering.“Yeah, nice, and the food was really good.”
“Sure is,” he confirms, dipping his spoon in the soup.“As is yours, my dear.”
“It’s just soup,” I remind him, with a self-deprecating chuckle.“No culinary handstands here.”
“Nothing wrong with wholesome grub, don’t sell yourself short.”
I shrug, never quite sure what to do with a compliment, and quickly change topics.
“You mentioned a dog last night…”
Buck drops his spoon and completely twists around.
“You want him?”
I lift my hands defensively.“Not so fast.I’d…I think maybe I’d like to meet him though.”
“Absolutely.This afternoon?”
“Well…umm…I guess.It would have to be after I close up here.”
The momentI set foot in the door, I’m almost bowled over by a mostly blond, knee-high, hairy whirlwind, trying to jump up on me.
“Easy, boy,” Buck walks up, scolding the dog as he grabs him by the collar.
The dog’s pink tongue is lolling from his mouth as he seems to be smiling up at me, his big paws clawing at the air in his attempts to get to me.
“He’s already taken a shine to you,” Buck points out.
“Wait…”
Thisis the puppy he was talking about?If he’s this big now, what kind of giant will he turn into?
I’m pretty sure when Buck mentioned the pup last night, he said something about it not being too big.He also mentioned the animal being underfed.I beg to differ on both accounts.I’m willing to bet this dog never missed a meal in his life.
“This is him?The malnourished puppy you were referring to?”
Buck at least has the grace to look a bit sheepish.
“Well, he was mighty hungry when I got him out of that box.”
“Must’ve been a refrigerator box,” I mumble, but I can’t resist holding out my hand, which immediately is bathed in puppy love.
I have to admit, he seems like a sweet boy.
“He’s only three months old?”
The older man shrugs.“Maybe a month or two older.”
Obviously Buck is not averse to tweaking the facts a little to get his foot in the door.It clearly worked on me.I was expecting a little fluffy thing.
“He’s got a lot of fur.”
The dog shifts slightly to sit on my feet and lean against my legs, as I scratch him behind the ears.In my head I’m already trying to fit him into my life.
“It’s hair, actually.He doesn’t shed,” Buck explains.“I’m pretty sure he’s some kind of doodle; part poodle, part whatever else.Hypoallergenic, most of them.”
That would certainly be helpful.Wouldn’t want to be covered in dog fur when you spend a lot of time in the kitchen.
