“There you are, sweetheart,” I murmur, bending down to rub her ears.
Cole watches the interaction quietly.
“She follows you everywhere, doesn’t she?” he asks.
“Pretty much,” I say. “That’s Daisy.”
Daisy glances at him politely, decides he’s acceptable, and then immediately goes back to leaning against my leg like her job is to keep me upright.
The peace lasts about two seconds.
Then Moose crashes into the room.
He’s huge. Part lab, part something enormous and slobbery, and he skids across the wood floor chasing a tennis ball that somehow appears in his mouth the second he notices we have company.
The ball drops directly onto Cole’s boot.
Moose stares up at him expectantly.
Cole looks down at the slobbery tennis ball now resting against his foot.
“Don’t do it,” I say.
Cole glances at me.
“Don’t do what?”
“Throw the ball.”
Cole bends down and picks it up.
Moose’s entire body vibrates with anticipation.
Cole tosses the ball gently across the room.
Moose launches after it like a missile.
“Great,” I sigh. “Now he’s never leaving you alone.”
Cole watches the dog skid across the living room and bring the ball right back.
“He seems enthusiastic.”
“That’s Moose,” I tell him. “His entire personality is ball.”
Moose drops it again.
Cole looks at me.
“You created this.”
Before I can answer, a blur streaks across the floor.
Something tiny and frantic darts between Cole’s boots like a caffeinated squirrel.
“What the.”
“That’s Cricket,” I say quickly.
