Scott looked up to see the librarian—or at least the man he assumed was the librarian—come around the corner with a cart full of books.
To his horror, the other man started shelving them, apparently not in any particular hurry.
The puppy Scott had hidden inside his coat whimpered.
The librarian paused and glanced over.
Scott looked intently at his laptop, ignoring the sound.
The puppy whimpered again.
Scott could feel his face going red, the knowledge that he was about to get caught making his pulse pound in his ears.
He shushed the puppy as softly as he could, petting it through his coat to soothe it. He just needed it to be quiet for a few more seconds.
“Are you okay?” the librarian asked.
Scott looked over at him, unsure how to respond. His nametag said Charlie.
“I’m fine,” Scott lied, unsure that he was being particularly convincing. He could feel the puppy squirming inside his coat, but he wasn’t sure whether or not it was obvious.
Just as Charlie nodded, about to look away, the puppy poked its head out of Scott’s coat. He had it zipped up halfway to let some air in while still keeping it warm and dark, but apparently it was puppy play time now.
Charlie gasped, his mouth falling open into a perfect ‘O’ shape.
Scott’s stomach turned. He was about to get banned from the only library in town in the first semester of his degree.
“Is that a puppy?” Charlie asked.
“Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t?”
Accepting that he’d been caught, Scott cuddled the puppy closer, stopping it from escaping his coat. It was only about two weeks old, so it needed the warmth.
“No. Not if there’s an opportunity to tell it it’s a good boy,” Charlie said.
“You’re not throwing me out?” Scott asked, surprised at how this situation was going so far.
Charlie looked up and down the row of shelves the same way Scott had before. “I won’t tell if you won’t. The spirit of the no dogs rule is to keep them from eating the books. The books don’t seem to be in danger.”
Scott breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, man. I gotta keep the little guy with me.”
“He seems really small. What breed is he?” Charlie asked, abandoning his cart of books to stand beside Scott’s desk.
“He’s a Golden Retriever, as far as we can tell. Not sure if he's mixed with something else. He’s not old enough to be away from his mother,” Scott said, unscrewing the top of his water bottle. If Charlie was interested, he was happy to talk about dogs all day.
“Weird, you don’t look like a Golden Retriever mom at all. Except maybe around the eyes.”
Scott snorted. If either of them had puppy eyes, it was Charlie. Even behind his glasses, he had the kind of big, soft eyes Scott couldn’t say no to when they were on a dog.
He’d probably have just as much trouble with Charlie if they were friends. It took him a little longer to warm up to people than dogs, but once he did, they had his loyalty for life.
“We found him abandoned. I was the only foster carer who could handle a puppy this young, so…”
“So you’re a daddy now,” Charlie finished for him.
“Pretty much,” Scott agreed. “I’m not ignoring you, I just need to feed him.”
“Is that milk?” Charlie asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to give that to dogs.”
