“Oh, you got a bunch of stuff already,” he says, as I open the back of my Bronco, showing him the small fortune I spent on a dog I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep.
He’s quiet for a long moment.
Mocha comes over, sits down in front of him, and looks up at him with big puppy eyes.
Beckett lets out a huff and bends down to pick him up.
“He’s some kind of Aussie,” he mumbles more to himself than to me.
Mocha’s tongue darts out and licks Beckett’s nose. I swear I see a ghost of a smile on his lips.The two of them stare at each other for a long time before Beckett breaks the silence. “Fine, but you have to train him, and you have to clean up after him.”
“AHHHHH!” I squeal, doing an excited dance and jumping into Beckett’s arms. He catches me easily, despite his arms being full.
He carries us both into the house as we attack his face with a million kisses.
“Ok, you two.” He laughs, putting us down on the couch.
I smile up at him, and he has a tender, almost affectionate look in his eyes.
“Go give him a bath, and I’ll bring all his stuff in and see what you got,” he says, turning back towards the door.
“Beck.”
“Yeah?” he asks, pausing for a moment with his hand on the door.
“Thanks,” I say before he nods and walks outside.
“You are going to be the bestest, most well-behaved pup in the whole world,” I coo, smooshing Mocha’s cute little face.
I go outside and carry an armful of stuff in, mostly just looking for soap.
As I run past Beckett, I kiss his cheek, and he smacks my butt playfully.
I dart up the stairs to my bathroom and fill the tub with a little bit of warm, soapy water. When it's a few inches deep, I place Mocha in it.
He’s not quite sure what to think about it at first. He kinda just looks at me, all scared. I use my hands as a cup and dump water on his back.
“It’s ok, little guy, this is fun,” I coo, trying to show him that the water isn’t scary.
I scrub him up really well and rinse him off. I can’t see fleas or other types of bugs on him, but just to be safe, when I get him out of the tub and dry him off, I spray him down with some bug repellant.
“It’s ok, sweet baby,” I say, kissing his head and holding him to me as he trembles a little from not being in the warm water. “I’m going to be the best mommy to you ever. I might not know how to do that, but we’ll figure it out together,” I whisper, nuzzling my face into his fur.
I look up and see Beckett leaning against the doorframe, and my cheeks tinge pink, hoping he hasn’t heard what I said. The look in his eyes tells me that he did.
“All his stuff is set up downstairs, and it looks like you got a little bit of everything,” he says, helping me up and letting me leave the bathroom first.
I walk downstairs with Mocha still bundled up in my arms.
I go to the laundry room, seeing the kennel and all the other stuff already set up for him.
There’s even some food and water set out; both dry food and wet. I throw the towel into the dirty clothes hamper and sit down on the floor, setting Mocha down so that he can eat.
Beckett stands in the doorway, watching us. I pull my knees up to my chest and lay my cheek on my knee as I watch the little guy eat some of the food and drink almost all the water.
My heart feels full as I watch him, and for whatever reason, I feel a little emotional.
I shouldn’t be relating my situation to that of a puppy that was literally homeless less than two hours ago, but maybe that’s why I felt so drawn to the little guy.He was just begging for a second chance.
