Page 86 of The Last Viking

Chapter Fifteen

“RUFF! RUFF!”

Meredith’s eyes shot open to bright sunlight and a rumpled bed. Had someone been shouting, “Rolf! Rolf!”?

Disoriented, her sluggish brain slowly registered that she’d just awakened from an exceptionally deep sleep and that it was very late. A quick glance at her alarm clock showed it was almost eleven o’clock. Eleven o’clock! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that late, if ever.

“RUFF! RUFF!”

The noise came from downstairs, followed immediately by Rolf muttering, “Oh, shit!” or was it, “Oh, no! Shit”?

The loud barking noise, not someone shouting “Rolf,” was what had awakened her, she realized. Barking? Before she had a chance to assimilate the implications of barking, she heard thundering footfalls running down the hallway, around the living room, and then up the steps.

“Come back here,” Rolf yelled. “You’ll spoil the surprise.”

The surprise—about a hundred pounds of dirty white fur on a creature that resembled a cross between a sheepdog and a small bear—barreled through her doorway, took a flying leap, and landed on top of her, causing her to fall back on the pillow. Then the animal, which wore a bright red bow around its neck, proceeded to lick her face and neck and hair with a wet tongue the size of a man’s tie. Dog hair was flying everywhere.

“Dog, get off Merry-Death. She’s sleeping,” Rolf said irritably, coming into the room.

Dog propped his front paws on her shoulders, pinning her to the bed. The rest of his body sprawled over her like a living rug.

She leveled a glare at Rolf. “You are in big trouble.”

“Oh, you’re awake, sweetling.”

“No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open,” she snapped. “What makes you think the racket you two made lumbering around downstairs didn’t wake me up? What makes you think the sound of barking wouldn’t wake me up? Did you expect me to think it was you barking? And what makes you think a dog the size of a horse lapping my face like an ice cream cone wouldn’t wake me up?”

“I think Dog likes you,” Rolf declared brightly, sitting on the edge of the bed near her.

“Hah! What’s wrong with its eye?” It must have been injured in an accident, because one side of its face was twisted upward, leaving its right eye half closed and its mouth elevated off-center in a harelip fashion. The result was that the dog looked as if it was winking and grinning all the time.

“It ran into a cow that didn’t appreciate having its face licked. Dog is a very affectionate fellow, and very sensitive.” He said this last in a hushed whisper. “So, we must be careful what we say about his appearance.”

“Rolf, I don’t want a dog.”

“See, you’ve hurt his feelings.”

The dog didn’t seem any different to her, except…oh, geez, was that a tear in its eye?

“You must not judge him by his minor imperfections, Merry-Death. In my opinion, his defects will not detract from his being a fierce guard dog for you when I am gone.”

“Guard dog! This animal couldn’t guard its own tail,” she sputtered and refused to think about Rolf’s when-I-am-gone remark. “You’re taking this dog back where you got him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll kill him if I take him back.”

She groaned and tried to sit up. Rolf helped her by pulling the dog by its ribbon collar. Finally, the dog gave in and decided to favor Rolf with a good face slobbering.

“Who’ll kill him?” she asked against her better judgment.

“The animal shelter where I purchased him. Nobody wants him. Is that not incredible, Merry-Death?”

They both looked at the dog, which jumped—plopped would be a better description—off the bed and ambled around the room, sniffing. Probably searching for a fire hydrant. Then, with a frenzied yipping, the dog discovered the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door and began barking ferociously at itself. Its contorted face gave it a comical expression, as if it was making weird faces on purpose.

“You said once that you always wanted a Great Dane, sweetling, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give you such a mongrel breed. Danes are really not so great, you know.”