Feliz Naughty Dog - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,41
rushed toward Lucas, who was doing his best to hold on to Tor.
“Where is she?” she asked.
He nodded toward a round table laden with bras of every imaginable size. “Under the underwear.”
“I’ll get her.” She flew to the table, lifted the skirt, and the minute she did, Buttercup shot out with a pathetic little bark and a roll over the carpet. Pru reached for her, but Tor was faster, breaking free from Lucas and diving toward the little dog.
For a moment, they all froze, but Tor gently eased his teeth over the back of the puppy’s neck, lifting her tenderly like a prize.
“You got the puppy, Tor!” Lucas exclaimed. “Quick, Pru. Get a picture. That’s gotta be worth some RACK points.”
Her heart practically folded that he cared about her silly contest when there were so many other problems at hand, but she did manage to get a shot or two, then a ten-second video as Tor took a few steps, and some shoppers gathered around the underwear displays and started to clap.
“Feliz naughty dog,” one of them sang out, making everyone laugh.
“Feliz naughty dog,” someone else sang in the same tune, getting another cheer, so loud it made the puppy squirm, so Pru reached down to ease her out of Tor’s mouth.
“You are not a naughty dog,” she cooed in Buttercup’s ear. “And neither are you, Tor.” She petted his head and smiled up at Lucas. “You want to take this little girl back to The Animal House?”
“As quickly and quietly as possible.” He tugged Tor’s leash and brought him close to nuzzle his head, but his gaze stayed on Pru. “Did you get those bras in the photo?”
Her eyes widened, and she looked back at the table. “I might have. Why?”
He shrugged, some merriment in his dark eyes. “Might give a new meaning to RACK it up.”
She cracked up, waving to the small crowd and snuggling Buttercup close to her.
They were still smiling when they made their way back to the pet store, forced to stop for the carolers, let the train go by, and pause for shoppers to coo over Tor and the puppy. For his part, the greyhound never veered far from Buttercup, sniffing occasionally and licking her little ears.
When they reached the pet store, the same woman stood at the entry, but this time, they weren’t greeted with a warm hello. Her scowl shifted to a shocked gasp when she saw Buttercup in Pru’s arms.
“David!” she called into the store. “They’re returning him! They’ve surrendered Buttercup.”
Surrendered? Pru shot her a look, taking a breath to launch a defense, but Lucas put a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t sweat it, Pru. Let’s just get the dog back and get out of here.”
“There he is!” The manager, David, pointed right at Lucas, and the man with a camera on his shoulder swung around. “That’s the boy that caused all this trouble. And his dog.”
“Wait a sec—”
But Lucas added some pressure to quiet Pru. “Just give them the dog. Tor and I will stay outside.”
Before she could argue, he backed away, using his strength to guide Tor out of the store.
“That’s right,” David called after him. “Slink off, puppy thief.”
A jolt of indignation rocked Pru. “He’s not a puppy thief!”
David just rolled his eyes as he came around the counter. “Let me have her.” He reached out to grab Buttercup, and she instinctively backed up to protect the puppy.
“Be gentle,” she warned.
“Oh, that’s rich,” David snorted. “After what you and your loser boyfriend put us through today.”
“He’s not a loser.” Fury straightened her back, and something even more powerful made her turn to the camera, knowing it was trained on her and, if that red light meant anything, recording. “He’s a great kid who spent his entire day trying to perform dozens of Random Acts of Christmas Kindness, including running through this mall trying to find a puppy who, I must say, should have been better protected.”
“Excuse me?” David spat the question.
“He should have been,” Pru said, speaking to the camera lens. “I speak from knowledge, since my grandfather and all my uncles run a canine rescue and training center, my mom’s a vet, and my dad trains therapy dogs.” The authority rolled off her tongue, spurred on by just how wrong this situation was. “Those puppies were being held in a flimsy pen that a child could knock over, and frankly, this store is lucky they didn’t lose more. It was pet negligence, actually, and they should be cited.”
“Okay,