TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,23
Liam bowled over in hysterics watching as the little bitch pops a squat right on top of the almost fifty-dollar stuffed monkey. Yep, the one I just spent half the day driving out to the mall for. The ass doesn’t even try to stop her.
“Ungrateful little vermin.”
He’s still winding down from his fit of laughter when he asks whether I want to take the dog out or clean up her mess.
“Excuse me? What part of me not wanting anything to do with this pet situation did you not comprehend?”
“Midge has to be taught to go outside when she makes a mistake—”
“Mistake?” I screech cutting him off. “That looked very intentional from where I’m standing.”
“Look, someone needs to take her now. If I do both, the urine will dry into the carpet while we’re out there. You gotta meet me halfway.”
Sucking my lips to my teeth, I bend to lift the dog by the loose skin behind the neck. I stretch my arm, holding her as far from my person as possible. “I’ll take it out. You can clean the mess. Just throw the monkey away… I can’t believe she did that.”
“She’s a dog, babe… She was marking her territory. It’s what they do… means she liked it.”
“She pissed on it!” I shout into the phone, ignoring Hanna’s muffled giggling while I stomp around the backyard, leaves crunching under my feet, with the dog I never wanted but have somehow become responsible for. She won’t even allow me to sit on the swing while she goes on her quest for the perfect spot to potty, because she won’t leave my side. She just stands there looking up at me like she has no clue what to do. If she thinks I’m going to piss in the yard to demonstrate, she’s barking up the wrong tree. “I think Ellie’s new dog is stupid.”
“Why do you think that?” Hannah, like Liam, is amused by my distaste for this animal and makes no attempt to hide that fact.
“She stays up my ass no matter how many times I shoo her away and yell at her. She won’t do her business outside unless I’m practically holding her paw, and she peed on her new bedmate!”
“You’re her person. You should be flattered…she chose you, Mama.”
I shake my head as she sniffs the toe of my shoe. “See? Why the hell would she choose me? Estupido!”
Midge finally locates a spot not more than three inches from where I’m standing, effectively distracting me from my call. She sniffs and sniffs, then spins in a complete circle twice before locking eyes with me and crouching her hind legs. I find myself sending up a silent prayer that this is it—that this little patch of grass is what we’ve been searching for, for damn near ten minutes. Then it happens, and I swear a beam of light shoots down from the heavens as she flexes her little stomach muscles, lifts her nubby tail, and makes the tiniest miniature mound of poop! I get the sudden unwelcome urge to lift her into my arms and hug the little monster. I don’t, of course, and I’d never tell a soul the disturbing thought ever crossed my mind. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. “Good girl,” I say instead. “That’s a good doggie!” The beast cocks her head to the side, wagging her whole behind as I praise her for her good deed.
“Annnd she’s a goner,” I hear Hannah say through the speaker of the phone still clutched in my palm, reminding me she’s still on the line.
“Am not.” I lift it back to my ear, heat flaming in my cheeks. “I’m just trying that thing you said to do when she does something I like. Positive reinforcement. Beastie just pooped in the grass! Maybe she’s trainable after all.”
“There just might be hope for you yet.”
“You mean the dog?”
“Her too… Hey, you know there’s nothing wrong with changing your mind, right? About Midge or a certain sexy baby daddy we both know and lo—”
“Hannah…” I do not need this right now.
“I’m just saying, there’s a reason neither of you have ever truly moved on, and I think he’s really sorry. He’s been sorry for a long, long time, actually. Maybe the timing wasn’t right for you two before, but I really think it is now. I just don’t want your stubborn nature to get in the way of your happiness.”
My stomach sinks and absentmindedly I lift the little dog in my hands, placing