Fox - Guys & Dogs

The kiss was bad.

Times like this, Sutter Foley wished he did have an

Sutter Foley was sitting in his car at the light

Sutter hated dogs.

Will that be all? the clerk at the pharmacy chirped.

The puppy immediately took off.

Megan opened the door to Penelopes Mercedes sedan and slid

Sutters hands gripped her shoulders as his lips crushed hers.

The following weekend Sutter found himself pacing the house. Martina

If you knew who he was, why did you ask?

Hi! she said buoyantly. I hope Im not interrupting anything.

Miss Montgomery is here. Arnettas voice over the intercom was

Excuse me, Megan said, too abruptly, and turned to push

Penelope and Megan rounded the corner of the animal hospital

Sutter entered the animal hospital with Twister straining on the

I cant do it, Aunt Edna, he said to the

Saturday afternoon Megan set off. She closed the animal hospital

I told you shed come up with something. Montgomery marched

The kiss was bad.

His tongue was everywhereacross her lips, on her chin, her cheeksbut he looked something like Brad Pitt so she went with it.

It didnt improve.

Plus, he smelled bad. She turned her head away and noticed a crick in her neck. Then she realized she was not on a Caribbean island but in her own bed, in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Finally, she opened her eyes.

Jerking awake, she gasped into the hot breath of a hairy, grinning face.

Megan was on her feet in the center of her bed before she realized that shed moved.

Beside the bed, with its dirty front paws on her pillow, stood a young golden retriever, wagging a long feathered tail and grinning with the friendly self-confidence only a golden retriever could exude while being gaped at in shock.

Trouble was, Megan didnt own a golden retriever.

Nor had she ever seen this dog before. Which might have been unusual considering she was the vet who ran the local animal hospital, but she was new to the job. And the town.

As her heart rate slowly edged back toward normal, Megan knelt down on the bed and reached out a hand to the dog, who licked it twice, then recommenced smiling and wagging at her.

Megan wasnt fooled. This dog had broken into her house. It was not bent on pleasing people for anything other than its own purposes. She raised a skeptical brow at it.

Well, hello, uh She leaned on one elbow and craned her neck to look under the dogs hind end. Hello, girl. Whered you come from?

Edging to the side of the bed, she scratched the dog behind an ear and did a cursory examination, mostly out of habit. The doga mere adolescent, six or seven months by the look and build of herstretched luxuriantly under her touch. Since it put up with that so magnanimously, Megan went for the collar.

True to formand in the spirit of most dogs favorite game, catch me if you canthe pup twisted sharply the moment it realized what she was up to and writhed expertly out of her grasp, taking off down the stairs.

Megan sighed. Teenagers .

Getting out of bed and pulling on some sweatpants under her tee shirt, she listened for any sounds of destruction. From what she heard downstairs, she surmised the puppy had found her own dog, Peytona big, tricolored bear of a Bernese mountain dogin her crate next to the stairs. The sounds of toenails on hardwood mixed with frantic tail thumps on the side of the crate and throaty whines of longing were clear giveaways.

How the pup had missed Peyton on the way up was a mystery, but after a bit of scratching and whining the interloper resorted to a short, high bark. Then another. By the time Megan reached the stairs the golden was down on its elbows, butt in the airplay bowingas if Peyton werent actually closed up in the crate but for some reason just playing hard to get.

Come here, puppydog, she called, walking past the golden on the way to the kitchen, thereby short-circuiting the dogs play instinct to run away. A Milk Bone would convince it that having its collar and tags examined was not tantamount to torture. Come on! Come let me find out who you belong to.

She entered the kitchen and found her father, hair mashed and spiky from sleep, threadbare bathrobe hanging from hunched shoulders, seated at the table, nursing a cup of coffee.

Oh. Hey, Dad, she said, looking for signs of vitality in his sagging face. He hadnt been home when shed gone to bed last night, and she was fairly certain he was the reason shed woken up at three this morning. He never seemed to learn that those late, hard-drinking nights resulted in these less-than-idyllic mornings. Either that or there was so much brain damage from years of this that he forgot by the time night fell again that it was a bad idea.

He looked at her with watery eyes. Hey, doll.

Despite the fact that Megan had grown up thinking it was just his nickname for her, shed come to learn that her father called all women doll. The mistake was understandableshed only spoken to him about once a year after the age of nine, when her parents had split upbut she still felt a pinprick of disappointment whenever he called her that now.

A few months ago, in a fit of missing her mother, whod died of cancer several years before, Megan had decided to leave the animal hospital in Connecticut where shed worked since graduating from vet school and move to Virginia to get to know her father better. In the week since shed moved into his home here to take over his veterinary practice, shed not only learned that women were dolls but that men were sports. Unless they were assholes. And the later in the evening it was, which meant the more he drank, the more dolls and assholes there seemed to be.

Now he mustered a wry smile and said, Whats with all the barking? I thought that dog of yours was supposed to be quiet.

She is. Megan looked at the back door, noted that the dog hatch was not locked as it should be, and concluded that this was how the extra dog had made it onto her bed. Didnt you notice someone strange coming through the dog door just now?

He straightened. Huh?

Grabbing the box of dog bones and shaking it, she whistled sharply. The apparently delicious sound of meat treats in cardboard had the desired effect on both dogs. The puppy came running, while Peyton whined pitifully in her crate.

Who the hell is that? her father queried.

She held a bone out and the puppy nabbed it like a Zen master capturing a fly. She inhaled it just as fast and looked expectantly back up at Megan.

An unexpected visitor, Megan said. She just woke me up. And on a Sunday, the one day I can sleep in. Bad dog.

Her father chuckled.

Megan held a bone up out of reach and said, Sit!

The dog continued wagging its tail and gazed at her in gleeful ignorance.

Her father harrumphed. Probably not housebroken either.

Megan folded her arms across her chest and sustained eye contact with the puppy, whose optimism that another bone was in the offing was undiminished by her stern look. I dont know. It recognized the dog door. And its wearing a collar. Somebody obviously owns this dog.

She dropped her arms, lowered the treat to knee level and said, Come!

The puppy bounded toward her and snapped up the bone.

Good dog! Megan grabbed the collar and before the dog could resist offered another treat. Distracted, the puppy stood chewing while Megan examined the tag.