Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(44)

“He’s probably dehydrated and hungry as fuck,” I predicted.

“Get the pellets,” she ordered. “And bring me the water bottle I dropped.”

I did as instructed. Shelby cupped her hands in front of the puppy, and I poured the now warm water into her palms.

If dogs could be grateful, this puppy was worshipping Shelby. He drank deeply, and I refilled her hands.

The pig nosed her way in.

“Are you thirsty, too?” Shelby laughed. “I bet with all that running you did.”

We gave them the rest of the water and then the treats. The puppy devoured the pig kibble as if it were Kobe beef.

“Two animals and no leashes,” Shelby said, eyeing me.

I sighed. “I’ll carry the pig.”





*



“Hey, remember that time we kissed and then carried a pig and a puppy all the way home? Talk about a memorable summer fling.” Shelby joked behind me.

It was a long, sticky walk back. The pig seemed happy enough to be carried but had to continually reassure herself with glances over my shoulder at the puppy cradled in Shelby’s arms. I had the heavier of the two, but Shelby was holding the one that smelled like cow shit.

We were within a hundred yards of the house when George lumbered up the trail. “Katherine!” He ran to us, and the pig scrambled against my chest.

“Katherine?” I asked. It was an interesting name for the pig.

“After Katherine Johnson, the NASA mathematician,” he said reaching his receiver paws for the pig.

I handed her over.

“You’re a good boyfriend, GT. June’s going to love Katherine,” Shelby predicted with a grin.

“Why are you holding a lump of dirt?” Her brother moved in closer, caught a whiff, and backed off again. “Jesus, are you carrying a load of shit?”

“Oh, this old thing? This is just the puppy your pig saved,” Shelby said.

I slapped George on the shoulder and shook out my arms to get the circulation moving again. “Your pet pig is a hero. She led us right to him.”

He ushered us in through the back, this time securing the door behind us.

Mellow the bunny hopped into the kitchen.

“Now, listen, Katherine. You and Mellow have to be friends. There are no other options. Got it?” he explained.

The pig wiggled, and George set her gently on the tile floor. She tiptoed toward the fluffy bunny. The bunny took a tentative hop closer. Katherine’s nose twitched as she leaned in for a sniff.

“Huh. Guess you’re not scared anymore,” George observed.

“Aren’t pigs highly intelligent?” Shelby asked from the kitchen sink where she was preparing the disgusting puppy for a bath. “Maybe she knew this little guy was in trouble?”

While Mellow hopped off with Katherine on her heels, George flopped down in a kitchen chair next to the totaled table that lay crumpled on the floor. “You’re my fucking heroes.”

“You’ll be June’s hero when she gets home from the office today,” Shelby promised him.

I joined her at the sink and dug around for the dish detergent. “This should be safe for him.” I turned the water on and let it warm up. The puppy scrambled against the stainless steel, but Shelby kept him contained.

“This is for your own good, little man. You smell like a porta potty,” she warned him.

We washed and dried the little guy. And tried to keep him from drinking the filthy bathwater and eating the soap bubbles. He was getting cuter by the minute.

He had patches of brown and black and white with huge velvety ears.

George stopped chasing Katherine around with the big red bow he was trying to affix to her long enough to share some ground chicken and rice with the puppy. His tail wagged while he ate, and the tips of his ears dipped into the bowl.

Shelby interlaced her fingers with mine. “What are we going to do with him? And before you say look for the owner, I’m going to stop you right there. Whoever tied him around the neck with a rope deserves to be run over by a pickup truck and pecked to death by Mona Lisa.”

“Agreed. Let’s get him to the vet, have him checked out. Then we’ll go from there,” I said, watching as the little guy fell asleep in his food.

“We can’t keep him,” she said, staring at the dog with hearts in her eyes. “Can we?”

“Of course not. How would we decide who keeps him at the end of the summer? It would be a custody disaster.”

“Right. Of course,” she agreed. But the hearts were still there.

The pup sneezed in his sleep, and the sound was just about the cutest thing I’d heard in my entire life. “We’ll keep him for now,” I decided. “Until we can find him a good home.”

“Fostering. Okay.” She nodded and squeezed my hand. “Thanks for carrying my brother’s pig all the way back.”

“Sentences you only hear in Bootleg Springs.”

She laughed and released my hand. “GT, we’re going to take Katherine’s puppy to the vet,” she called as she walked into the living room. “What’s all this? Is June getting a doctorate, too?”

I followed her into the room. It was a comfortable space despite its over-the-top tidiness. Bookcases jammed with books flanked both sides of the brick fireplace. In front of them were stacks of boxes and a whiteboard with notes scrawled across it.