"Maybe I should have spelled it with an SH," Kira said, her eyes shifting upward as if in thought.
I shook my head, turning my attention back to the thing in Kira's arms. "What is a Sugie Sug?" I asked. "And what's wrong with its face?" It looked as if the entire bottom half of the dog's face, the nose and jaw, had been mangled in some way.
Kira pulled the thing, what I could now tell was an older puppy, some kind of mutt, into her chest and covered its ear with her other hand. "Shh," she said. "She can hear you, you know." She gave me a contemptuous frown. "And Sugie Sug is a she." She smiled down at the puppy who looked up at her with what looked like barely contained hope. "Aren't you, baby girl? Aren't you, sweet sugar pie? Yes you are, you're a girl, a good girl. Such a good girl. A sweet, good girl." I grimaced at the sound of the high-pitched baby talk. But apparently the puppy didn't mind it one little bit.
The dog, trembling in an obvious attempt to hold back her rapture at Kira's attentions, licked her face with that strangely deformed mouth. Kira laughed and then covered the puppy's ear again. "I rescued her. Her first owner muzzled her when she was barely weaned. And then he didn't take it off as her face grew. When she was found, she was almost dead and had to have the contraption surgically removed." She took her hand off the dog's ear. Charlotte, who was clicking and cooing like a grandma meeting her grandbaby for the first time, scratched the puppy's ears.
"Oh, the poor little dear. You don't worry about a thing, Sugie Sug. You're going to fit in just fine around here." In her obvious excitement, the puppy let out a small squeak and then lowered her head as if expecting dire consequences as a result of the small, escaped noise. She looked at us, her eyes raised dismally, her head still lowered.
"Whoa, whoa, around here?" I asked. "No. The last thing I need is an animal running around getting in my way. I don't have the time for a pet."
Kira frowned, and then thrust the dog at me, forcing me to take it from her. "I rescued Sugie Sug for you. She's yours. Consider her, um, my wedding gift. And a thank you for your kindness this weekend." She grinned. I was momentarily stunned, staring down at the warm weight in my arms, those large, dark eyes trained on me with a mix between fear and hope. I felt a strange stirring in the region of my heart. Oh, Jesus. Kira had gone and gotten me a puppy after the story I'd told her about my father. Irritating little witch. Sweet, compassionate, irritating little witch. I sighed.
It had been a kind thought, and I was glad she wasn't upset about how we'd left off on the patio after our date. Still . . . "Kira, I can't have a dog named Sugie Sug. I don't even know what that means. But it sounds incredibly girly."
"Oh," she put one finger up on her lips, "well, that's what I named her and she seems to be attached to it. Her full name is Sugar Pie Honey Bunches, Sugie for short." She was holding back a barely suppressed smile. This amused the little witch.
I considered the animal again. She was wretchedly ugly. Pitifully unattractive. Damaged. Despite her deformity and her unacceptable name, I couldn’t bring myself to send her away now that she was in my arms, looking at me with such raw hope. I did have a large property. She could run around—I'd probably never even see her. Although at the very least, she'd need to be trained not to eat the grapes, as they could be dangerous to dogs. I set her on the ground. She stood stock still, staring at me. "She's still a puppy, and you just got her today. She can learn a new name." I backed up. "Come here, Scout." She tilted that ugly head, sitting down squarely on her butt.