“But Kline,” I started to plead, but he wasn’t having it.
He shook his head. “He’s a Great Dane, Georgia. And he’s not even full grown yet. He probably has another fifty pounds to go. There is no way in hell we can bring him back to the apartment.”
Even though I knew he was right, I still wasn’t happy. I knew our co-op only allowed pets under twenty-five pounds, but I couldn’t stop myself from being irrationally angry with Kline for not letting us take Stan.
“We also have a two-week waiting period,” Julie offered, trying to smooth things over. When my eyes jumped to hers, she explained. “To see if anyone claims him. He’s a suspected lost pet too.”
Kline’s eyes were relieved. That made one of us.
“Fine,” I cried, then grabbed Walter’s crate, and stomped off toward the exit.
Kline followed quickly, but I turned to him just as we reached the door and pointed an irrational finger in his face. “You may not want a dog, but you’re gonna be needing a fucking dog house.”
Mic drop. Georgia out.
New York, Sunday, May 7th, Late Morning
We had been home for about a week since the vet debacle, and I’d managed to stop blaming Kline for the reason Stan wasn’t at our apartment, but Walter was still sulking.
Actually, we were both sulking.
For the past six days, if I wasn’t working, Walter and I were lying in bed, watching reruns of Friends together. He only seemed to perk up when the episode where Phoebe sings “Smelly Cat” was on. We had watched that episode, The One With The Baby On The Bus, a good fifteen times.
My husband did his best to cheer me up, but I still couldn’t get over the fact that Walter’s little kitty heart was breaking. It was his first true love, and it was playing out like an animal version of Romeo and Juliet. Well, without the families at war or the poison or the whole guy and girl scenario, but yeah, it was definitely a tragic, star-crossed love story.
When Julie had told us that the second Stan walked into the office, Walter had sidled up to the big dog and started cleaning his fur, I knew, without a doubt, it had been love at first lick.
My poor little buddy.
And now, I was going to have to leave him to mourn by himself.
Wes had asked me to join him on a recruiting trip for the Mavericks, and even though I’d much rather stay home and console my heartbroken cat than go to Phoenix for the next week, I needed to go. I needed to start getting my feet wet and diving headfirst into my job with the Mavericks’ organization.
I tossed my toiletries into my suitcase and zipped it shut. Sitting on the bed beside Walter and stroking my fingers behind his ears, I said, “It’ll be okay, buddy. I promise, it’ll be okay.”
He purred, but his eyes were still sad.
Kline walked into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. “All set?”
I nodded, stood up from the bed, and kissed the top of Walter’s head. “I’ll be back in a week, buddy. Be good for Kline while I’m gone.”
My husband grabbed my suitcase, and I followed his lead into the hallway.
“Promise me you’ll take good care of Walter while I’m gone,” I said as we stepped into the elevator.
“I promise, baby.”
“My kind of good care,” I specified.
“Nothing but the best for the grumpy cat,” he assured me.
“And promise me you’ll take him places. He needs to get out of the apartment. I think it would be good for him while I’m gone.”
He grinned, laughing and groaning softly. “I promise. You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Walter and I will bond like fucking hydrogen while you’re gone.”
I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and looking up into his blue eyes. “What about you? Will my husband be okay, too?”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll be missing you for the next week, but there’s only one thing I need to hear to make it okay.”
I smiled. “I’ll be missing you too.”
New Jersey/New York, Wednesday, May 10th, Late Morning