Lingus Page 66
"What the hell is that smell?"
I pointed at the puppy's crotch. "He farted!"
Tristan made a face and started reading the information listed on the outside of his crate. "He's eight months, a mastiff-great dane mix, and it says he weighs... holy shit, he weighs a hundred and forty pounds, Kat."
The oversized puppy rolled over onto his tummy with one ear cocked back and the other flopped over his face. He was looking at me with big brown eyes and a slowly wagging tail. "This one," I said softly to Tristan but kept my eyes on the big boy sitting up across from me.
"This one? You're sure? I was thinking more about a small one. You know, maybe like a terrier or a yorkie."
I had to snort at the idiot behind me. "You want me to buy you a carrying bag for your yorkie, Miss?"
The dog started licking the fence when I put my hand against it. "Whatever," Tristan laughed before dropping to balance on the balls of his feet next to me. The giant puppy looked at him and wagged his tail even more. "Fine, get him if you want, but if my mom doesn't want to watch him for me then you're stuck on babysitting duty."
Nicole's words from a few days before reminded me that he was leaving without telling me. "Oh yeah... Nikki told me you're leaving next weekend for work?"
"Just a weekend," he replied in a low voice. He was up on his feet again, holding a hand out to help me up. "Let's go start the paperwork to take him home," he said, effectively cutting off any talk about him leaving to do his porn stuff. The puppy started crying when we walked away so I pushed Tristan, taking a split second to enjoy the press of my fingers against his back like a deprived hussy, to hustle him out of the room faster.
Over an hour and one hundred and twenty-five dollars later, I was getting dragged through the parking lot while holding Tristan's son's leash. He was big and cl, but Tristan was walking fast and the puppy was trailing right behind him. You could tell he was enamored with his new owner, like he realized and appreciated the gift Tristan had given him. When we got to the car he muttered an "Oh fuck," when he looked at the leather covering his backseat and shrugged. "Oh well."
"I think you should try to let him pee before we take him anywhere," I warned him.
"We're just going down the street," he protested, waving the unnamed puppy in. While we waited for the adoption paperwork, I helped him make a list of the things he'd need to go buy his son before going home.
The giant baby just stood there looking at Tristan like he was an idiot for a good five minutes. After five more minutes of careful weight distribution, Tristan finally hauled him into his arms and shoved him into the backseat as gently as possible. As soon as we were both inside, the dog's large, square head popped into the space between the two seats with his long, pink tongue dangling.
"We need to come up with a name for him," he said, putting the car into drive.
"Nuh uh, you need to come up with a name for him. I'll just approve it," I told him, rubbing the big boy's head.
Since the radio wasn't on, the short blow of air that sounded like a whisper filled the car. A second later, I was pulling my shirt up to block the godforsaken smell of garbage coming from the backseat.
"Oh my fuck! You had to get the farting one, didn't you?" Tristan half laughed and half groaned, throwing an arm over his face.
The dog pulled away from me to hop up completely onto the backseat before I saw him start to squat while the top of his back grazed the ceiling of the car.
"Pull over! He's peeing on your seat!"
Chapter 28
"T-Rex?"