Rachel, my new human, pulled into the driveway. I jumped on the couch and smooshed my wet nose against the front window. The wiggles took hold of my backside and tail, as they tended to do every time she came home. I’d fallen crazy in love and was not ashamed to admit it. Another car pulled in behind her. Party time. Rachel’s girlfriends were amazing, always planting kisses and belly rubs on me. I do have a way with the ladies. The other car’s door opened—but a man got out. Rachel had never brought home a man.
My hackles spiked.
She pulled a pizza box out of her car.
Hallelujah. If I had to put up with this male human, pizza would make it bearable. A dollop of drool fell from my jowl onto the windowsill. She didn’t care about that stuff, but I licked it up anyways. I tried to do right by her. She rescued me from the Lafayette Parish animal shelter and moved me up to Boston. Said she needed companionship and protection. As God is my witness, I would honor my commitment to her. The woman saved my life, for Pete’s sake.
Although I was living large up in Yankee territory, sometimes I missed the bayou. I had acquired some extremely helpful life skills down there. But my old man was a good-for-nothing crotchety recluse who had given up on happiness and housecleaning. He kept me chained on the front porch most days and wacked me with his cane every time he limped by. Well, I showed him.
Rachel was nothing like the old man. She radiated joy and kindness. And she gave the best dang belly rubs in town. I knew that for a fact because we compare notes down at the dog park. Yup, I was a lucky feller. Set for life. And you can be damn sure I wasn’t going to let nothing or no one get in the way of that.
Rachel and the man stood yapping in the driveway.
“Woof, woof.” That pizza’s not going to eat itself. And if I wanted any of it, I would have to be nice. Maybe he was okay. Rachel’s female friends were good folk. They’d scratch my neck and tell me, “Your ears are so soft. What a handsome boy.” All I needed to do was flash my big brown eyes at them and they dropped food right into my mouth. Gotta love the ladies.
Except for that one snooty woman in the book club. She didn’t want me near her. Wasn’t that she was scared of me. I can workaround that. The woman said, out loud mind you, that dogs were filthy creatures. Just plain rude, that one. Rachel politely informed her that I was bathed and manicured regularly, probably more than that biddy. Tee hee hee. I done showed her too, just like the old man.
Peoples who crossed me were asking for bad juju.
My tummy grumbled. Back to the important issue at hand—pizza. I shot Rachel a few more barks and rolled in a howl for dramatic effect.
She turned and blew me a kiss. My human was as beautiful on the outside, as funny looking as two-leggeds were, as she was on the inside.
Finally, they walked up the steps. Rachel entered first and reached down to rub my neck. “How’s my Boudy Boo?”
Dig in with those nails, woman. Ah, there you go.
“I brought a friend home from work.” She set the pizza on the table and waved the new dude inside. “Come on, Justin. He’s friendly.” She winked at me.
For her sake, I minded my manners.
He leaned over and kept his hands in his pockets. “Hello there.”
No petting? How about a rub or a scratch, brah? A sniff of your hand? But no need for that. I could smell him from ten feet away and recognized his scent. Rachel had brought it home with her last week. The overabundance of musky cologne and macho soaps launched a full-on assault to my olfactory receptors. I had no choice but to let a sneeze fly. It sprayed like buckshot on his fancy suit. Oops.
He flinched and wiped my snot from his leg. Instead of yelling, he smiled. But humans sometimes smiled when they were mad. Go figure.
“What kind of dog is your handsome boy?”
Handsome? Well, thanks, man. Maybe I had read him wrong. I rubbed up against his leg.
But when Rachel went into the kitchen for dishes, he shoved me away with his knee and sneered.
So that’s the way you want to play it? Bring it on, Justin.
“Boudreaux is a Bluetick Coonhound, as best I can tell. I adopted him a few months ago when I visited my parents in Louisiana. A gator ate his old owner.”
“An alligator? Yikes.” Musty Justy cringed. He took off his jacket and slung it over the couch. “I didn’t know you were southern. You don’t have an accent.” He came up behind her and dared to put his hand on the small of her back.
I stayed close.
She smiled. “I was born in Indiana, but raised from a baby in the south. My parents had no accent, so I guess I took after them. But I can play Scarlett O’Hara if ya’ll want.”
He threw up his hands and raked them through his shiny Rhett Butler black hair. “Please. Don’t talk like a dumb blonde.”
You’re the dummy, Justin. Scarlett had dark hair and twice the brains as you.
Rachel set plates and wine glasses on the table.
He winked at her. “But the southern thing is kind of hot.” After loosening his tie, he hung it on the back of the dining chair.
Kiss that tie goodbye, mister.
She flung her spicy auburn hair back, exposing her neck. She reminded me of that sassy Irish setter who lived around the corner. This guy wasn’t good enough for her. But more importantly, what about that pizza?
She poured wine and held up her glass. “To Friday.”
He clinked her glass. “To us.” He made a kissing noise to her, while he simultaneously kicked me under the table.
“Grrr.” Totally unacceptable.
“Boudreaux, mind your manners.” She snapped her fingers.
I nuzzled her side. Didn’t she realize I was watching out for her?
“I’m sorry, Justin. He’s not usually like this.”
Justin cleared his throat. “It’s my fault. I accidently tapped him with my shoe.”
She rubbed my shoulder. “Calm down, Boudy. He didn’t mean any harm.”
That was no tap. I’d almost lost my appetite.
She leaned over. “Some pizza crust will cheer you up.”
Well, almost. Gulp.
***
Rachel shut me out of the bedroom. Not that I wanted to witness what went on behind that door. Yuk. I put the alone time to good use.
First, a sock. What kind of idiot leaves a smelly sock out in easy reach of a dog? His shoes sat on the floor in front of the couch, the socks sloppily stuffed inside. Did he think they were hidden? Fool. I carried one of the malodorous foot coverings to my hidey-hole behind the washing machine.
Next, the fancy tie. I snatched it off the dining room chair, jumped through the doggie door, and gave it a good drag through the dirt before putting it in my secret stash. That completed my work for the night.
A half piece of pizza sat drying up on the table and called my name. Mm. Just the right amount of chewy and crispy. Yankee folk knew how to make a pie.
The lovebirds finally came out of the bedroom.
“I need to go, got an early tee time,” Justin said. “And let’s keep this on the down-low. Not a good idea to mix work with pleasure.”
What a jerk. I stood sentry by my Rachel.
“Of course.” She wrapped her robe tighter around her waist.
He picked up his shoe and looked around the couch and under the coffee table. “I’m missing a sock.”
Gotcha.
“I should’ve warned you. Boudreaux likes to steal things.” She sipped her wine. “Hope they weren’t expensive.”
Out of her view, Justin jerkface shot me a look that reminded me of my old human.
I let out a long growl. A warning. Don’t mess with me or…
“Boudreaux Bodacious Bodine—stop.”
She only used my full name when she meant business.
“What’s gotten into you?” She turned to him. “I’m so sorry.”
“No worries.” Justin slipped on his shoes, struggling a bit with the barefooted one. “I’ve got a busy weekend. See you Monday.”
She walked him to the door. “You’ll see us both. It’s the company’s first Bring Your Dog to Work Day.”
He pecked her on the lips. “Can’t wait.”
I do declare there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Grr.
***
It was like my first day at doggie daycare. I peed six times that morning and I couldn’t sit still. My mind raced with thoughts, good, bad, and indifferent, about going to the office. What was an office anyway? Rachel said I’d get to meet other dogs and had to be on my best behavior. So maybe it was like a dog park or daycare? I was down with that.
We walked inside the building and a sweet grandma-looking lady greeted me with a cookie. “Here you go, sweet boy.”
Beef and peanut butter flavor all in one. Deeeelicious. I thanked her with a kiss.
She rubbed me all over as if she were giving me a bath.
Take it easy, lady. We just met.
Grandma rub-a-dub smiled at Rachel. “My George, may he rest in peace, had a Blue. Best hunting dog ever. To me, he was a lap warmer.”
She didn’t have a dog with her. I let the lonely woman pet me as long as she wanted.
We then journeyed through a maze of walls and desks. The setup reminded me a little of the shelter. Except these cages had carpet and no gates on the front. And it was way quieter. The other dogs were mostly friendly, except for that fussy dachshund. We rounded the corner to the next row of cages, or cubes, as Rachel called them.
Mitch from daycare popped out of a cube. He was a Golden Retriever, big guy, like me. “Dude, I didn’t know your mom worked here.”
“Ditto. Until today, I didn’t know what or where work was.” I romped around a bit, pawing at him. “Ready to rumble?”
Rachel nudged me along. “You’ll get time to play with your buddy later.” She turned to Mitch’s mom. “Carrie, you should come over tomorrow for a girls’ night. Bring Mitch.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. “I’ll bring sushi.”
I’d rather have hamburgers, but okay.
Most of the morning I lay on the floor next to Rachel’s desk. Weren’t too bad. She’d brought me a Kong with treats inside. When I finished that, she pulled a pig’s ear from her big purse. When I finished that off, she pulled out a deer antler. That purse was like a magician’s hat.
Her phone buzzed a lot. More than it did at home. One buzz caused her to gasp and flip the phone over right quick. But not quick enough. The screen showed a picture of Justin with his privates hanging out. Humans did weird things.
Speak of the devil. Justin snuck up behind her and dropped a folder on the desk. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You get my text?”
Her face turned red. “Yes. You’re crazy.”
He winked. “Crazy in love.” And then strutted away like a cocky rooster.
Her mouth hung open. “Love?” She turned to me and smiled. “Maybe I had him pegged wrong.”
Nope, he’s a jerk.
When she left for a meeting down the hall, I headed out to find Mitch. His scent was easy to follow, as the guy liked to swim in ponds and roll in wet grass. The humans were on their phones or computers, so no one paid me any mind. Rachel would come looking for me soon. I had to hurry.
I stopped short at Mitch’s cube. Carrie sat at her desk. And standing next to her—Justin. He whispered in her ear, just like he had done to Rachel.
If I had opposable thumbs, I’d take a video with a phone to show her.
Mitch slept nearby on the floor.
My nose couldn’t take another dose of Justin’s drug store cologne. A sneeze gave away my presence.
Mitch startled and barked.
Justin jumped and scurried to the other side of Carrie’s chair.
What a wimp.
“You’re not a dog person are you?” Carried laughed. “These dogs wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I have killed fleas and eaten them.
“Come with me, you two.” She took us outside and Rachel joined us. They sat at a picnic table drinking coffee, while Mitch and I walked the circle of the small courtyard.
He deserved the straight-up truth. “Dude, Justin is two-timing both our moms,” I said.
Mitch shook his head. “I knew that guy was trouble. Especially when he kept sending pictures of his junk on her phone.” He threw up a little. “Humans are messed up.”
“Second that.” I peed on a patch of grass. “We need to teach him a lesson.” I leaned in. “Here’s my plan.”
***
With a plan in place, it was time for fun. We romped, chased, and wrestled before going back to the table. We sat beside our respective moms in the shade. They sipped coffee and yacked about a presentation deadline coming up. They planned to work on the slides during their girls’ night. Didn’t seem like much fun in my opinion. If humans took more walks and naps, rather than work, they’d be way happier.
Rachel grabbed for her phone. “OMG. I started dating a guy and he keeps sexting me.”
Carrie’s eyes shot open wide. “No way, me too. It’s getting annoying.” She reached down to pet Mitch. Her phone buzzed. “Again, his balls.” She laughed. “Dude, your balls are not that special.”
They both laughed.
I didn’t laugh. I didn’t have balls anymore. Sigh.
“On the count of three, show me your guy’s picture. We’ll decide who is more photogenic,” Rachel said.
Mitch and I looked at each other. Uh, oh.
Rachel threw back the last of her coffee. “One…two…three.”
They flashed their phone screens at each other.
Silence.
Heads cocked.
Eyes locked.
If they had hackles, they’d be up.
Mitch and I inched back in case there was a scuffle.
How dare Justin come between these amazing ladies.
Rachel spoke first. “That was unexpected.”
“Quite.” Carrie swallowed hard.
Another two minutes of silence.
Rachel leaned forward. “Girlfriend, how we gonna get back at this weasel?”
Yes, ma’am, there ya go. Back in the bayou, there’s no letting bygones be bygones.
Carrie smiled and her shoulders fell. “I love you, my friend.”
***
“Did you eat all your food before you came over?” I asked Mitch when he arrived at my house. It was time to put our plan into action.
Mitch headed straight through the dog door to the backyard.
“Hold on, man. I need you to drop that load in a specific spot.”
He walked hunched over, trying to hold it in. “What? Have you been drinking toilet water again?”
“No. It’s part of the plan.” I scratched in the preferred location, next to the giant hole I’d dug. “Go here.”
Mitch did his business. And boy, did he have a lot of business.
“Whew. That’s some stinky—”
“Oh, and yours doesn’t stink?” He ran off through the bushes. “Bet ya can’t catch me.”
I didn’t take the bait. “Come on, Mitch. We have work to do.”
He followed me back inside. “Tell me again why there’s an old tie and a sock in that hole.”
I shook my head. “Like I explained before. We need Justin’s personal belongings, things that have his energy in them. The more the better. That’s how the voodoo works.”
Mitch nodded. “Right. I remember now. The stuff I collected is in Carrie’s purse. Watch the master work.”
Rachel and Carrie worked at the dining table with their computers and glasses of wine. They seemed to be having a lot of fun for doing work stuff. It was a good thing they were preoccupied.
Mitch slunk into the room and slid under the table like a panther. He stuck his nose into Carrie’s giant bag and rooted around. Keys jingled.
Crap.
Carrie stopped typing.
Abort. Abort.
He didn’t pull his snout out quick enough.
“Mitch.” She grabbed her purse from the floor and set it up on the table. “You know better than that.”
I waved him into the kitchen to regroup. “We go to plan B. You stay inside for now. When the doorbell rings and the women go outside, grab the loot and run like hell to the backyard.”
“Let’s do this,” Mitch said. We bumped paws.
I ran through the doggie door to the backyard. Rachel didn’t know I knew how to open the gate. But she was about to find out. Using my nose, I nudged the metal lever up and the wooden door swung open. I ran to the front door and jumped up to slam the doorbell button several times.
Rachel opened the door. “Boudreaux. How did you get out here?”
“Bark, bark, bark, bark.”
“Come inside.” She slapped her thighs.
I stood still.
“What has gotten into you?” She reached for me.
Although I hated to do it, I jerked away from her and ran around the front yard acting like a crazy dog.
Carrie came out too, which was key to our plan. “Mitch? Are you out here too?”
I needed to keep them outside long enough for Mitch to get into that purse. In my younger days I could run through the woods for hours. Running laps around the yard was giving my heart a run for its money. Perhaps too much pizza? Never.
Mitch finally trotted around the corner from the backyard. He gave me a nod. “The goods are in the hole.”
“Great work, partner.”
Rachel raised her voice, “Damnit, Boudreaux.” She stomped back into the house.
It upset me to upset her. But it was for the greater good.
She returned with a box of treats.
Good thing Mitch had finished. Treats were hard to resist. We followed them inside and sought repentance through sloppy wet kisses.
They went back to work, as did we.
The additional items Mitch dropped in the hole included a pen, a comb, and a dried up wad of chewing gum. “Nice.” I backed up to the hole and dumped a fresh mound of poop.
Mitch had to go again too. “So the belongings represent Justin?”
“Exactly. Help me cover them up.”
We shoved the smelly excrements over the hole.
I stood tall, proud of our accomplishment. “Now, we wait.” If I had fingers, I’d of crossed them. I wasn’t entirely sure my skills were still up to snuff.
“Wait for what?”
“For the magic to happen.” I howled.
***
Rachel brought me to the office again that Friday. Apparently, it was going to be a regular thing. Honestly, I’d rather be at daycare. We weren’t allowed to get too rowdy at work. Believe me, we tried.
Mitch and I played keep away with a tennis ball in the hall.
“Bet ya can’t catch me.” I ran around the corner, ball in my mouth. We ran laps around the row of cubes.
Rachel stepped in our path.
We accidently slammed into her. Sorry, Mom.
“That’s enough for now.” She took the ball. “Settle down.”
I called Mitch over to lay with me. “Sorry, man. She’s been awful twitchy this morning. I counted three cups of coffee so far. That doesn’t include the two she had at home.”
“Carrie’s been a wreck this week too. It’s that stupid presentation they’ve been working on.”
“That’s today?”
“Yup.” Mitch scratched his ear. “What’s a presentation?”
I shrugged. “This one seems awfully important, though.”
Justin stormed in. “Where are my slides? I present in fifteen minutes.”
Rachel kept her calm. “I’m downloading it right now.”
He shook his finger at her. “It better be perfect.”
Shake your finger at me. I dare ya.
Rachel smiled. “It’s better than perfect.” She pulled a small stick from her computer.
He held out his hand.
She waved him off. “You go take a breath. I’ll get this cued up for you.”
The redness faded from his face. “Thanks, Rach. You’re a doll.”
After he was gone, we followed Rachel to a big room full of people. She fiddled with a computer up front and a bunch of words lit up on the big screen.
Justin walked up. “Looks great. I got this.” He practically shoved her out of the way.
Ungrateful douchebag.
Mitch and I sat with Carrie and Rachel. I’d never seen so many people in one place. The crowd settled into their chairs with cups of coffee and phones in hand. They all sat facing Justin. What were we all waiting for? Was he going to do tricks? Were we going to attack him? That would be interesting. Humans confused me.
The lights dimmed a bit and the people quieted down. Justin jabbered about budgets and costs and numbers flashed on the screen.
Boring. I was about to nod off into dreamland, but the entire room simultaneously gasped. Some spilled their coffee. I sat up. On the big screen, a familiar picture of Justin’s testicles lit up the room. Talk about larger than life. It was horrifying, yet I couldn’t look away. Seemed to be the same for others.
Justin panicked and forwarded the pictures, but they were all pictures of his privates.
The entire room laughed, stared, and pointed at the screen.
Rachel and Carrie gave each other a high five.
“What’s happening?” I asked Mitch.
He cocked his head. “Not sure.”
The lady behind us leaned forward. “Serves the slime ball right.”
Rachel laughed. “He’s in such deep shit.”
Justin fumbled over the projector, lost his balance, and fell backward. His head slammed against the tile floor. Blood trickled out like a river.
We all ran over to look.
His eyes went black. The dude was done dead.
I still got it. “Hooooooowwwwwlllll!”
END
BIO: Deb Merino enjoys serial killer documentaries, dogs, gardening, and a fine pinot noir. Her love for animals is reflected in her stories and you would be hard-pressed to find a plot or setting without a dog or cat. But don’t be fooled, most of her stories are not warm and fuzzy. She’s written three stand-alone thriller novels and was recognized as an Ink & Insights Top 10 Master Finalist and a Pacific Northwest Writers’ Association Finalist. Her first short story publication, A Son Needs His Mother, appeared in Issue 5 of Rock and a Hard Place Magazine.
