What was I supposed to do here?
I couldn't just leave the dog there, tied to a post, losing his ever-loving mind. The owners of the coffeeshop would likely call animal control or something. Then, what? He would end up at the pound? Ugly and untrainable as he was, he wasn't going to get adopted. And our local shelter was open-admission. They put the dogs down when they had been around too long.
I wasn't going to let some dog be killed because his owner beat someone and went to jail.
So, ah, I guess I just got a dog?
I liked dogs.
In fact, I loved dogs.
Growing up, I had always had one.
They always slept at my feet, followed me around.
Dogs, as far as I was concerned, were the only things on the planet that would love you more than they loved themselves.
That was, well, something any sane person would want.
The problem being, I lived in an apartment that didn't allow pets. So I had just sacrificed that lifelong love because the rent was fair, the place was huge, and I worked quite a bit.
That being said, I did own my business. If I could maybe try to train the crazy thing, I could take him to work with me so he wasn't alone.
The no-dog rule, well, I would find a way around that.
"Coop," I said, making the dog's head twist, looking up at me with curiosity. "Want a cookie?" I asked, reaching to the table where his owner had put his coffee and the bag down. I reached in, producing the thing that smelled heavily of peanut butter.
And, I kid you freaking not, the dog sat without being told to.
"Good boy!" I cheered, giving him the whole damn cookie as I reached down to ruffle his hair that stuck up all over his head in patches. "Good, good boy. I'm sorry about your owner," I said as he ate his cookie. "I know I'm not him. But I am kinda rescuing you right now too. You can learn to love me, right?" I asked as he finished the cookie, then planted his feet on my bent knees, and gave me a huge, peanut butter kiss.
So, yeah, I had a dog.--"Um, 1A," the super called as I stepped up the walk from the main lot toward the building.
The super was somewhere in his fifties, thin to the point of gaunt, with stringy brown hair, a godawful porn stash, and these leering black eyes that made you feel slimy whenever his gaze slid in your direction.
He was also a dick who never learned tenants names, no matter how long you lived there, and called you by your apartment number instead.
"Yeah, Randy?" I asked innocently as I led my illegal dog up the path, holding half a dozen bags from the pet store in the other, full of wet and dry food samples so I could figure out what he liked, toys, and bowls. The bed was in the trunk. I'd have to make a dreaded second trip for it.
"That's a dog."
"Really?" I asked, brows drawn low. "I thought he was just a supremely ugly child. Huh."
"Dogs are against the rules, 1A."
He said this while eye-fucking me and scratching his balls. Yeah, he was a real peach, let me tell you.
"Hey, you know what?" I asked, ducking my head to the side. "I'm pretty sure leering in the window while my sister takes a bath isn't just against the rules but the law."
That, well, it made his whole body stiffen.
See, my sister was a bit of an - ah - exhibitionist. She didn't mind having a Peeping Tom. In fact, the crazy chick would put on a show when she knew she was being watched.
I know, so what, she had said when I told her about seeing Randy 'walking by' the windows to 'do his rounds' whenever she was bathing. They're just tits. I flashed them at that holier-than-thou dude who told me my tattoos were satanic and that I was going to hell last week. He didn't seem to grasp the concept that all my favorite people will be down in hell. Fornicating and sodomizing each other while listening to death metal and drinking vodka straight from the bottle. Sounds like a killer party to me.
When I had tried to press it, she had shrugged. Autumn, I'd close the curtains if it bothered me.
And since he seemed only to spy on her, I never felt the need to report him before.
But I wasn't above using it as leverage.
"I never..."
"I have pictures," I added. And I did. Just in case I ever needed them.
His face fell at that.
"If I let you have a dog, then everyone else will want to have one."
"That sounds a whole lot like your problem," I said with a shrug. "Sounds better than being charged with a misdemeanor though, doesn't it?" I asked, turning, not even bothering to hide my smile as I made my way to the door.