ONE
Hendrix
There area few things in life I love more than my friends and family, and those are as follows.
My golden retriever, Jolene.
My job as a personal assistant to an amazing friend.
My love for all things nature, walking, hiking, and watching the sunset.
My record collection, which is currently taking over my living room.
My fierce independence, thanks to the men in my family who drilled it into my head at a young age that you shouldwanta man or significant other, notneedhim. It’s not that the men cut and run either; they didn’t. They’re there for the long haul once they meet their match.
Every day for the past three days, my walk with Jolene has been interrupted by a man and his dog owner, who clearly has no idea what he’s doing with his chocolate lab. My girl, who is still a puppy at the age of fourteen months, needs her walk. The longer the better, especially on days when I’m out of town with Journey. Even a dog sitter who stays overnight and gives Jolene a walk is not a match for a three-mile hike. I don’t blame the dog; I blame the owner.
Earlier this week, Cooper tried to pee all over Jolene, and since I got between them to try and stop the chocolate lab before he saturated Jolene with the offending stench, we both didn’t come out unscathed. I love my girl, but bath times are not easy for the big girl with all her fur. Though, if I got off my ass and bought my own house with a pool, she’d be in the water non-stop. My parents even got Jolene a float she can’t pop with her nails at their house. She’ll swim and then get on the float and lounge around like she’s the queen.
I’m not saying Jolene is the perfect dog; she’s not. A puppy herself, that loves to chew on my shoes if I leave them out. Panties are fair game, too—clean, dirty, it doesn’t matter; she destroys them. What she doesn’t do is lift her leg to pee on another dog or human.
“Jolene, let’s turn around this time and go to the other stop,” I tell my dog as we’re rounding the bend where we usually sit and take a break, forgetting that my AirPods are in my ears and my sixties and seventies ballads playlist is blastingPiece ofMy Heartby Janis Joplin.How do I know this? Well, that would be because the owner of said chocolate lab, whose name is Cooper.
There is nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing better to start or finish your day than with a scenic hike with your dog. They may say a dog is a man’s best friend, but that couldn’t be further than the truth when it comes to my relationship with my girl. The two-mile hike helps both of us—Jolene with her energy and me with staying in shape enough to eat my weight in hot wings and French fries every Friday night at the parents’ house, along with a beer. And if just so happens to be fall, it’ll be the family favorite: pumpkin beer.
“There’s more than enough room here,” the man mouths. Ugh. I take one AirPod out to respond. He is a menace, hot in every way possible but a man I am not touching with a ten-foot pole. He couldn’t even tame his dog from peeing all over the place, marking its territory, and there is a cure to that disease besides allowing him to act like an alpha male. You know, getting him the snip snip, saying goodbye to his balls and testicles.
“That’s okay.” I turn around. Jolene whines for a moment until she hears the zipper in my belt bag. I know the way to my girl’s heart, that being the fresh carrots and blueberries she knows and loves, which I carry along with the water and protein bar I make myself choke down if we’re here in the morning. That’s not the case right now. It’s evening. The sun is slowly setting. The sky is casting orange, purple, and blue hues. It’s absolutely breathtaking. I’d love nothing more than to stop and watch as it dips further in the skyline, but that’s not in the cards, at least not today.
“Wait.” I pop my AirPods back in my ear, shaking my head no, trying to get the hell out of Dodge, one hand holding the carrot out to Jolene while the other grips her leash, which matches in color to her halter that’s wrapped around her furry body. They both look vintage with the floral and mushroom pattern fabric, beige background, mustard yellow, muted pinks, and lush dark green tying it all together.
My palm is open for Jolene to eat her snack. She’s still working on her manners herself, so I hold my palm flat as if I’m feeding a horse. Jolene and I are in our own world when a shot of brown comes darting at us. I brace for impact, already knowing Cooper is going to wipe my ass out; it’s inevitable.
“Cooper, Cooper, stop!” The voice is muffled, and I don’t bother doing anything except let go of Jolene’s leash because I already know this is a catastrophe waiting to happen and I’m going to be the one who comes out to be the loser.
“Jolene, stay with mommy,” I try to keep my voice down. Cooper’s owner is practically screaming the canyon down. Jolene listens, thankfully, attempting to tuck into my side, which is hard because she’s a massive fluffball. “Cooper, stop,” I command in a firm voice. I watch as Cooper attempts to mount my girl, my girl who just went through her second cycle of heat and is finally done so we can finally get her spayed. I swear to God, if Cooper knocks her up and I’m bound to deal with his owner until puppies come out, I’m going to kick him in the balls.
“No, you don’t.” Fortunately, he grabs ahold of Cooper before I bite the dust, big bulging muscles wrapping around his lab’s middle, picking him up and pulling him off Jolene. I bend down and pick up the leash.
“Jesus,” I mutter, pulling out both AirPods because I’m sure he’s going to want to talk when all I want to do is neuter the owner myself. How hard is it to tighten the collar or get a halter he won’t slip through.
“Sorry about that. I’m Madden, and this, well, you know, is Cooper.” His hand is out, ready for me to place mine in, and I am cussing every manner that was born and bred inside of me.
“Hendrix.” I don’t say another word. Instead, I drop his hand after he shakes like it’s a hot potato searing my hand. Hotness overload be damned. This man is a pain in my ass, and even if he does have manners, his dog could use them a hell of a lot more. “I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, but twice this week, our hike has ended in a catastrophe, so yeah. Later, Madden, hope to not see you again.” I look at Jolene, who’s sitting ass to the ground so Sir Humps-and-Pees-a-Lot can’t touch her again. I don’t wait to hear what else he has to say. Instead, Jolene and I are darting off, running down the trail, my girl happy to get away from Cooper and his owner as much as I am. Fucking men, I swear.
TWO
Madden
“Yo, you in here?”I ask as I walk through my brother’s place. Forest called earlier today telling me my nieces were missing their uncle and Cooper. Truth be told, it was more Coop they wanted to see than me. Why I was saddled with a chocolate lab when Forest has a wife, two girls, a house that’s more of a home than mine.
“Yep, the girls are out back in the pool. You staying for dinner?” Forest asks as I walk towards the kitchen, where he’s making snow cones for what I’m assuming are Cammy and Piper.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’re cooking, I’ll stay.” Forest’s wife is amazing at many things, like dealing with my shit-for-brains brother—not that he’s not bad; I just remember when he was an annoying little shit—and raising amazing girls. Thankfully, her gene pool dominated them. Cooking, though, that’s where it ends.
“I hope you aren’t expecting steak. The girls requested hot dogs.” Forest looks disgusted. He’ll make them and eat them for his girls. “I have brats, too. Love my girls, but hot dogs are a snack, not a meal.”
“What do you need help with? I’ll let Coop out with the girls and help you get stuff ready.” The only time my dog isn’t being a dick is when he’s around the girls and playing. Maybe the next time before we hit the trails, I’ll let him swim in my pool at home for an hour or two, so he won’t try to trample, piss on, or hump someone, human or dog.