I AUTOMATICALLY PARKED in the employee lot when I got to Merlotte’s. There was a dog pawing around the Dumpster, and I patted him on the head when I went in. We had to call the pound about once a week to come get some stray or dumped dogs, so many of them pregnant it just made me sick.
Terry was behind the bar.
“Hey,” I said, looking around. “Where’s Jason?”
“He ain’t here,” Terry said. “I haven’t seen him this evening. I told you so on the phone.”
I gaped at him. “But you called me after that and said he had come in.”
“No, I didn’t.”
We stared at each other. Terry was having one of his bad nights, I could tell. His head was writhing around on the inside with the snakes of his army service and his battle with alcohol and drugs. On the outside, you could see he was flushed and sweating despite the air conditioning, and his movements were jerky and clumsy. Poor Terry.
“You really didn’t?” I asked, in as neutral a tone as possible.
“Said so, didn’t I?” His voice was belligerent.
I hoped none of the bar patrons gave Terry trouble tonight.
I backed out with a conciliatory smile.
The dog was still at the back door. He whined when he saw me.
“Are you hungry, fella?” I asked. He came right up to me, without the cringing I’d come to expect from strays. As he moved more into the light, I saw that this dog had been recently abandoned, if his glossy coat was any indicator. He was a collie, at least mostly. I started to step into the kitchen to ask whoever was cooking if they had any scraps for this guy, but then I had a better idea.
“I know bad ol’ Bubba is at the house, but maybe you could come in the house with me,” I said in that baby voice I use with animals when I think nobody’s listening. “Can you pee outside, so we don’t make a mess in the house? Hmmm, boy?”
As if he’d understood me, the collie marked the corner of the Dumpster.
“Good fella! Come for a ride?” I opened my car door, hoping he wouldn’t get the seats too dirty. The dog hesitated. “Come on, sugar, I’ll give you something good to eat when we get to my place, okay?” Bribery was not necessarily a bad thing.
After a couple more looks and a thorough sniffing of my hands, the dog jumped onto the passenger seat and sat looking out the windshield like he’d committed himself to this adventure.
I told him I appreciated it, and I tickled his ears. We set off, and the dog made it clear he was used to riding.
“Now, when we get to the house, buddy,” I told the collie firmly, “we’re gonna make tracks for the front door, okay? There’s an ogre in the woods who’d just love to eat you up.”
The dog gave an excited yip.
“Well, he’s not gonna get a chance,” I soothed him. It sure was nice to have something to talk to. It was even nice he couldn’t talk back, at least for the moment. And I didn’t have to keep my guard up because he wasn’t human. Relaxing. “We’re gonna hurry.”
“Woof,” agreed my companion.
“I got to call you something,” I said. “How about. . . Buffy?”
The dog growled.
“Okay. Rover?”
Whine.
“Don’t like that either. Hmmm.” We turned into my driveway.
“Maybe you already have a name?” I asked. “Let me check your neck.” After I turned off the engine, I ran my fingers through the thick hair. Not even a flea collar. “Someone’s been taking bad care of you, sweetie,” I said. “But not anymore. I’ll be a good mama.” With that last inanity, I got my house key ready and opened my door. In a flash, the dog pushed past me and stood in the yard, looking around him alertly. He sniffed the air, and a growl rose in his throat.
“It’s just the good vampire, sugar, the one that’s guarding the house. You come on inside.” With some constant coaxing, I got the dog to come into the house. I locked the door behind us instantly.
The dog padded all around the living room, sniffing and peering. After watching him for a minute to be sure he wasn’t going to chew on anything or lift his leg, I went to the kitchen to find something for him to eat. I filled a big bowl with water. I got another plastic bowl Gran had kept lettuce in, and I put the remains of Tina’s cat food and some leftover taco meat in it. I figured if you’d been starving, that would be acceptable. The dog finally worked his back to the kitchen and headed for the bowls. He sniffed at the food and raised his head to give me a long look.