"For me?" Faith took a full step back. "I
don't want a dog."
"Sure you do." He plucked the puppy from the bed,
then pushed her into Faith's arms. "Look, she likes you."
"Puppies like everybody," Faith protested, as she
twisted her head to try to avoid the pup's cheerful tongue.
"Exactly." With the dimples flickering in his
cheeks, Wade slipped his arms around Faith's waist, sandwiching the puppy
between them. "And everybody likes puppies. She'll depend on you,
entertain you, keep you company, and love you no matter what."
"She'll pee on the rug. She'll chew my shoes."
"Some. She'll need discipline and training and patience. She'll need
you."
They'd known each other most of their lives. Just because
they'd spent most of their time together between the sheets didn't mean she didn't
have clues as to how his mind worked.
"Is this a dog or a life lesson you're giving
me?"
"Both." He leaned
over to kiss Faith's cheek.
Carolina Moon
________________
In the photo: Our Budha
What kind of dog do you live with?
A lovable Lab or a haughty hound?
And most importantly, is he the right fit for your lifestyle?
From designer dogs to humble mutts, your precious pooch says a lot about you...
________________
"Thank you. You have a lovely home."
She had said it automatically, meaningless politeness. But the moment the words were out, Sydney realized they were true. The entire house would probably fit into one wing of her mother's Long Island estate, and the furniture was old rather than antique. Doilies as charming and intricate as those she had seen at Mrs. Wolburg's covered the arms of chairs. The wallpaper was faded, but that only made the tiny rosebuds scattered over it seem more lovely.
The strong sunlight burst through the window and showed every scar, every mend. Just as it showed how lovingly the woodwork and table surfaces had been polished.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement. As she glanced over, she watched a plump ball of gray fur struggling, whimpering from under a chair.
"That is Ivan," Yuri said, clucking to the puppy. "He is only a baby." He sighed a little for his old mutt Sasha who had died peacefully at the age of fifteen six months before. "Alex brings him home from pound."
"Saved you from walking the last mile, right, Ivan?" Mikhail bent down to ruffle fur. Ivan thumped his tail while giving Sydney nervous looks. "He is named for Ivan the Terrible, but he's a coward."
"He's just shy," Sydney corrected, then gave in to need and crouched down. She'd always wanted a pet, but boarding schools didn't permit them. "There, aren't you sweet?" The dog trembled visibly for a moment when she stroked him, then began to lick the toes that peeked out through her sandals.
Mikhail began to think the pup had potential.
"What kind is he?" she asked.
"He is part Russian wolfhound," Yuri declared.
"With plenty of traveling salesmen thrown in."
Luring a Lady
Luring a Lady