How to Become a Dog Lover

"God you are so annoying," Claire spat at the little dog, roughly pushing her away with her foot.  "Stay away from me.  You're gross."  The dachshund's dappled ears drooped.  She slunk back to the living room and curled up in her bed, sighing dejectedly.  But her blue eyes remained locked on the woman, ready for any opening that would mean forgiveness and a chance to cuddle.

Claire turned around in her office chair, overly aware of the gaze and doing her best to ignore it.  Unsuccessfully.  The cursor on her laptop blinked at the end of her search phrase, "divorce lawyers in Nevada."  The laptop screen dimmed after several minutes of disuse, the cursor blinking in time to the strong pulse in Claire's temple.  The rage and unfairness grew until it exploded out of Claire like a rocket launching straight for the only available target. "Why are you staring at me YOU WORTHLESS RUNT STOP STARING AT ME OR I WILL FUCKING END YOU!  YOU HAVE FOOD AND WATER AND A BED AND THAT'S MORE THAN YOU DESERVE!" she screamed as she lunged out of her chair and towards the dog's bed.  The dachshund rolled submissively onto her back, eyes wide in fear and confusion.

Claire stopped.  She held her head in her hands and sank to her knees on the worn carpet.  Her long brown hair trailed over one shoulder.

After several deep breaths, she lowered her hands and confessed shakily, "It's not you, stupid dog.  You're just here, and he's not."

Wrinkling her nose, she continued, "You didn't choose him as your owner, so it's not even your fault.  I chose him, though.  Talk about a mistake!  I fell for it, hook, line and sinker.  I'm still on the hook, making fish faces, see?"

She blinked, realizing she was talking to and making faces at a dog.  She blinked again, realizing that it seemed to help.  The dog sensed the change in her mood and her tail thumped against the blanket.  Once. Twice.  She rolled onto her tummy and began to soldier crawl out of her bed towards the young woman.

Claire didn't notice.  She kept talking. "Typical, he left me with all the bills, empty bank accounts, and now I have to worry about what to do with his stupid dog," she sighed heavily.  "I'll take you to the pound tomorrow.  Isn't that what people do with unwanted dogs?" she asked rhetorically, shoulders lifted.  "They'll find you a new home.  I don't even like do-" a tentative lick on her hand stopped her monologue.  Claire's hand patted the dog's head without her conscious effort.

Taken aback, she cleared her throat and tried again, "I don't even like dogs!"  But her hand tentatively moved down to stroke the silky soft ears.  "I only ever tolerated you for his sake."  The little dog joyfully snuggled closer, climbing into her lap as she knelt on the floor.  The other hand stroked down the dappled back.  "But I guess he left you too."  The dog rolled onto her back, exposing her tummy, as the hands continued to stroke her.  

"Tomorrow," Claire repeated, but without conviction.