Bite Me

"Rude," Jacky flips her hair to the side. "Second hottest person, okay?" She shrugs when I laugh. "Just tell her that next time."

"What, no." I cringe at the thought. "Saying 'you're hot' is possibly the worst thing I could do."

"There are worse," She corrects me. "But fine, just say something along the lines of, 'I find you really attractive, would you like to go on a date?' and that should work." She thinks about something. "Although you may want to figure out if she's single first. Because that could be awkward."

My stomach flips. Why hasn't that ever crossed my mind? I should have thought of that. Maybe she is taken. Maybe that is why she didn't stay at the bar that night. Is she even into girls? This is falling apart faster than my previous relationships. It just goes to show that I don't know enough about her yet.

This is just lust. I'm physically attracted to her and maybe it should just stay that way. What if we decide to do something and it turns out to be a bad idea? I've been having fun with this crush. A lot more fun than I've had in the past year. Am I ready to risk that for something that most likely won't work?

"Maybe we should go back to studying," I suggest.

*-*-*

There is a faint bark across the street in a tight alley.

My plan is to ignore it and go on about my night. It's a weekend, I just got off my late shift at work, and I want to go home and sleep. Sleep through the night and hopefully wake up three months from now to when I'm finished with my classes. The midterm went okay. I passed with a B minus, and Jacky with a C.

Now, we're moving on to the next part of the semester to prepare for our big final. I have an exam for one class and a presentation and in class essay for the other. Jacky and I got an older lady to join our group to avoid taking in any weirdos for our presentation group. Now that I think about it, I should get us in a group chat soon to go over our schedules. We should start preparing soon.

The bark gets more insistent and I quicken my steps. Not my business. Not my problem. Stray dogs do things like this all the time. Maybe it's a lost dog. Well, then their owner will eventually find them. Plus, it is no time to be walking around late at night.

The barks turn to yelps and I peek around the corner into the alley to see two medium-sized dogs nipping at a slightly bigger dog on the floor. There is no one else on the streets, the lights are faint but I see the scene well enough. The dog on the floor fights less and less and my heart squeezes.

Oh god, why am I always getting caught up in these awful situations? Out of all the animals that could be fighting in an alley right now, why does it have to be the exact ones I'm absolutely terrified of?

"Hey!" I yell as I grab a construction cone from the sidewalk. "Get out of here!"

The two dogs look back at me, with a crazy look in their eyes and I shrink back. Is this how I die? At the paws of street dogs?

The dog on the floor raises its head up but it plops back down just as quickly, clearly tired. How long have they been going at it?

"Get out of here!" I yell louder and raise the cone over my head. I pretend to come after them and they finally get the hint and run in the opposite direction.

With the cone still in hand, my feet inch closer to the possibly dying animal on the floor. It has dark long fur and a gash on the side of its head. Is it alive? I look down at its body and notice faint movement. It's still breathing.

"Doggie?" I whisper in fear. If it wakes up and I'm this close to it, it will attack. "Psst." I stand on my toes ready to run.

Nothing.

The cone is starting to feel heavier in my hands. No longer worrying about the sleeping dog, I place it on the floor and move a little closer to take a look at the cut. It's not that deep but it's still bleeding. Against my better judgment, I use the tip of my shoe and poke its side.

Still nothing.

Okay, time to do something or let it die.

My heart plummets at the thought of it dying here in an alley that smells of piss and week-old food. But what am I supposed to do? Carry it home? It's a ten-minute walk if I'm alone, carrying a whole dog will probably add another 10 minutes. I'm not nearly as strong as I should be to take on a task like this. It could also have fleas or maybe even rabies. Shit, am I really contemplating this? Should I take it across the street to some grass and then let it die there? It is a street dog, it was bound to happen, right?

I use my pinky to poke its rib, ready to jump at the sound of any movement.

Absolutely nothing.

Oh, man.

Putting my phone in my back pocket and turning my purse around toward my back, I lean down and place both hands under its body. Oh my god. It's huge! Looks are deceiving with this animal. With a lot of wiggling and moving around. I manage to throw it across my arms and pull it close to my body for additional support. I expect it to reek and hold my breath but as I start walking, I can't hold it in anymore. The smell is actually not so bad, just heavy, like what a wet dog would smell like. I think. I wouldn't really know now, would I?

"Please don't wake up." My hands are trembling. "If you do, I will have to drop you and run." The image of me running away from a dog this size almost makes me want to drop it on the spot.

But the dog doesn't move. It stays motionless, barely breathing. Completely oblivious to what is going on.

Instead of walking across the street, to the patch of grass, I continue walking down the sidewalk toward my place. I'll just drop him off at the park near my complex. That will be a much more humane place to go. But what if those other dogs come back to finish what they started? Would it be more humane to get violently bitten to death? Each street light we pass affirms my not-so-brilliant decision. My legs continue walking past the park, past the parked cars, and eventually past my building's front entrance.

Once I'm inside my own place, I drop my bag and rush to the bathroom. Placing the dog on the floor, I turn the bath water on and wait for it to fill. A nice bath for its last day on this earth. Even if it doesn't know what is going on or it can appreciate what I'm doing for it, this dog is going to get one last good night.

*-*-*

I wake up to a continuous sound that I can't quite make out.

My hand reaches out for my phone and then I remember I left it in my jeans from last night. As I stretch my arms over my head, I groan in exhaustion. My whole body is sore. From the tip of my toes to my aching fingers. What time is it? The sun is out, maybe 9 am? I can't be more grateful that I'm off today.

The sound picks up again and I sit up.

Shit! Last night. Oh, shit! That can't be right.

I rush out of bed in my underwear and a white t-shirt. I follow the noise down the hall until I'm in front of the bathroom. Oh, no!

It's scratching against the door. Not barking or doing much else. Between some consecutive scratches, there are some huffs under the door. It's trying to sniff me out! I hold my breath and place a hand over my heart.

After washing away all of the dirt from the dog's fur, and using up all of my shampoo and conditioner, I brought an old blanket to the bathroom and placed it on the floor. I dried the dog with an old towel, that I never expected to use again, and then laid its body over the blanket. Its cut had been cleaned and its dark fur was no longer caked. It wasn't supposed to be scratching against my door this morning! The dog was supposed to die and I was supposed to wrap it up in the blanket, along with the towel, and then google how to get rid of a dog's body. My plans did not include finding a way to manage a live dog.

Shit!

The scratches are getting more incessant and I jump back.

"Doggie?" I say when it finally stops scratching. There is no response. Of course, there is no response. "Doggie, I need you to step away from the door. I'll let you out of this apartment but I need you to give me some space." What the hell am I doing? Does it even speak English? I know Kinsley's dog learned some German from one of the guys she was dating.

The shadow under the bathroom door moves away.

I look around and rush to the kitchen to get the broom. Maybe I can guide it out peacefully. Or I can at least have some form of protection if it decides to go batshit crazy on me for kidnapping it. Ha! Kidnapping. If only that was the case. What exactly is the case?

I shake my head and stop stalling.

My free hand comes out and I slowly open the door. I move back and expect the dog to run out and start attacking at any moment. My grip on the broom tightens, ready for the worst. Nothing happens. I swallow through the tightening in my throat and lean against the wall, to look further into the bathroom. My hair sticks to my forehead as I lean further in. The blood pumping through my veins is causing me to sweat profusely.

The dog is sitting next to the sink, waiting for something.

I grab the broom with two hands and take a step closer. "Okay, buddy. We'll get you out now. No need to bite." My voice quivers.

Its ears perk up and it looks right up at me.

My feet stop working and I stop mid-stride. Its gray eyes focus on my face with eerie calmness and I jump back. Gray eyes on a dog with black fur? My mind immediately jumps to thoughts of Addy. Is this some kind of cruel joke from the universe? A dog that reminds me of her? Am I going insane?

It is odd to see a dog with black fur and light eyes but that's not what is throwing me off. Something about the way the gray eyes are looking up at me sends chills down my arms. That and the fact that this is the second pair of gray eyes I've ever seen in my life. But only one of them counts since she's actually human. The dog looks at the broom in my hand and then at my bare legs and it immediately looks away.

For some stupid reason, I feel embarrassed to be standing here half-naked in front of it. It continues to sit, just waiting, and I lower the broom. It's not behaving as expected, so how am I supposed to behave?

How do I go about doing this?

"Out," I order and point to the hall.

The dog stands on all four and walks out of the bathroom. I shrink back against the wall, hiding behind the broom but it doesn't even bother to look up at me. Okay, so it does know English. And it is a well-behaved dog. Its tail begins to wag as it starts to sniff all around my living room. The nails on its paws tap with each happy little step it takes as it digs its nose into my couch, the rug, and even my shoes.

Weirdo.

"Okay, enough." I finally push away from the wall and walk a little bit closer to it. "Time for you to go, buddy."

It turns its head to the side and whimpers lightly. I never understood the puppy eyes expression and why so many people fawn over it but I kind of get it now. Their gray eyes stare up at me, pleading for something.

"Maybe you should have something to eat first. And some water too. Before you go back out there." I make my way to the kitchen, edging around the corner and putting as much distance between us before going into the fridge. I cut up some hot dogs and pour some water into a bowl. There goes my nice bowl.

I place it on the floor and expect it to come charging at me but it doesn't. It just sits at the foot of the couch, again waiting for me, I guess.

"Okay, come eat." I point to the food on the floor.

I move away as it gets closer and trade places so now it is me watching it eat from the couch. It scarfs down the food and drinks up all the water without making much of a mess. I thought dogs were much less tidy than that. It lays down on the kitchen floor and rests its head on its paws. We silently stare at each other from across the room. Its eyelids begin to droop and then it goes to sleep.

I continue to stare at it even after the sun starts to set.

*-*-*

"That is not a dog!" Jacky whispers in fear.

She's pointing down at the dog still laying on my kitchen floor. It's only moved once to flip over on its back and is now sleeping with all four paws up. I had no one else to call and Jacky had nothing better to do tonight. So here we are, both staring at the massive creature in my apartment, taking up half of the kitchen floor. Now that she is standing next to it, it does seem like a much bigger animal than an average dog. But there are big dogs around. This one could be mixed with two big dogs. Right? That's how it works?

"If it's not a dog then what is it?" I whisper back just as fearful.

"A wolf maybe?" She leans over to take a closer look. "It would explain the size."

"And the eyes." I shrug. A wolf. In my house. What the fuck?

"And it's a girl!" She points down.

"Wait then what is that thing there?" I point to a small bulge.

"It's a belly button, duh." She shakes her head. "Notice the lack of balls?"

"I thought it was neutered or something." I'm suddenly imagining myself leaving it in the alley last night. This poor girl.

"Okay, I'm going to head out before it wakes up and decides to eat us." She grabs her purse and pulls me in for a hug. "If I was you, I would call animal control on this thing. It's way too big to be a stray dog from around here. Who knows what it is carrying." She shivers.

I walk her to the door and wave her off. "Thanks again."

Even after closing the door, the dog doesn't move.

Not a dog.

A wolf?

Shit.

*-*-*

The next morning, I wake up fully expecting my house to be in some form of disarray.

Surely by now, the dog has more energy than the day before and it has probably dug a hole in my couch or even destroyed all of my shoes. Isn't that what they do? What was I really thinking to bring a street animal into my house? A possible wolf nonetheless? Who in their right mind would interfere in a dog fight only to decide to carry one back home? I must have been sleep-deprived or something.

I'm rubbing the sleep from my eyes when I open my bedroom door.

The dog is patiently sitting in front of the bathroom door.

I jump back slightly. Still inherently afraid of its presence but trying to calm myself. It hasn't done anything to earn my distrust. It is actually a well-behaved animal that is apparently waiting for me again.

"Oh, you probably need me to take you out for a walk." I scratch that back of my head.

How do I manage that when I don't have a leash? I'm sure someone walking by would faint at the sight of this animal walking around without any restraints. My bank account reminds me that I can't afford to get a ticket for something like this. What if it bites someone? What if that someone is me? Maybe this could be my chance to let it run free and far away from here. That is one way to get rid of two dogs with one bone.

It starts to scratch the bathroom door, very faintly but enough for me to notice. Did it leave something in there?

I open the door and it goes in and nudges it closed with its nose. I stand back, completely confused. I lean against the door and listen to it walking around in there. There's some jumping, some nails scraping against the floor and against porcelain. And then I hear a stream.

Oh.

OH!

The stream continues and my eyes widen. Okay, so it knows the bathroom is for taking care of business. Sheesh, how the heck does it know so much? Were its previous owners some circus clowns that used it for entertainment? I walk away, to give it some privacy and walk to the kitchen. I fill the water bowl up and cut up some ham for it this time.

In the distance, I hear the toilet flush.

The toilet what?

An unannounced chuckle leaves my lips. This can't be real. I look around waiting for someone with smartphone camera to come out and tell me I've been pranked but it doesn't happen. Instead, it begins to scratch against the bathroom door, from the inside this time.

I walk across and open it slowly, moving way out of the way so it has room to move down the hall.

It goes straight to the water and starts to drink.

I look in the bathroom and don't notice anything amiss. The blanket from two nights ago is still there next to the towel I used but there are no signs of pee or worse anywhere. Not one drop.

Did it really just use the toilet?

*-*-*

Jacky is practically shaking with excitement when I walk into class the following week.

"You really kept it?" She squeals when I finally sit next to her.

I yawn behind my hand and nod in response.

"Wow! A wolf. Under your roof!" She taps her fingernails against my desk. "It probably makes for the perfect guard dog."

I don't have the heart to tell her that the only thing I need to guard against is the animal itself. Yes, I've grown comfortable enough that I don't jump whenever I see it but there is still a long way to go. I don't go near it and it doesn't come near me. When I leave for work, I used to leave it in the bathroom but then I started feeling bad since the space is so small so I started leaving it in the living room. I haven't come home to a mess yet but it's probably only a matter of time. Just when I let my guard down, it'll make me regret it. I just know it.

And then there is the nighttime.

There are nights when it doesn't sleep a wink. I know because it starts walking around in the living room and the noise has been keeping me up recently. What if it is plotting my death? It's probably licking its lips imagining how tasty my heart will be. I know I'm being dramatic but the lack of sleep is doing me no favors. I've also been running low on food and will have to dig into my savings to buy it some things. Food, a leash (even though it never wants to go out), and maybe some toys. A bed at the least.

If someone from my building finds out that I have a dog, they will start charging me monthly for it. I don't have enough money to afford that at the moment. I guess keeping it indoors is the best we can do for now. This is not good. It was only supposed to be for one night. How has it been a full week?

"You okay? Regretting your fur baby already?" Jacky's concerned eyes take me in.

"My what? Ew. Don't call it that." I shake my head. "This is just turning out to be more costly than I expected." I nibble on the fingernail on my thumb.

"Wait, you haven't even given it a name?" She pulls out her phone and shows me a picture I sent her over the weekend. It's the dog sitting patiently on the kitchen floor, just staring at me. "She is too cute not to have a name!"

Giving it a name would make it official. It would mean that I would ultimately have a pet. Something I didn't want and am still not sure I do. It is a big responsibility. I wouldn't be free to come and go as I please. I would have to make sure it had enough to eat and drink and even shower it. Speaking of, I should probably wash it tonight.

"I'm not sure I'm keeping it." I shake my head. "It probably has an owner looking for it too."

Thoughts of putting up flyers come to mind again. I will do that soon.

The professor walks into the room, ending our conversation.

*-*

My hands still shake if I get anywhere near the dog or wolf or whatever it is.

If I could avoid it I do, but I can't avoid this.

Jacky suggested I take it to a vet. Get it checked for a chip or just make sure it's not carrying anything harmful. It is a very good idea. I just don't have the money to do that right now. And looking down at her, watching me patiently, I can't say anything pops out as being physically wrong. Well, except for the scratch it has on its head but I've been good about applying some ointment on it when it's sleeping at night.

The first night I tried it I almost pissed my pants when it rolled over. I thought it would eat me alive without thinking twice about it. Instead, it huffed a great big sigh and went back to sleeping peacefully. If it could sense the Q-tip against its head, it didn't seem bothered by it. Not enough to wake up completely at least.