In response, the runt suddenly made a choking noise. Izzy quickly held her up higher to see what the problem was.
And then her puppy threw up.
Sad, mortified eyes stared into hers. Izzy realized this would be her new life, and it might not be easy. Vomit stuck to her clothes and was splattered on her pants. She looked at Arilyn.
"See what I mean? This one's nervous and when she gets stressed, she throws up!"
Ridiculous tears burned Izzy's eyes. "I don't care. I love her," she burst out.
"I love him, too," Liam said stubbornly. "We're taking them."
Arilyn stared at both of them hard, then slowly began to grin. The grin grew by epic proportions, turning into a belly laugh that exploded in the room. Both puppies stopped wriggling and turned to look at her. "Yes. You two are official goners. You found your canine mates. Let's go get you set up so you can take them home."
Izzy cuddled her puppy and happily followed her friend out.
chapter eight
"NO, HAN SOLO. Don't chew. You'll get sick."
Exhausted, he reached down to pluck Han from chewing the last good leg of his coffee table. He settled the pup on his chest, hoping he'd relax for an hour. A minute. Hell, a second would work at this point.
Instead, he caught the scrunched-up face Han got when he needed to pee.
"No! No, let's go out, let's go out," he sang crazily, scrambling up from the couch to grab the leash. "Hold it, Han, hold it--no!"
Too late. Pee scattered on the carpet and over his hand.
"Yuck! Ugh, that's disgusting." Devine shot into the kitchen, grabbed a mass of paper towels, and swiped the pup's belly. It must've tickled, because Han began to squirm and desperately lick, resembling the cutest miniature Ewok he'd ever seen.
He melted. "Aww, okay, you tried, buddy. Right? Let me clean this up." As he cleaned up the carpet, he decided to pull it up next weekend and go back to wood floors. Sure, they were a bit scratched, but it would work while Han was young, and then he'd put in the investment to strip them and make them new again. After the peeing was done.
Devine scrubbed and wondered what time it was. He'd been in a constant time warp of discipline, getting Han to walk on the leash, and trying to be on top of accidents. When had he eaten? Ah hell, forget it. It was early, but he'd try to get to bed and catch up on sleep. Weren't puppies supposed to sleep for most of the day, or was that some kind of cruel lie to woo owners?
Han didn't like sleep. He liked trouble.
After Devine cleaned up, he took Han for his final walk, then got him ready with his crate. Arilyn had explained it was important for puppies to sleep in a crate at night for structure and to limit damage. Later on, you could bring them to your bed, but if you started off wrong, you were stuck with bad habits forever.
Devine didn't believe in bad habits. Sure, last night was a nightmare with no sleep, but tonight he was sure they'd both pass out cold.
"Come on, Han, time for bed."
The pup anticipated the move and took off, running furiously around the house and leading Devine on a crazy chase. How could the little bugger be so hard to catch? Finally, he dove and got him, scooping him up and settling him inside his crate. He'd made it warm and cozy, with stuffed toys, approved chewy bones, one of his shirts for his scent, and a blanket. Still, Han didn't agree with him on the home design, because he went frantic, crying and scratching at his crate in an effort to get to Devine.
"No, I'm sorry, Han. You sleep in the crate. I sleep in the bedroom."
The hound howl was long and painful. Devine rubbed his head. What should he do? The poor thing looked so miserable. But then he remembered when Stone began taking Pinky to work because she'd totally manipulated him with her crying. No, he was stronger. More disciplined. He'd do what Arilyn and the Raising a Puppy book said.
Exhibiting confidence he didn't feel, he turned out the lights and headed into his bedroom. Usually his oasis, he'd decorated it with forest greens and earth colors. His furniture was a gorgeous dark wood, and the bed had a leather-padded headboard. The decorations were sparse, but each had meaning. The framed picture of his family at his brother's wedding. The antique tapestry chair he'd found at a garage sale and restored on his own as a side project. The painting of Tuscany's rolling hills drenched in light, where he'd always wanted to go on his honeymoon. His framed diplomas from college and the police academy. A safe haven to sleep, with no outside stress.
He pulled on an old T-shirt and sweat shorts and climbed into bed.
Then listened to an hour of nonstop howling and crying.
Devine tried with every iota of his being to ignore Han and sleep. But the howls shredded every nerve ending until he was a jumping, shaking mess. Finally, he marched out of the bedroom and knelt beside the crate, where Han made a frantic effort to escape his prison.
The book said hold a hard line. Arilyn had warned him of what could happen. What was he going to do?
He reached for the phone and punched in her number.
"Hello?"
"You gotta help me, Isabella."
"Liam? What's the matter? Is your puppy okay?"
He held the phone up to Han's wild cries. "Does that sound like he's okay?"
Her voice was husky with exhaustion. "You put him in the crate, right? Did he sleep at all last night?"
"No; neither of us did. I'm going out of my head. I took off an extra day so I can make some headway with his training, but I haven't slept, and he cries if I'm not with him, and he pees everywhere, and I'm so fucking tired. How are you coping?"
Her sigh told him everything. "I'm not. Same story here. Leia won't sleep and she tears through the house, and I already lost a shoe 'cause she's so small she wriggled into the tiny crack in my closet and had a leather feast."
"Yeah, I lost three table legs. You named her Leia?"
"Isn't that sweet? Princess Leia, to be exact. What did you name yours?"
He paused. Somehow he had a feeling she wouldn't like it. "Umm, Han. Han Solo."
Silence.
He rubbed his head and Han shrieked in frustration that he was still stuck in his crate. The voice on the line shook with temper. "What? You named him Han Solo? That's ridiculous! People are going to think we came up with that as a couple! Why did you have to do that?"
He growled back. "You don't have the rights to Star Wars--I always wanted a pet named after Han. He's my favorite character!"
"Yeah, but Leia is mine and I thought of it first."
"I had my name picked out for years."
"So did I! We're going to look idiotic at the dog park! Why couldn't you be more original?"
"Why couldn't you?" he practically shouted. "Listen, I don't have time for this stupid argument right now. You gotta come over."
"I'm not coming over!"
"I'm serious, Isabella. I need help. I'm on the edge. Arilyn said not to let him in the bed, and last night I ended up trying to sleep on the rug next to him but he cried all night. I'm falling apart. Bring over Leia. Maybe they miss each other."
A groan came over the line. "Maybe you should call Arilyn. I'm in my pajamas. I'm tired."
"Is Leia letting you sleep?"
A pause. "No. It's bad here. Very bad."
"Then I'll come to you. I'll be right over."
"No! Dammit, okay, I'll come over there. What's your address?"
He gave it to her. "Hurry."
"Look, I'm not interested in any shenanigans. I'm coming solely to help the dogs, so you have to promise not to make any moves."
"Are you kidding me? I have no interest in shenanigans either. Yes, you're hot and I want you bad, but I'm tired and cranky, and I just want to make him stop howling and peeing and chewing. Got it?"
"Fine."
The phone clicked.
Devine faced Han. Puppy teeth bit at the crate's bars, and he let out fierce howls, shaking his large ears when they flopped in his face. "Fine. We're getting company, so you can stay up later tonight." He
clicked open the door and scooped the puppy out. Raising him up to his direct vision, he spoke firmly. "There will be no more of this nonsense. When I declare bedtime, you need to sleep. But Isabella and Leia are coming over, so you get a respite."