“That’s Maisy.”
I peer into the little bag to see a tiny black and white face staring back at me.
“Are you telling me that’s a dog?”
“Of course she’s a dog!” Alina opens the bag a little more and lifts out the tiny ball of fluff. “She’s a Japanese Chin.”
“That’s an Asian body part,” I say, “not a dog.”
“Ha ha.”
I step back from the bag and glare down at the little thing. She looks up at me, and her tiny tongue hangs out of the side of her mouth as she pants. She has buggy eyes, a squished up nose, and she can’t weigh more than eight pounds.
This is not at all what I had envisioned. I probably should have asked her what kind of dog she had just to keep my shock at bay. I’ve never seen a dog like this before, and with her coloring, she looks more like a fluffy skunk than anything canine.
“Are you sure the breeder didn’t lie to you? I think you got a de-scented skunk.”
“She is not a skunk!”
“She looks like one!”
“She certainly does not! Her father was a show dog, and she looks just like him!” Alina places the thing on the floor, and the fluffball looks around the room for a moment, sniffing the air.
I crouch in front of Maisy and hold my hand out to her. She comes over immediately, sniffs me, and licks my fingers. I pet her on her back, and she rubs her head against my leg as she watches me intently.
“I think she likes you,” Alina says.
“You’re sure she’s not a big rat?”
“Stop that! What were you expecting? A German Shepherd?”
I don’t reply. Instead, I go over to the bag with a pet store logo on it, sitting on the kitchen counter. I pull out the big rawhide bone I’d bought for the dog. It’s about half Maisy’s size.
“What do you think?”
Alina covers her mouth with her hand, and her eyes sparkle.
“Did you get that for her?”
“I got that for a dog. I’m still trying to figure out what she is.”
“What kind of dog did you have before?”
“A Great Pyrenees. He was about a hundred and thirty pounds.”
“Oh, wow! That’s more like a small pony!”
I bring the giant bone over to Maisy and put it down beside her. She sniffs and licks at it a bit but doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. I suppose it’s like giving a person half a cow and waiting for them to put some steak sauce on it and chow down. She paws at it a bit, but can’t move it at all. Giving up, she rolls over on her back and noses my foot. I rub her belly, and her tail wags furiously. Pulling back my hand, I stand up, and Maisy stands with me.
“It’s all right, Maisy,” Alina says. “You can go check things out.”
Maisy looks up at Alina before walking over to the couch to give it a sniff. She checks out the leg of the coffee table briefly and then comes back to sit by my foot. She barely comes halfway up my calf.
As Alina puts the contents of her backpack in her room, Maisy follows me everywhere I go—the kitchen, the bedroom, even the bathroom. When I try to shut the door, she whines until I let her in. She comes right up to me while I shave and sits her butt down on the toe of my boot.
“You’re a pesky thing, aren’t you?”
She lolls her tongue and stares at me with those bug-eyes.