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Chapter Five
I pull up outside the pet shop and decide to take the furball in with me. Who leaves dogs in cars these days anyway? Actually, he really needs a name, I think. Hmmm. I look at him, his adorable oversized bat-like ears, and decide that Batfink is a perfect fit. Happy, I jump out of my truck, remove my ripped cardigan, which I toss onto the seat, and then head inside. On the way in, I grab a basket and randomly start chucking stuff in one handed, while I try to carry Batfink. Without a leash, I can’t put him on the floor, and I’m not too sure about letting him sit in the basket.
Only, maybe it was a bad idea to bring him in here; all the smells must be driving him wild because he scrambles out of my arms and drops elegantly to the floor, before tearing off out of sight. For something so small, damn is he fast!
“Shit!” I mutter.
I take off after him, abandoning the basket on the floor. I find him several aisles later, on top of the freezers containing the raw feeds. Gross. I don’t think I can do it, but when I try to lift Batfink away, he scratches his paws on the glass and whines. So what do I do? I give in, because I’m a sucker, and because he’s making a scene and I’m dying of embarrassment.
I pick Batfink up so that I’m staring him right in the eye and tell him firmly, “Behave. I’ll get you the food you want,” which of course immediately makes him revert to being an angel. Stubborn little git.
“Looks like he knows what he wants,” a voice calls from behind me as I struggle to keep hold of the frantic furball.
“Oh, hey, Calluna!” I call out, after a quick glance over my shoulder tells me the shop owner is the one talking to me. “Yeah, I think I’m going to have to give in on this one. I’m a pushover.”
I turn to face her, and she shoots me a smile until her gaze drops down to the furball in my arms and then her face falls.
“Erm, Jasmine, what the hell is that?” She points at Batfink as if it wasn’t completely obvious what she was referring to.
“My new...dog?” I ask hopefully. There goes my theory of Calluna being able to identify his breed. I thought she knew everything to do with animals.
“That is definitely not a dog. It's strange, but I'm not completely sure what he is.”
“What? The rescue shelter said he was probably a mongrel…” I begin to say.
“Only men are mongrels,” she snarks, making me smile.
“So I figured that mongrel meant he was a dog,” I finish.
She approaches Batfink and immediately starts to coo and show him the love, which he laps up with relish.
“Not a dog, doll,” she repeats, shaking her head.
“Well, whatever he is, he’s mine. Or it would seem, as he’s apparently the one in charge here, that I am his.”
Batfink gives a small yip in agreement, and Calluna looks amused. She shakes her head at me, but I know she’s as much of a sucker for furballs as I am. Though I do briefly wonder what the hell I've taken on, but then I look down at his little face and shrug. He’s too cute. I’m a pushover.
A fleeting thought flies through my mind that maybe, just maybe, Batfink has found me because he’s meant to be my familiar...but just as quickly I dismiss the idea. I’m a half-witch, so no familiars for me.
We finish our shopping expedition without incident. Well, almost without incident. There was a slight moment when aisle four needed a cleanup after Batfink went postal because I tried to put a collar and lead on him...but other than that he was a perfect gentleman. So long as he was getting his own way. I loaded up on toys and treats and every useless amenity needed for raising a not-a-dog.
Calluna seemed amused. She told me I didn’t need to buy half that shit, but hey, it’s all profit in her till right? You’d think she’d be happy that I’m clueless and panic-buying.
As I’m paying and rummaging around in my bag for my purse, Calluna holds Batfink and shows him some lovin’. He basks in her adoration like he’s king of the world.
“Shit, I can’t find anything in this stupid bag!” I grumble, dumping the contents onto the counter.
“Good book?” Calluna asks, nodding to the romance novel. I blush.
“So far, yeah. It’s not my normal style, and I’m not too far in yet, but…yeah...I like it. It’s, errr, better than the cover suggests.”
I’m saved from having to meet her eye by locating the purse. I hand over the cash without a word and then distract myself by repacking my bag. Well, hastily shoving everything back in. The book tingles under my touch again but in my flustered state, it barely registers.
“Enjoy your book,” she tells me. “I’ve actually read that one and it’s very, very good.” There’s something in the way she praises it, in the knowing look she gives me, and the smirk she throws at Batfink as she hands him back to me, that has me wondering what the hell that’s supposed to mean.
***
Done, I head to the shop for the day, Batfink in tow. I can’t park outside like I normally do, because a massive dumpster stands in my usual space, so I have to take one further up the road. I’m walking to the shop door, keys, bags and Batfink in hand, trying not to drop anything when a loud voice calls, “Watch out below!”
