Once a Father by Kathleen Eagle

personalities.
    â€œI’ll bet this one will be a good fetcher,” she said of the black. “The quiet one might be a sniffer. What do you have in your pocket, Teddy?” The yellow pup was determined to find out.
    â€œI don’t know.” He plunged his hand inside. “Oh, yeah, beef jerky. We get to keep one, and one of our cousins wants one, so there’s one more left. If you want one, you can take the boy.”
    â€œOne bitch is enough,” little girl echoing what she’d clearly been told. “Or else we have to get rid of Peaches.”
    â€œSounds like your mom laid the law down. You should be able to have Peaches spayed just as soon as everyone’s weaned.” And it was about time. Peaches needed an ally in that regard.
    â€œI’ll take care of it,” Logan said. “If you keep one of the pups, I’ll take them both in. Which cousin are you talking about?”
    â€œMaxine. So we get to keep one?”
    â€œThat’s up to Grandma, and Maxine’s dad has to take care of Maxine’s puppy. I’m just helping you guys out.”
    â€œLike you always do, Lala Logan.” Teddy noddedat the black puppy. “So you can have the boy if you want. Boys are easier to train.”
    â€œWhere’d you get that idea?” Mary took the yellow dog from Selina. “Let me show you how smart this girl is.” Within a few minutes—and with the help of Teddy’s beef jerky—Mary taught the puppy to sit by applying pressure to the scruff of her neck, reminding the kids that this was where Peaches picked them up.
    â€œShe likes you,” Salina said. The puppy nuzzled Mary’s hand.
    â€œShe knows she can trust me. That’s the first thing an animal wants to know about you. Are you going to hurt it? Are you going to feed it?” She laughed as she cuddled the dog to her breast. “Oh, yes, I’d gladly take you with me, but I can only have one dog where I live, and that has to be my partner.” She glanced up at Logan. “My canine partner.”
    â€œYou’ve got all kinds of partners,” Logan observed quietly.
    â€œPeaches is part police dog. You could make her puppy an army dog.”
    â€œWe don’t take puppies. In six months, eight months, if I’m still…” She ruffled the fur on top of the puppy’s head and made its ears flop like two babies waving bye-bye. “Yeah, you’d make some MP a fine partner, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œThat would be so cool,” Teddy said. “You couldkeep him for her until he’s old enough to go in the army, Lala.”
    â€œOne deal at a time.”
    She waited until they were back at his place loading the horse before she asked the burning question. “Is Lala a nickname?”
    â€œSort of. It’s short for tunkasila .”
    â€œWhich means?”
    â€œGrandfather.” The look on her face made him smile. “My sister’s their grandmother.”
    â€œBut your sister’s a lot older than you.”
    â€œSo? What does age matter?” He looked her in the eye. “Do you mind them calling me Lala?”
    â€œWell, no. I mean…”
    â€œOr calling you Lala’s girlfriend?”
    She glanced away. “They’re kids. Kids use all kinds of names for their relatives. But, really, you’re their uncle. Great uncle.”
    As if that meant something. Kids, grandpas, girlfriends, older, younger…what the hell did any of it mean? How different were they, anyway?
    â€œWhat’s a great uncle? Better than a good one?” He gave a perfunctory smile. “I don’t claim we’re doing it exactly as we always have, but traditionally there were no cracks for our kids to fall through. Anthropologists call it extended family. They draw charts with circles and arrows to explain what they call a complex system.”
    â€œIt does sound a little