Stay by Allie Larkin Page A

and looked up at me with his big, sweet brown eyes, like I was the greatest being in the entire universe.
    “You’re lucky you’re cute,” I told him.
    I took my shirt off, trying not to get the poop all over myself, and washed my hands, soaping up and rinsing three times. I scooped up the poop on the carpet with the paper plate and dumped it in the toilet. When I flushed, Joe came over. He watched the water in the toilet swirl around, wagging his tail like we were having a grand old time. I threw the paper plate and my shirt away in the bathroom garbage and tied up the liner. There was no way I was ever going to be able to wear that shirt again without thinking it smelled like poop, no matter how many times I washed it. I sprayed some carpet cleaner on the stain and left it to do its thing.
    “Too bad we can’t just teach you how to use the potty like a big boy,” I told him as I ran into the bedroom to get a clean shirt. He gave me a solemn look and started whining again. He hadn’t peed since we were in the airport parking lot, and I realized he probably had to go desperately.
    “Okay. Okay. Let’s go,” I said, running for the door. Joe followed. I threw on my jacket, buttoning it all the way so no one could tell I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I looped the leash around Joe’s neck and held on to the tiny puppy collar. He whined and wagged his tail. As soon as I got the front door open, he pulled so hard that he almost ripped my arm off. Fresh air never smelled so good. But Joe wasn’t going to let me stop to enjoy it.
    “Slow down!” I yelled, but Joe strained against the leash like he would rather choke himself than stay still, so I picked up the pace. When I walked faster to try to get some slack on the leash, he walked faster too. But when I tried to slow down, he kept speeding along. The cold air stung my lungs and I was getting a stitch in my side. I wondered if somewhere on the yellow paper Joe came with there was a command for stop being a jerk and walk like a normal dog .
    I was out of breath and exhausted before we’d even made it a quarter of the way around the block. Just when it seemed like Joe was starting to walk at a reasonable pace, a cat ran across the street about fifteen feet ahead of us, and Joe took off, pulling me along with him. He sprinted up the street.
    “Joe! Stop! Stop! K Nohe! L’ahni!” I yelled, because they were the only commands I could remember. He didn’t even hear me. He was practically dragging me down the street and I was running faster than I had since I was a kid playing tag on the playground.
    Suddenly we hit a patch of ice, and my legs flew out in front of me. I fell on my ass right in the middle of the street, dropping his leash. As soon as I hit the ground, I could picture the big purple bruise I was going to get. Joe chased the cat until she ran up a tree, and then he came running back to me, tail wagging, like it was a job well done.
    When I tried to get up, Joe put his big muddy paws on my shoulders and licked my face until I was covered with slime. “Damnit, Joe! Get off me!” I pushed him off and wiped my face with my sleeve. I got up and tried to brush the mud off my ass, but I only made it worse. I could tell I was going to be sporting a major bruise, and I was ready to go back to the condo.
    I reached for Joe’s leash but he ran, pulling it just out of range. He stood still and looked at me. I walked toward him and reached for the leash. Again he ran a few steps ahead. I stumbled, but kept going, trying to grab the leash. Every time I almost had it, he’d run. I felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick Lucy’s football.
    Joe grabbed the end of the leash in his mouth and shook his head violently like he was killing prey. Then he pranced around in the grass, mocking me.
    “Stop being such a dick!” I said to him, feeling utterly ridiculous as soon as I said it. Joe raced ahead, the leash still in his mouth. He slowed down and walked a few paces in