Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 19

Even though she was only moving between her top-floor apartment and the backyard, each time Jenna headed outside with Seven on Friday, she leashed him up. Getting him leashed took considerable patience and cajoling, but Jenna didn’t think it was her imagination that he shied away less and less from the short pettings she doled out before unhooking him.

Dropping to her knees on their fourth trip outside so far today, she sank beside Seven and lowered the canvas tote carrying two newly painted pots to the ground next to her. Anticipating another petting, Seven flattened his ears against his head, making Jenna chuckle. “You’re such a sweet boy, Seven, even when you’re up to no good like earlier.”

Jenna ran her hand down his head and along his back and soaked in the feel of his long, silky fur and warm body underneath. He only seemed to get anxious when she neared his hips and tail, so Jenna stopped at the middle of his back for now, imagining if one day she’d be able to do so from tip to tail without him minding. Miracles never ceased.

“It hasn’t been such a bad day, has it?” He’d been anxious when Jake—who’d looked darn sexy in the suit he was wearing for his court case—had dropped him off early this morning, but for the last hour or two, he’d relaxed some. “According to that trainer in St. Louis, you need these pettings as much as anything.”

After several gentle strokes, Jenna buried her fingers in the thick hair around his neck and scratched, working her way underneath his collar. She must’ve hit a sweet spot because Seven unexpectedly leaned into her touch and one back leg thumped in the air. Like a perfectly normal, average, run-of-the-mill family dog. Too surprised for words, Jenna simply scratched as Seven continued to lean into it. She worked her way up and down his neck, and before long, something between a grunt and a groan escaped him, making Jenna laugh.

As if realizing he’d let down his guard, Seven abruptly sidestepped out of reach. Staring her in the eye, he barked once and wagged his tail.

“I’m sorry. I don’t speak dog, but you seem to be saying both yes and no at the same time.” Seven looked pointedly across the yard as if reminding her that this was his time to be free. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Enough petting for now. God forbid we overdo it, and you become overly domesticated. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Jenna stood up and Seven, anticipating her next move, sank onto his haunches and crooked his neck so she had easy access to unhook his collar. “Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not a smart one.”

Once unhooked, Seven bolted away, dashing around the yard with the speed and excitement of a dog who hadn’t been free to do so in weeks rather than the ninety minutes since they’d been out here last. Hoisting her tote, Jenna headed for the garden shed.

Although she still had the weekend ahead of her, she dreaded returning to work next week. Not only would she be staring at a bright screen most of the day, but she’d also be going without the midday nap that had proven more enticing than a midday cup of coffee all week. As she unpacked her two newly painted pots, Jenna debated rather to repot the succulents she hoped to take with her to the market tomorrow or wait until later this afternoon. The now-familiar headache that popped up every afternoon since the accident was pressing in, and nothing took care of it like a nap.

Jenna had left the storm door propped open to keep an eye on Seven as she worked, and a movement caught her eye. The dog stood in the doorway. Without a single paw past the threshold, he sniffed the air, nose lifted. It was the first time all day he’d shown any interest in what Jenna was doing when she stepped inside here.

“Hey, boy. Did you get your zoomies out already?” Seven wagged his tail back and forth, head tilted. “Fair warning, it’ll be naptime soon, so soak up the outdoors while you can.”

Jenna returned her attention to her potted plant stock, deciding if she had enough ready to take with her to tomorrow’s pop-up market or if she needed to do some potting this afternoon. Preseason as it was, traffic would likely be light. When she looked back at Seven what seemed like just seconds later, he had one of the spider plants that had been on the shelf nearest him clamped between his teeth and was wagging his tail hopefully. Even though it was in a cheap plastic pot from the wholesaler, it was still not something he should have. Jenna pointed to the floor and did her best to sound authoritative yet not terrifying. “No, Seven!” She pointed to the ground. “Drop it, boy.”

Seven backed up, plant clamped between his teeth, and dipped into a play bow.

“Seven, this isn’t a game. Drop it!”

With a wag of his tail, Seven bounded away, turning his head to see if she was following, as if enticing her to play. He’d done this with the boys at her sister’s house, snatching up their toys in hopes of getting them to play, and before labeling Seven as untrainable, Monica and Stuart had been working with the boys on the “drop it” command as well as getting them to replace whatever off-limit item he grabbed with an acceptable dog toy. As far as Jenna knew, this was the first time in the last month that he’d attempted to play with an adult, with the exception of what Jake had been doing out here with him this last week, but Jake had been initiating that play, not Seven.

As the wound-up dog bounded further into the yard, tail wagging and hopping along like the Easter Bunny, Jenna clamped her lips together to hold back a laugh. If he wanted to play, she’d play, but first she needed to save her plant from further harm. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tennis ball resting in the empty center hole of the patio table. One of the other occupants must’ve seen it and stuck it there while passing between the garage and the house.

Heading over, Jenna grabbed it and bounced it at her feet. Dipping his head, Seven dropped the spider plant on the grass in front of him and barked loudly, fluffy tail wagging in excitement.

Not wanting to miss out on another potential training moment, Jenna kept Seven’s attention on the tennis ball while heading his direction. When she got close enough, she swept the plant off the ground and held out both for him to see. Seven impatiently waited through a few firm noes when she held up the plant and some encouraging yeses when she held up the ball.

Before throwing the ball for him, she returned the spider plant to the potting shed and closed the door. There’d be no selling the plant until some of the broken leaves regrew, but no real harm had been done, and spider plants weren’t toxic to pets, so no worries there.

Fixated on the ball in her hand, Seven bounded along beside her just past arm’s reach. Once the shed door was closed, he barked excitedly. “You win, Seven. Let’s play.”

Jenna threw the ball across the yard, and Seven dashed after it. Progress wasn’t always a straight line, she reminded herself. Sometimes it was the accidental savoring of neck scratches and the snatching of off-limit items in an attempt at play, and she’d take each and every bumpy opportunity he’d give.