“Shat himself?” I had tears running out the sides of my eyes by this point.
Ignoring me, she continued, “So, now he has wheat-free food, but he occasionally gets into something in the pantry, or one of my brothers feeds him something that has wheat in it because they have the memory of roadkill.”
“What do you do now?”
Getting up, she walked toward the bathroom. “Get something to get rid of the smell. I don’t have napalm, so Febreeze will have to do.”
Realizing that he wasn’t welcome, Hanky let out a groan and shuffled to the side of the bed, looking down at the floor like he was jumping to his death.
“Do the dogs have stairs or something?” I called to her, hearing the cabinets opening in the room she was in. “This one looks like he can’t get down.”
“You might have to help him. If he’s eaten wheat, his belly will be uncomfortable—a bit like when a human has a food intolerance—and jumping will make it more uncomfortable for him.”
I really didn’t want to pick him up, not when he was farting like a thirteen-year-old boy. But I also wasn’t cruel and didn’t want him to hurt himself, so I got up and walked around the bed to where he was still staring at the floor.
Miniature Dachshunds were weird looking dogs. They had long bodies with tiny legs that looked like they could hardly hold them up. Even standard Dachshunds looked strange to me, though. How did they get places? Did they ever get their bodies stuck? How did they have any coordination?
Reaching out, I gingerly picked him up, like I was taking hold of a bomb. In a way, I guess I was. The second my hands touched him, he started wagging his tail and running through the air as I lifted him. It was so amusing to watch that I forgot all about his problem until a noise like someone blowing a raspberry came out of him.
That was when I put him on the ground and backed away, picking up the nearest thing I could find—Ariana’s bra. Thankfully it wasn’t one of those thin lacy ones, so it did the job of protecting me from the ass emissions of a dog.
“Did he do it again?” she sighed, coming back into the room with the can in her hand, spraying as she went. When she got to the bed, she stopped and sprayed in sweeping arcs over it.
“Yeah, he did it again. In my hands,” I told her, holding up her hands like they had radiation contamination on them.
Wincing, she sprayed a little more in one area and then waved her arm around to spread it out. “This stuff usually works.”
I’d take her word for it. I wasn’t coming out from behind the mask saving my life until I was sure it was all gone.
Looking over her shoulder at me, Ariana rolled her eyes when she saw how I was standing. “I thought you’d be used to farts and things like that.”
I removed the bra cup long enough to hastily say, “Human ones, yeah. Canine or animal in general, no.”
And then I remembered I’d been holding him when he’d farted, so I moved around her toward the bathroom to wash them. The relief when I entered the new room was unreal, I could take the mask off and breathe fresh air again.
“Sorry about that,” she sighed as she adjusted her pillow with heavy smacks. “I swear his ass could be used as a form of gas torture.”
I don’t know why I divulged what I did next… Actually, yes, I do. I trusted Ariana, so it all came out of me naturally. “I’ve had years of nightmares, so I thought it was one of those. I guess it was a relief that I was woken up by him jumping on the bed and dropping an ass bomb than reliving...” It didn’t matter how much I trusted her, I couldn’t finish the sentence. Not because of her but because of me.
Wise eyes watched me carefully like she was weighing up what she was going to say back.
Please don’t ask questions, baby. If I have to talk about it, I’ll never get back to sleep.
Her response when it came surprised me, but only just a little. I swear this woman could read me better than even I could. “Then there’s reason to rejoice that Hanky’s ass was what woke you up.”
Snickering and then grimacing when I caught an undertone of Hanky in the air, I muttered, “In a way, I guess that’s good. I thought you said that shit would get rid of it.”
“We’re good, Parker, it’s all gone. I even opened a window!”
Picking the bra back up again, I joined her in the bedroom and even got back into bed—with it still stuck to my face, obviously.