Practicing Parenthood

“We?” Collin asked, anxious. “Let’s call animal control. Then he won’t be anybody’s problem anymore. They can take him to the pound.”

“The pound!” Madison cried, shocked. “No way. Besides, this island is too small for that. We’ve got one fire station and not even a police station.”

Collin frowned. “What if there’s trouble? Does everybody just hope it goes away?”

“Usually there isn’t, but in an emergency, we call the shore, and the police can helicopter someone over.”

“But they can’t get here that fast,” Collin noted, not liking the idea of his future wife and future baby being on an island where the police were a helicopter flight away.

“It’s a peaceful place,” she said. “Or was. Till you got here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Collin asked, defensive. Near his feet, the yellow dog lifted his now-wet snout from the bowl of water and whined.

“Never mind. Anyway, there’s no pound, so we’re going to find his owner.”

“What if he doesn’t have one?”

The dog cocked his head to one side. “We’re on an island, so I don’t think he swam here.” She glared at him, and he felt the sudden urge to march back to his rental house, grab his things and head straight for the first ferry off this little rock.

“What if they don’t want this ugly dog back?”

“He’s not ugly! He’s adorable.”

Collin sighed. Here went the softhearted defense attorney, wanting to give everyone a second chance.

“I think he’s a poodle mix. Maybe a labradoodle or a golden doodle.”

“He’s a no-doodle, if you ask me.” Collin frowned at the dog.

“You’re so mean!” Madison exclaimed. “Can’t you have a heart, for once?”

“I have a heart,” he argued, a little taken aback.

“Really?” She looked skeptical and that stung.

“I’m not that bad. Only to the bad guys.”

“Look, why don’t you go back to...” Madison lost her train of thought. “...wherever you came from and I’ll take care of the dog. I can go knock on doors.”

“You? Take this disaster around and knock on strangers’ doors?” Collin was horrified. “In your condition?” He suddenly imagined a host of problems—heat stroke or an accident—or even worse, serial killers lurking behind every palm tree.

“I’m pregnant, not paralyzed,” Madison said, narrowing her eyes. “And you don’t care about this dog, so I’ll do it.”

Collin let out a sigh. He’d have to go with her. He didn’t want her wandering around the island with a dog nearly as big as she was. Puppy or not. “I’m coming with you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, lifting her chin.

“You’re getting it anyway. Can you let me put on some clothes first?”

Madison glanced uneasily at his bare chest. “I guess so.”

The yellow dog barked his approval.

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