Two sizes too small
“What the hell is that?”
It was all she could do not to drop the thing in her hands, it wriggled so much. Unfathomably, the look on her face was pure delight. “My new puppy. Isn’t she adorable?” Her voice was one octave short of a squeal.
“That is not a dog. To call it a dog is an insult to dogkind.”
“Not a dog yet.” She held it close and let it lick her face. I almost dry heaved. “Granted, she won’t get much bigger. Chihuahuas stay pretty teeny.”
A chihuahua. Great. Cheese on crackers, I hated tiny dogs. Anything smaller than a beagle was a waste of space and fur. And this abomination would fit in my shirt pocket.
“Here, hold her.” She thrust it at my face. I just stood there. It looked like it belonged in a rat trap.
Except, rats didn’t wag their tales, nor become so happy at the sight of you that their entire bodies wiggled. A strange sensation warmed my chest. I didn’t like where this was going.
She sneezed. Aw, shit. That was cute.
“Put her in my pocket,” I sighed.
She was a perfect fit.