originalgrilla-blog

junkyardteen.

caught somewhere between  half - listening  and giving the dog the  undivided attention  it deserves,  bullet glances over her shoulder,  peering at him from the rear passenger seat.    it’s the first time in weeks that she had felt genuine happiness.    the first time in  months  that it hadn’t been fleeting,  unfamiliar.     “     p’ft.    kinda like i gotta keep my eye on you ?    make sure you eat,  get’cha exercise ?    i’ll take care of her,  yo.    you got my word.    where’d you get her from,  anyway ?    don’t look like no pound pup.     ”

    p’ft,   whatever,   i ain’t the only one who needs  supervision  ‘n whatnot.          seeing her like this is so rare,   he almost doesn’t want to say anything    —    doesn’t even want to  breathe  wrong in case he breaks the spell and somehow prompts that smile to drop off her face again.    isn’t entirely sure how she’ll receive the news that this was a service dog,   so that’s the one thing he omits.       ‘     mamacita’s a purebred,   no  doubt.    i got this friend,   right,   this guy who knows a guy who breeds ‘em    —    ‘n see,   like,   normally ?    these babies’ll go for  seven g’s,   easy.    gave me a deal ‘cause i called in a favor and my powers of persuasion are off the damn  charts.    you are  welcome.