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cheeks to keep from laughing. Dylan, under no such pretense, was still laughing as she rose to her feet and reached down to haul Cat up as well. She

easily caught the towel Tam tossed her way and set to wiping off a gallon of dog drool that covered her face, arms, and hands.

The pack looked on.

Cat looked bewildered.

Dylan rolled her eyes and tossed the towel back to Tam. Then she turned to Cat. “I’d like you to meet Frigga, Odin, Thor, Beowulf, Syn, and Hamlet.”

Cat turned her bemused look from Dylan, to the dogs, to Tamara, and back again.

The dogs whined.

Tamara laughed.

Dylan sighed. “I have two Dobies of my own at home, Brunhilde and Siegfried. They’re brother and sister. Siegfried got snipped, and this is Brunhilde’s first,

and only, litter. Tamara trains guard dogs, and that’s what this motley group is supposed to be.”

“Oh, they are, never fear,” Tam replied, smirking. “They just know better than to attack the big chief.”

“They’re beautiful,” Cat said once she found her voice.

And they were. Sleek, shiny and well muscled, each black and tan dog was a model of its breed. Their eyes were intelligent and lively, and their teeth, Cat

noticed, were wickedly long, white and sharp.

“Yes, they are,” Dylan agreed. “The sire is over there.”

Cat looked in the direction of Dylan’s pointing finger, easily spying a huge black Doberman sitting just inside the fence, eyeing the scene with proprietary

interest.

“I’d like you to have one.”

The bewildered look reappeared on Cat’s face. “Me?”

“Yes, you. I know your complex allows pets, and you look like a dog lover.”

“Oh, I am, but….”

“They’re well trained,” Tamara interjected, walking over to the group. “Except when Dylan’s around.”

Dylan snorted.

“Completely housebroken,” Tam continued, shooting Dylan a look, “very devoted, and extremely protective of their master.”

“It’s nice to have someone around to talk to who won’t argue with you. And….” Dylan paused, looking directly at Cat, “they can help make nightmares go

away.”

Understanding dawned, and Cat felt a warmth steal into her. She smiled. “They can, huh?”

Dylan returned the smile, her eyes warm and affectionate. “Guaranteed.”

Cat took a long look at the dogs again, smiling at their inquisitive expressions. “I bet raising and training these beauties costs a lot of money,” she said as

casually as she could. “How much would one of them go for?”

Tamara grinned. “Oh, usually about twelve to fifteen hundred.”

“Dollars?!” Cat half-choked.

Tam’s grin broadened. “That’d be it, yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “However, as trainer and owner of the sire, I’m authorized to give you a

very…deeply discounted…price.”

“How deep.”

“How’s ‘free’ sound?”

Dylan chuckled at Cat’s speechlessness. “I didn’t bring you up here to sell you a dog, Cat. I brought you up here to give you one.”

“But…I couldn’t….”

“Sure you can. Just say ‘yes’. Unless you’re not a dog person.”

“I am, but….”

“Or just don’t want one.”

“I do, but….”

“Good. It’s a deal, then. Pick your poison.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Wow.” She looked over the dogs, then back at Dylan. “You’re sure?”

Dylan grinned. “I’m sure.”

“Ok. So…how does one go about picking their poison?” Cat grinned, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, my dad always picked out our dogs from the pound. With

ten kids all shouting different preferences to him, he always decided to just go it alone. I couldn’t tell a good dog from a bad one if you paid me.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re lucky,” Tamara replied. “I can tell, and these are all ‘good ones’. And I’m not just saying that because my male is their sire. I’ve

had them since birth, and I’ll guarantee that there’s not a bad one in the bunch.”

“So how do I choose?”

“Hut.” At the soft command, the dogs rose to their haunches in unison. At a nod from Tamara, they stood and walked over to Cat, greeting her with

wagging tails and playful nudges.

Cat laughed and pet the mass of fur wiggling around her until she heard a soft growl. She pulled her hand away quickly, and straightened, looking over at

Dylan.

Tamara laughed. “Well, well, well, that makes it easier, doesn’t it.”

Cat turned her questioning gaze to Tam.

“Looks like instead of choosing, you got chosen.” Following Tam’s gaze, Cat noticed one dog sitting proudly at her side. The rest of the pack had moved off

in response to the growl. “Cat, meet Hamlet. He’s decided you’re going to be his human and it doesn’t look like he’s going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

As Cat looked down into the golden brown eyes of her new dog, she instantly fell head over heels in love. “Hello, Hamlet,” she said softly, scratching him

behind the ears. Hamlet gave a soft “wuf!” and licked her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, laughing.

Cat walked into the pet store, not really knowing what she wanted for her new best buddy, but knowing that it had to be something special. She had

already loaded him up on the ‘right’ food and treats. And since he was sleeping at the foot of her bed, she wasn’t particularly concerned with finding him a