Chapter 2 - Xenia

Today’s my day off. I should sleep in. If I could, I totally would. So what’s stopping me from languishing in my bed? Seventy-four pounds of fluff is trying to suffocate me as she climbs onto my chest shaking in fear because an ambulance sped past our building with the sirens blasting. Whoever named her Tinkerbell can go to hell with their sense of humor

“Tink…” I groaned under her weight, trying to get her off me so I could breathe. “I know… scary loud sounds.” I tried to soothe her by petting her head as I managed to get out from under her and lay on my side, giving up most of my bed to the massive six-month-old Leonberger puppy.

“You’re safe. I’m right here.” I assured her, snuggling into her soft fur as another siren outside made her whimper.

I sighed, turning my head to look at the clock on my microwave across my tiny apartment. No point trying to get any more sleep, I’m fully awake, and it will take some time to settle Tinkerbell down. Poor baby has severe anxiety about loud sounds. Her fear is why she flunked out of training while the rest of her litter are all moving forward and will be excellent therapy dogs.

“How about I get us both something to eat, and then we go for a… walk?” I suggested using an upward inflection to catch her attention as I said, ‘walk.’ Her head perked up as her tail started to wag. “You know the drill. I can’t do anything till you get down.” 

I groaned as Tinkerbell jumped with excitement making my futon bed shake before jumping onto the small floor area. I really should find a bigger place. Eighty square feet is not a big enough place for Tinkerbell and me, as she will keep getting bigger. But I can’t afford a bigger apartment.

Plus, I only pay six hundred fifty a month for this closet of an apartment. Sure it’s cramped, and I have to go into the hall to get to the tiny bathroom to take a piss, let alone shower, but for this price, it was a steal. Do you know how unheard of that is in Manhattan? 

So while Tinkerbell ate her kibble, I took my shower, and I should try out for the circus with how much I have to contort my body every morning to use that broom closet of a bathroom and get dressed in there. If it connected to my apartment, I wouldn’t bother changing in there, but I am NOT walking down the hall where the creepy guy across the hallway can leer at me in a robe.

Two hours later, I was dressed for a morning jog around Central Park with Tinkerbell. I was rocking black leggings with my comfy hot pink racerback tank top and running shoes. I’d spent a little longer drying my hair today before putting my black and blonde split-colored hair into a french braid.

Tinkerbell had her big pink flower clipped to her harness, so people stopped calling her a boy when they saw us walking because the pink harness and leash weren’t big enough. Just because she’s a large breed, people assume she must be a boy. I don’t like that. Big girls can and are just as beautiful as anyone else. That goes for every species, dogs and humans alike.

“Going for a walk?” Trevor called out to me, leaning in his doorway. 

I think he’s trying to flex. I don’t know, but no one stands that way unless they want to show their muscles. The problem is that Trevor doesn’t have any. The guy is such a creep. He moved in last year and has been trying to get me on a date since he saw me. And while he’s not the most unattractive guy I’ve met or that lives in this building, he’s a dick. As if I would respond favorably to his sexist and racist comments that he thinks are compliments. 

“No, I’m going to the Westminster Dog Show.” I rolled my eyes, hurrying Tinkerbell into the elevator. 

“Maybe I could….” Trevor started to offer something. I’m assuming he was about to offer to come with me. I’ve never been so grateful that this elevator’s door closes fast. 

“Mama bicho,” I muttered as the elevator started taking us down. 

I sighed, rubbing Tinkerbell’s side to keep her calm. I would have taken the stairs, but Trevor would have followed me. I don’t like putting Tinkerbell into uncomfortable situations, but I needed to get out of that awkward situation. “I know, Tink. But it was this or dealing with that creep. I’ll buy you a puppuccino on the way home to make up for it.” I promised. 

We walked the two miles from my building to Central Park, keeping to the far right on the sidewalk to avoid pedestrians and the loud sounds of cars passing by. Tinkerbell is usually okay with car sounds until people start honking their horns, screeching their tires, and leaning out the window to shout at other drivers. So we try to remain as small and out of the way as possible with a dog her size.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look at the doggie!” A small child shrieked as we entered the park. 

Oh, fuck, so it begins. I moved to intercept the child to keep her from getting to my dog. Tinkerbell loves kids, just older kids that aren’t shrieking maniacs with sticky fingers that don’t know how to pet an animal, let alone with long fur like Tink’s. “Back off, kid,” I instructed as I held my hand out. Poor Tinkerbell had already started to cower behind my petite frame. This kid better back off.

Of course, my tone sets the kid off. And like clockwork, they started bawling, finally catching her mother’s attention. The woman pocketed her phone, which was more important a second ago than knowing where her daughter was, before rushing over and grabbing her daughter’s hand, and glaring at me. “How dare you make my daughter cry. She wasn’t hurting anyone. She just wanted to pet your dog, you bitch.”

“How dare you not keep your kid under control. Teach her better. You don’t just rush up to a strange dog and try to pet it.” I countered, throwing the blame where it belonged, her irresponsible ass. “My dog doesn’t do well with small children. It is my job as a dog owner to protect my dog and, in this regard, protect your kid. So get out of my face and watch your mouth. There are little ones around.” I snorted.

“Tinkerbell, come,” I instructed with a soft whistle. 

Tinkerbell may not have passed the training to be a therapy dog, but she did learn her commands. She knows what I mean when I say come and whistle. Like the well-trained good girl she is, unlike that rugrat, Tinkerbell moved to my left and kept pace with me as we walked away, leaving the outraged Stepford wife in our dust. 

Putting that woman, her spoiled kid, and my creepy neighbor out of my head, I started to enjoy my walk. It was a lovely day out, the sun was shining, and Tink was doing great despite some louder ambient noises around us. So it was a good day.

We wandered for a while with no set destination before we both were tired. I have short legs, and Tinkerbell has a lot of fur, so we get tired quickly, and we walked over a mile to get to the park. I led Tinkerbell over to some shade so we could rest.

Or resting was my plan. Too bad life never goes the way I plan. A blur of yellow fur startled Tinkerbell with high-pitched barks as someone’s unleashed corgi started doing figure eights through Tinkerbell’s legs. This, of course, freaked my poor anxiety-riddled puppy out. “Tink… whoa… it’s okay.” I tried to calm her while I tried to grab the corgi with my free hand, wanting to stop it from scaring my dog.

Just as my fingers brushed the zoomy dog’s collar, it yipped and cut sharply away into Tink’s legs making her stumble and freak out more. Tinkerbell started barking in response. As she tried to get away from the corgi, she managed to yank her leash out of my hands. This is not good! 

The corgi barked again and nipped at Tinkerbell before racing off. I don’t know what was communicated between them or if it was just that she was still freaked out, but she chased after the corgi. “TINK!” I shouted as I barely managed to grab her leash again. 

Tragically I wasn’t strong enough to get her to stop. I was forced to follow her as she chased down that troublemaker corgi. I swear when I find that dog’s owner, I will give that bitch, yes, I’m assuming the owner is some Caucasian woman with what is not so affectionately called a Karen haircut, a piece of my mind. 

“Your…. owner….is… in deep… shit….” I panted, not that the corgi seemed to care. 

“ZEUS!” A deep voice boomed right before I ran smack into a wall. Okay, it wasn’t a wall per se, just a wall of muscle. The wall grunted as Tink chased the yipping corgi around us, wrapping the leash around our legs.

“Zeus, stop!” The man commanded.

“Tink! No!” I also yelled as I realized what was going to happen too late.

SPLASH! I just landed in Turtle Pond on top of the wall of muscle man and based on his grunt, my knee landed in his groin.