How they met…

“That is a very tiny dog,” she said, bending down to pet the wee puppy.  “What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

“Seriously?  That’s what you came up with?  What girl dog, in her right mind, is going to want to date a boy dog named Fish?”

“He likes to swim,” he said, staring at his dog.

“Oh.  Then I guess naming your dog Fish makes some kind of sense.”

“I thought so when I named him.  Now I’m not so sure.”

“Why?  Because people tease you, or ask stupid questions like I did?”

“No, because Fish said he wants to be called Rover.”

She burst out laughing.

“Do you like dogs?” he asked, smiling at her.

“I do, but I’m a cat person,” she said, still trying to control her laughter.  “My cat is a lot bigger than your dog.”

Everything is a lot bigger than my dog.”

“Do you think he has small dog syndrome?”

It was his turn to laugh.

Just then the wee dog started growling and showing his teeth.  She looked around and stared at the Doberman coming their way.

“Uh, you might want to pick him up.  If the Dobe is hungry, Fish will make a very good snack.  Something like a Fish Taco only with dog.”

“I’m not worried,” he said.

Fish was growling louder, his body rigid with tension.

The man and his Doberman crossed the street.  Fish watched them go and after a few minutes, he started to wind down.

“What was that all about?  Did he think he could take the Doberman?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what he thought, didn’t you Fish,” he said, squatting down to pet his dog.  He talked baby talk to Fish for a minute or two, then stood up.  “What do you call your cat?”

“Medusa, or Dusa for short.”

“Is she a real Gorgon?”

“No.  I mean you can look at her and you won’t turn to stone, but she’s tough.”

“She must be, if she’s your familiar.”

“How did you know?” she asked, surprised.

“The silver pentagram was kind of a giveaway.”

“Oh, right,” she said, touching her necklace.

“Solitary or coven?”

“Solitary.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way.”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you think your cat will like my dog?”

“Excuse me?” she said, taken back.

“Will Dusa like Fish?”

“Maybe, she said.  “Why?”

“When we start going out, I’ll probably want to bring him over now and then.”

“Uh, am I missing something here?”

“Don’t you feel the magick?”

“I thought it was something I ate,” she said, covering her face with her hands.

He started laughing again.  “What kind of witch are you?” he asked.

“The regular kind,” she said.  “How about you?”

“Just your regular warlock.”

“I think Dusa and Fish will get along fine,” she said, staring at Fish, who was sitting on her foot, smiling at her.  “As long as he doesn’t try and sleep in her bed, she won’t rip his face off.”

“Wait.  Was that for me, or for Fish?” he asked, frowning.

She started laughing again.  “I’m not sure.”

“Let’s just get something to eat and we can sort it out then.”

 

 

 

This entry was posted in How they met, Short Stories and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to How they met…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s