He wisely didn’t follow me as I made my way to the bathroom. Rachel already moved around in the kitchen.

“Are you a coffee drinker?” she called to me.

With a mouthful of toothpaste, I had to spit before I could answer.

“No. More of a milk or orange juice person.” I finished up in the bathroom, joined her in the kitchen, and noticed her scrubs.

“Going to work?” I asked as I sat on a kitchen chair and pulled my feet up from the cool floor.

“Yep. Sorry to leave you on your own so soon. I’ll be back around five. If you need anything, just call my cell. If I don’t answer, leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.” She filled a travel mug with the coffee she had made and rinsed out the pot. “Oh, when I went to bed, Clay whined at your door, so I let him in. Hope that was okay...”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” What else was I supposed to say without sounding weird or bitchy? Inspiration to pay him back for his sneaky method struck.

“Have you thought of taking him to a vet?”

Rachel paused mid-rinse. “I hadn’t, but you’re right. He should probably go if we’re going to have him in the house with us. I’ll call around and make an appointment. I need to check into licensing him, too. Ugh. Shots are probably going to cost a fortune.” She looked at me pleadingly.

Darn idea to get back at him would cost me money. “Yeah, I’ll go in halves.” I got up and started back toward my room.

“Great. Talk to you tonight,” she called as she went out the back door.

Clay still sprawled on my bed. He took up the full width with his back paws folded in toward his stomach so they wouldn’t fall off. I stood in the doorway and studied him while he, in turn, watched me. We were finally alone, and I was determined to set some rules.

“First, I’d like to clarify that this does not qualify as getting to know each other. Second, you smell like wet dog. If you want to continue to sleep in my room, on my bed, you’ll let Rachel give you a bath when she gets home.” He snorted at that but didn’t get off the bed. “Third, once I’m awake, you get out. I know what you are, and I am not changing in front of you.”

He outright harrumphed at that one, and I swore I saw a canine smile. But, he did hop down from the bed. He left the room with quiet dignity.

I closed the door behind him, remade the bed—thankfully, he didn’t appear to shed—and grabbed some clothes. I had two goals for the day. First, I needed to figure out how long it would take me to walk to the campus from here. Then, I needed to learn the bus schedule for the days I ran late or the weather prevented walking. If worst came to worst, I’d buy a beater car to drive.

Opening the door, I was startled to see Clay sitting there patiently waiting for me.

“What are you doing?” I asked when he didn’t move. Of course, he didn’t answer.

I eyed him warily and walked past him. In the kitchen, I grabbed the house key from the counter then moved to the back door. Clay’s nails clicked on the floor as he followed me.

“I’m going for a walk, and you’re staying here,” I said when he made to follow me outside.

Clay growled slightly in response.

His deep growl gave me pause. He sounded scary.

“Please don’t do that. Unless you really are trying to scare me.”

His fur continued to bristle, but his growl stopped. Our relationship wouldn’t go anywhere if he thought he could bully and maneuver me to his way of thinking.

“And don’t crab at me. I’m not the unlicensed dog without a leash. Do you want me to talk Rachel into buying a pink collar for you?”

He coughed out a strangled bark then turned and walked back to the living room.

“See you later,” I said, feeling a little smug.

The walk to campus took about forty minutes. I didn’t mind the time, but the distance and the number of catcalls I’d received made walking impractical and unsafe. After checking the bus schedule and stops, I knew I’d need to buy a car. A necessity that would put a significant dent in my savings.

On the way home, I stopped at a small grocery store to pick up some essentials. Browsing, I found a new bar of soap, an extra toothbrush, dog food, and groceries for the week.

Loaded down with the bags, it seemed to take forever to reach the house. When I finally got there, my arms ached. I would need to remember to bring one of my messenger bags if I ever walked there again. It made carrying things so much easier. I made my way to the back of the house and saw Clay sunning on the deck.

“Nice to know you can let yourself out,” I said as I walked past him. I nudged open the door and kicked it closed behind me. With a sigh, I put the bags on the table and began to unpack.

After a sharp bark from outside, I grudgingly turned to let Clay in.

“What? Can’t let yourself back in?” He didn’t respond, except to sit by the sink. I went back to the table and reached into one of the bags.

“Look what I got you.” I pulled out a small bag of dog food.

Clay growled again, but it lacked any menace.

“You want to look like a normal dog don’t you? Well... as normal as a dog your size can look, anyway.” I set the bag on the floor next to the bowl of water Rachel had set out for him and continued to unpack, saving the soap and toothbrush for last.

“These are for you. You have two choices. You can use them when Rachel’s gone, or you can wait until she’s back, and I’m sure she’d be happy to help you.”

He studied me for a moment then walked out of the kitchen, turning toward the bathroom. I followed a few steps behind.

A startled yelp escaped me when I rounded the corner and caught sight of a naked backside. Without much thought, I tossed the soap and toothbrush in and slammed the door shut.

“You could have waited until I put the stuff in there,” I said through the door as my heart thundered in my ears. I took a steadying breath and heard the water turn on, the clink of his dog tag hitting the sink, then the shower curtain move.

Who would have thought he would even know how to use a shower? I hadn’t. On the way home, I’d started to think of all the different things I would need to explain, like making sure to position the curtain inside the tub. Standing outside the door, still reeling from the view I’d gotten, I realized I might see the same thing again if I didn’t get him a towel.

I’d packed two bath towels. Purchased from a discount store, they both sported gaudy floral designs. I grabbed one and waited outside the door again until I heard him splashing in the shower. Then, I knocked.

“I have a towel for you,” I said through the door. “If you’re still in the shower, I can open the door and toss it on the toilet seat. Okay?” I didn’t hear anything. No surprise. “Okay, I’m coming in.” I waited a moment for any indication that I shouldn’t enter.

When the water continued to run, I cautiously opened the door. As soon as I saw a clear path to the toilet seat, I tossed the towel. Standing just inside the bathroom with my hand wrapped around the door handle for a quick exit, I paused. His new toothbrush rested on the sink.

“My toothpaste is the one marked with the pink nail polish on the cap. I’ll let you use it as long as you promise not to squeeze the tube from the middle.”

His answer took the form of an accurately aimed splash of water over the top of the shower curtain. I barely dodged it.

“You’re cleaning that up.”

I closed the door, grabbed a book, and went to the couch to wait. I hoped he would use the towel before he turned back into a dog. He’d make a mess if he shook out in there. After a minute, I actually opened the book and started to read.

Several minutes later, the water turned off. With my attention divided between listening and trying to associate an action to each sound I heard, I couldn’t concentrate on my book. A moment of silence. Then running water. It sounded like the sink. Brushing his teeth? Then silence again. It remained quiet until I heard the doorknob turn. Quickly, I held the book higher to block my view, just in case he chose not to wear his fur...or the towel. A chuffing bark, apparently his dog version of a laugh, had me lowering my comically high book.