As soon as we’re outside, Chevron stops near a streetlight to relieve himself. Oh, crap! What if he has to go number two? I’ve nothing to pick it up with. Luckily, Chevron lowers his leg and looks up at me expectantly.

“Let’s go.”

“Woof!”

We make our way to the Hudson River. I start with a slow jog to see how Chevron copes as I’m not sure how malnourished he is. From the way he devoured his dinner yesterday, I’m guessing very.

Still, he seems able to keep up. I quicken my pace and he follows suit. Having this little ball of fur run at my feet makes me strangely blissful. Weird… running alone has always been my thing. Whenever a boyfriend or a friend asks to join me, I can’t help but resent them. Feels like an intrusion on my special me-time. Running is a moment of self-reflection and liberation I usually want to spend alone. But today, having Chevron track alongside, I’m one-hundred percent glad for the company. And the puppy seems to enjoy the exertion just as much.

All the same, I cut the run short. I don’t want to overwhelm this little guy.

Back home, I shower and search for shelters’ hours as I eat breakfast. Most don’t open until noon. I guess I could work from home in the morning and go to the office in the afternoon. Richard seems the kind of boss who’d be flexible about office hours. But I’d better make sure, so I text him to ask if it’s okay, explaining the dog situation. My phone pings back at once with his reply.

Why don’t you bring the little guy with you?

As per my contacts renaming kink, Richard ended up as Jerry Maguire. The sexiest boss in chick flick history seemed like a good match for him.

To the office?

R u sure?

Yeah

A friend of mine runs a vet clinic here in Brooklyn

I can take you both there when it opens

Another friend, huh? Someone with long legs and batting lashes, I’m sure.

I type, “Okay, thanks,” and end the text with a double paw emoji.

“Good news,” I tell Chevron. “You’re coming to the office with me.”

“Woof.”

“All right, let’s do this.”

Before we leave, I check the subway website for regulations on dog transportation… And we’re out of luck again. Apparently, all animals need to be inside a pet carrier to be allowed on trains.

“You know what? We’re going to walk today. It’s only two miles.”

“Ar rooff.”

Nikki, clad in cat-print PJs, shuffles out of her room like a zombie and joins us at the kitchen bar.

“Is there coffee?” she asks.

I pour her a mug while an overexcited Chevron waggles his tail in welcome.

Nikki ignores him. “You’re wasting your charms, little guy. I’m a cat person.”