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Chapter 131

Doesn't matter 'cause it's enough
To be young and in love

— Lana Del Rey, Love

. . . .

"Come on," I bend down and open my arms. "Come here, buddy."

I wait for my beautiful, two-month-old, Goldendoodle to run towards me. Lilly and I decided on the name George one night when she, Harry, and I were FaceTiming. We're not too sure where the name came from, but it stuck. He's so soft, playful, and a total sweetheart.

After my emotional outburst about a month ago, Harry, my father, and I had all agreed that getting an animal would be therapeutic and fulfilling towards my social needs. I would definitely agree that I've been preoccupied with him, but some days are still lonely, but that's life. I'm learning to be accustomed to it and call my dad or Harry when I'm feeling down. They talk me down, and I feel significantly lighter and more assured after talking to them. Getting this dog has been a positive reinforcement in my life, thank God.

A little while after I got him, Harry and Lilly came up and they fell in love with him all over again. She giggled and squealed as the puppy licked her face and rolled over onto his back when she walked into the room. Even Gunther cuddled up next to him and nudged his head against the puppy's. It was all very heartwarming to see. I felt full again.

When they left, I didn't feel that sense of comfort and familiarity being torn from me as they drove off in his car back home. I still had George with me to keep me company. Of course, I miss both of them like crazy, but I have a permanent friend with me.

Now I'm taking him for a short walk to give him his bathroom break and exercise for the day after I get out of school. I keep him by the windows so he has something to look at and is slightly warmed by the sun beaming in when it isn't blocked by the clouds.

I latch his leash to his little red collar and grab my keys and phone then head towards the elevator. He's too small to be able to climb up and down the stairs now, but I can't wait to see that adorable little thing hop down each step.

I bundle my coat around my body as we step out into the frigid weather. We walk around back where a little grass yard is spread with two wrought iron benches that are adjacent to one another and an old bird fountain is hanging on its last limb with withered and rotted leaves submerged in water. The edges of the stone are chipped and the base is becoming overgrown with an odd vine crawling up the outside.

George guides me towards the bird fountain and does his business nearby. I collect whatever I have to with a plastic glove and toss it in the garbage. I make sure to bring a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, plastic gloves, a bit of food for both me and him and a bottle of water in case one of us gets thirsty. I'm an overprotective dog-mom, essentially.

He trots around the yard for a bit, sniffing, whining, and playing with anything nearby. When it starts to get a bit windier, I pick him up as he licks my jawline and take him back into the building.

Once we're in the apartment, I pour a bit of food into his dish bowl and refresh his water. As he's having his lunch, I sit down at the coffee table and open my binder to work on my homework.

Midway through writing an outline for a paragraph in the book, my phone dings on the couch cushion behind me.

Harry: How's George?

Me: Perfect. I think he's enjoying it in his new home

Harry: Good, and I'm glad you're happier now.

Me: Me too. I feel much better at school knowing that I'll be able to come home to something that will keep me company and preoccupied but I feel bad because he's at home alone for a couple of hours every day