Logan Chapter 29

-Emory-

I had to call out of work for the entire week. At first, I thought the feelings were just heartbreak, but then there were other weird symptoms. The bite on my neck is itchy as hell, and I feel like my skin is a jumpsuit two sizes too small on me. I had no idea it was even possible to be the wrong size for your own skin, but I am. It doesn’t seem to matter how much lotion I use. I have aches like the flu, but no sneeze or fever. I haven’t been eating anything other than ice cream and sometimes half of my usual takeout orders, and I’ve been quickly losing weight as a consequence.

It isn’t lost on me that trying to lose weight is what got me in this mess, and now those ‘stubborn’ twenty pounds are just melting off me like butter. My doctor is happy about that part, if a little bemused about everything else. They put me on antibiotics even though there was no sign of infection in the bite wound. I got myself drug tested and nothing came up, but that just means he must have used something they don’t test for, right? I don’t have any STDs either, thankfully. Just whatever this weird new disease is. I hope I don’t go down in history as the name of some exotic new way to die.

Another weird thing has been that dog. I think it’s the same one, anyway. He’s the same massive size, he has the same coloring, still without a collar. Any time I’ve looked out my window, I’ve seen him sitting across the street, looking up toward my window. Maybe he followed me home? At first, I thought maybe his owners had ordered him to sit and stay while they were at work or something- that would make him the most well-behaved dog ever, but I’ve seen other dogs do some crazy things online so I wasn’t ruling anything out. As the week went on, though, I realized he was there all hours of the day and night. He even chased the cab I called to take me to my doctor’s appointments. I noticed some of the neighborhood kids feeding him, but he just sat stoically as they climbed him and tried to get him to play. The sight of him being so patient with them warms my heart, and I decide to see if he’ll come in so I can at least get him out of the cold tonight.

I don’t bother to put on a cute outfit or a pair of heels. I only plan to see the dog, so I leave my hair in a sloppy ponytail and troop down in an oversized sweatshirt, leggings, and fuzzy slippers. I dare anyone to say something to me today. Besides, I’ll only be outside for a minute or two.

As soon as I open the front door to the building, the dog’s ears perk up, and his tail wags for the first time that I’ve seen since we had our first little walk together. I walk over to him and let him smell my hand, just to make sure he recognizes me. “Hey, boy. Out on your own again? Me, too. I guess you really don’t have anyone looking after you. You’re such a good boy for a dog out on his own. Yes, you are! The best boy.” I catch myself doing the annoying dog talking to him, but I can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind too much, anyway- he’s soaking it in with his eyes blissfully half closed, tail thumping on the ground. I clear my throat and get to my point, not that he knows what I’m saying, anyway. “Do you want to come in out of the cold, boy? I could use someone to snuggle with, and you seem like you could, too.” He hops up once with a soft ruff and walks a circle around me before nudging me back toward the front door of my building. Maybe he understands me, after all.

Once I sneak the dog past the one camera in the lobby and the other tenants who might complain about a huge dog I’m not supposed to have, I let him into my apartment where he immediately jumps next to my favorite spot on the couch. Ordinarily, I would tell him to get down so that he wouldn’t shed, but I just don’t have the energy. I’m feeling a little better just being around him, and he deserves comfort as a reward for that. “Okay, I can’t keep calling you dog or boy. You need a name. How does… Mocha sound?” It would match his coloring. He’s a beautiful chocolate brown, with a lighter tan belly, ears, and socks. He doesn’t seem impressed with my idea though, and heaves a huge sigh before laying his head back down. “Fine, not mocha. Socks?” All I get for that one is a groan before he hides his feet from me. “Aww, don’t be self- conscious! I think they’re very handsome.” I tell him, laughingly. He grins back at me. That might be the first time I’ve truly smiled in a week. I’m so glad I brought him in. “Okay, so we’ll go with a human name…. You know what? I’ll call you Logan, because men are dogs.” The dog- Logan, now- whines but comes to settle as much of his bulk in my lap as will fit.

“Logan it is, bud. I hope you’re a fan of werewolf movies, because I’ve been feeling pretty masochistic lately.” Logan-the-dog heaves another huge sigh before wiggling to get more comfortable in my lap as I press play on the TV. I ignore the dog hair all over my couch and clothes and just pet him as I watch the closest to real werewolves anyone is going to get. His fur is surprisingly soft for how thick it is, and I find myself slipping into the first comfortable sleep I’ve had in more than a week- on my couch, no less.