By Vivian Clausing

Becky pulled on her tights and laced up her running shoes. Outside, the sky was still black, the horizon a pale yellow. Zeke nosed her toward the door. 

“Whoa. Stay.” 

 Zeke turned and flashed blue eyes at her, his tongue pink against grey fur, waiting. Her best friend. She wouldn’t be a runner if Zeke hadn’t dragged her out every morning. Wouldn’t have lost ten pounds so far. Wouldn’t have quit smoking. Or had the courage to post her profile on Hinge. 

“Okay buddy. Let’s go!” 

They ran along the park fence which  encircled the baseball field, Zeke just ahead. Becky did not see the muddy puddle looming at the edge of first base. Squish! Her right shoe disappeared. Wetness crept over her foot.

“I didn’t expect that!” she breathed, coming to a stop. “Ewwww!” 

Zeke turned and jumped joyfully into the puddle. Cold muddy water hit her in the face. He jumped again and brown splatters flew onto her legs.

“Stop!” she admonished. “Come here!”

Zeke rolled on his back, barking.

“Want some help?” A handsome guy with a strong jawline and eyes as blue as Zeke’s jogged up. Becky’s heart skipped. His teeth were a perfect white line in the semi-darkness as he smiled.

“He’s such a goofball!” Becky was laughing now too.

“He’s beautiful.” 

“He’s better when he’s dry.”

‘Aren’t we all?” The guy’s eyes twinkled. Becky blushed. 

“I gotta go home. Obviously.” 

Zeke was at her side now, tail wagging. He swiveled his head between Becky and the stranger.

“I think he likes you.” Becky said, her fingers in Zeke’s fur. She wanted to ask for the guy’s name but that seemed too weird. Instead, she leaned into Zeke. 

“Should we go home Zeke?”

To her surprise, the guy smiled. 

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

*   *   *

Vivian Clausing has directed a program for women transitioning from incarceration, given seated chair massage to the homeless and advocated for youth and the adults who minister to them. She is now retired and happy to be writing almost every day. Her work has appeared in The Bloomin’ Onion and is forthcoming in 10 x 10 Flash Fiction.  A graduate of Stanford’s OWC writing program, she lives in the Bay Area with her husband and four cats.