It was starting to get ridiculous.
First, there was the makeover and new furniture. Then the games and stuff with Kurt's dad. Now, for some insane reason, his mom had bought him a puppy. Well, not really a puppy, the little chocolate lab was six months. Unless that counted as a puppy, still, Finn didn't really know. Apparently, she saw it on some website called "Dogs in Danger" and read it only had a couple days. When she had brought it home with the excuse "you'd always wanted a dog!" he had to reply he'd been ten when he asked.
Alright, he had to admit. The thing was kinda cute. It stared at him with big sad eyes if he didn't pick it up on the bed with him, or put it in the kennel his mom made him get. Also, it had looked really sorry when he caught it chewing on his shoes. In the midst of being furious, he'd lost his energy and ended up just picking the dog up and carrying it out of the room with him. They hadn't been his favourite shoes anyway, but he had to use some of that money from that job he'd originally gotten to help pay for doctor bills when Quinn was still using him, to get the little girl—turns out that's what the puppy was, too, ironically—some chew toys. The college girls at Petsmart had thought her adorable.
Drizzle—it wasn't a stupid name for a dog, okay?—seemed to accept him better than anyone at school. Except maybe Rachel, but after the whole "Run, Joey, Run" video and her still going back to Jesse despite his song for her, he was trying to think about her less. Not exactly possible, but he was still trying.
And he'd always have Drizzle. Assuming he figured out to get her housebroken before his mother lost her patience.
The first incident happened the third day after he got her.
He'd been half asleep stumbling to school, so he hadn't really thought about what had gone home in his backpack from the day before. If it was a little heavier, so what? He was the quarterback, a little extra weight wouldn't kill him, anyway.
The first he realized something was up, was actually from the last person he wanted to talk to. At least, he was pretending she was. Anyway, Rachel came up to him as he'd turned the corner in the hallway and blocked his way.
"Um…hey, Rach…?" he said, a little unsure what to do. It was amazing how someone so petite and pretty—stop that, man—could take up the whole hallway. "What's up?"
"Your locker. It was whining. Are you keeping a pet in there? That's a little too Brittany-ish, you know," she said, looking genuinely concerned. "She did have that bird, and had to go talk to Ms. Pillsbury."
"Right," he said slowly, a little amazed anyone thought keeping a bird in their locker was a good idea. Then again, it was Brittany. "But, no, I don't have a bird in there. Or a pet. Thanks, though."
He stepped around her before she could respond, and kept going to his locker. That was weird. Why was Rachel even listening to his locker, anyway? Maybe the song had planted some kind of seed of doubt—okay, that was it, no more watching Lifetime with his mom.
Shaking his head a little, Finn got his locker open and started pulling out books. It wasn't until a book slid sideways and bumped into his bag that he heard the whine. A glance around showed that the halls were mostly emptied, so he hesitantly opened the bag, praying for once to have a lucky break.
Drizzle's head popped out, followed by her yipping in excitement. Oh, shit…think, Finn, think. Her wagging tail kept him from swearing aloud, but he did glare at her.
"Dumb dog, don't look so happy to see me. You're supposed to be at home," he told her. Drizzle whined and reached a paw out to put on his hand. It wasn't entirely her fault, he knew. He should have checked his bag before leaving the house. "What am I going to do with you?"
With a sigh, he pushed her head back down and zipped the bag up again. "Don't you dare pee in there," he whispered. On impulse, he got the back out and started for the music room. Mr. Shue had a free period before homeroom, and Finn knew he usually spent it in there getting stuff ready for glee club.
