Dog
They've been married for one year, living together for two and have dated on and off for over eight. At this point in their relationship, Lacey is secure in saying that there aren't any more surprises. She can finish almost all of Danny's sentences, guess what he's going to buy her for her birthday, and their sex is down to a repetitive, though no less spectacular, art form. She's sure in her assertion and comfortable in the predictability of their lives after having such a dramatic adolescence.
That is until she comes home from work one day to be greeted at the front door by a puppy. They don't have a dog, having agreed early on that they aren't pet people, too busy with work to provide the animal with all the attention it deserves.
Lacey stares down at the puppy as she blinks her eyes, trying to clear them of what she perceives to be a hallucination brought on by too little sleep and long hours at the office. The dog doesn't go away; instead it comes closer, wandering around and through her legs as it barks.
"So not a hallucination then," she mutters to herself, lifting her head as she hears Danny's footsteps coming down the hall.
"I can explain," is the first thing he says after taking in her bewildered expression. "One of my coworker's dogs had puppies. They needed to find homes for them all or they would have had to give them to the pound. I couldn't let them put her in the pound. They put dogs to sleep there." He crouches down, petting the puppy on the head when she scampers over to him. "Can you imagine them putting this cutie to sleep?" His eyes are wide, a slight pout on his lips as he asks, using all of the tricks in his arsenal to appease her.
Lacey narrows her eyes at him, too tired to argue. "Fine, but you're doing all the work."
"Of course," he says quickly, putting the dog down to kiss her on the lips. "Nothing will change. I promise. It'll be like she's not even here." Lacey looks at him skeptically, but nods her head, moving to go upstairs. There's a hot shower calling her name.
Just then, the dog chooses that moment to squat and pee on their hardwood floor, bathing her shoes and his socked feet in urine. Staring down in horror, Lacey works to repress her scream of outrage, choosing instead to glare between her husband and the puppy, now padding around in its own piss.
Taking a deep, calming breath and rolling her eyes, Lacey steps out of her shoes, being sure to avoid the stained floor before walking to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. She leaves Danny to clean the mess his dog has left behind.