"I thought she was housebroken." Roc just stood there, immobile for about a minute, then turned to me as if I would instantly know what to do, and of course, clean up the mess.
"I think she is." I shrugged. I figured it was a case of the nerves.
The next day, I kept her home with me and we got to know the house and the neighborhood. I'm sure I had a ridiculous smile on my face all day long.
The day after, I stopped by Roc's business and introduced her to the whole family, as well as the other employees. She was an instant hit. My mother-in-law, who is not outwardly emotional, was completely taken with her "grand-dog-ter." We got into a little routine: whatever day I was busiest, Roc would take her into work and she would spend the day at the shop, greeting customers, running around safely inside, and of course, spreading joy everywhere she tread.
She was the Rock Star of the Avenue.
I think she was especially good for Roc, because as the days rolled by, his anxiety was ramping up about re-entering the Academy. It was nothing he would admit to; but it was in the unspoken things that I began to see the internal struggle come back to the forefront.
I said a lot of prayers during that time, and my long walks with the dog became even longer.