She had to hurry. Meeting with Rob at six, Zina had only a little time to apply her make-up before rushing off to the restaurant. With their reservations, they’d have time for a leisurely dinner before the movie at nine-fifteen. She’d been looking forward to this ever since last Saturday when he asked her at the party. Quite the catch, the handsomeness of Rob Quast made many of her friends airheaded. She knew several of them would cut off a toe to be with him. Smoothing her CALVIN KLEINS, she hoped he’d appreciate how much trouble she’d gone to for this date. Probably not, guys never believed it took so much time to get ready.

At the kitchen table she checked her phone, saw no new messages, and put the cell into her purse. Before she could zip the bag, she heard the whimper. “Oh no, Aragon. Do you really have to go?” She knew, but had hoped the puppy could wait until her housemate, Heather, got home—about the time Zina sipped the first of the Sauvignon Blanc she’d order. Aragon let out another muffled complaint. He needed out. “All right, let’s go. But be quick. I’ll be late.” She grabbed the leash and attached to his collar. The dog barked in eager anticipation as Zina thought about and rejected the idea of slipping out of the heels for her sneakers.

Knowing the yard would be quicker, Zina directed Aragon out the front door. As she took the first step down, the rain began. Large drops splashed against her freshly coiffed hair and carefully applied cosmetics. Zina winced. At that moment, Aragon lunged forward, and Zina felt the leash slip from her hands and she strained forward to retrieve it.

The next thing she knew she sprawled on the sidewalk with Aragon leaving her behind chasing something. The little dog darted across the street in pursuit of a racing squirrel. “Aragon, come back!” The rain and the increasing wind dampened the command.

Shoeless, she scrambled to rise, only to fall back in pain. Her muscles screamed injury. Pushing herself to a sitting position. Her expensive stilettoes off to the side. The aching ankle swollen. She hoped she only had a sprain. “Fuck!” The sudden shower had caught her unprepared. As the rain slapped against her face, mascara smeared ruining the meticulous effort and all the time in front of the mirror. Zina let loose with a string of profanities which would have shocked her Marine father. Now she might miss—or at best, have to ask him if she could arrive late—her first date with the best looking guy ever to ask her out. And what if she had to go to emergency? Stupid ankle. She reached for her shoes. “Damn it!” The right heel had broken! Her favorite pair—and most expensive—ruined. And it went with the outfit!

As she pushed herself to her knees, she knew she’d have to change into something else. Maybe the short green skirt and flowered blouse? First she had to get Aragon. Hobbling to the curb, she called for him again. As she scanned the park area, a rental truck roared past, hit a spreading puddle, and sprayed a cloud of water over her. “Shit!” She kneeled in the soaking grass, shook an arm in the direction of the disappearing vehicle, and allowed herself to cry. Forcing herself up, she tentatively retested the injury. It wouldn’t take much weight, but she believed it needed only a wrap and not a cast.

Balancing on her left leg, she continued looking over the neighborhood. No sign of the pup. “Aragon. Come home, boy!” Disheartened and soaked, the pelting rain weakened her hopes and she realized he had not yet figured out what “home” meant.

As she reached for her cell, she remembered it sat on the table next to her purse. Now, unless a miracle happened, Zina would have to wrap the ankle, call and ask for a “raincheck”—he would probably never want to go out with her after this—and then hobble out to find her two-month old pet.

Damn squirrel. It had dared Aragon to give chase. When the rains came, the pup had set off in gleeful pursuit of the maddening rodent, who frolicked with laughing tail swishes and chattering chirps near the big oak across the street.

Zina had responded instinctively, swiveling to give chase, forgetting about her heels and best outfit. Rushing had doomed the effort. Her skin stuck to the denim, her shoes unwearable, and her confidence shattered, she wailed for Aragon’s return.

As soon as she got inside, she dialed Rob’s number. Following her worried explanation, he replied, “It would have been fun. I’ll call you, sometime.” He hung up.

“Bastard.” She sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly. “Your loss.” She knew he’d never call again, even though, despite her anger, she wanted him to. He had such great eyes, and would be great as arm-candy. Maybe, he would call?

A shiver brought her back to her living room standing over the little puddle formed by drips from her clothing. Heather would make a stink about ruined carpet and probably blame Aragon. Poor pouch. “Omigod, I gotta find him.” She raised both hands in frustration at her forgetfulness. At that moment she noticed she broken an expensive polished nail. “Shit!”

Twenty minutes later, dressed in old jeans, a tee, a windbreaker, and with her ankle wrapped securely, Zina stepped back outdoors, this time in sensible shoes. As well as she could, she hurried to the street, checked for speeding trucks, and hustled across to the park. Following the path where she last saw the runaway, she kept calling his name, and scanning the area. A scary thought raced through her mind. What if Aragon had gotten hurt, or had died? What if someone puppy-napped him? He looked adorable, and acted so friendly. Who wouldn’t want the little bugger.

Thinking back to the day she got Aragon made the search all the more desperate. Holding him had made her feel almost whole again after the last break-up. Having all but decided she faced a life of loneliness, Aragon had come into her home and lifted her spirits, returning smiles to Zina’s existence. He needed her, and adored her. Almost as much as she needed and adored him. Pets can help like that. He made her happier, more content, which showed in her demeanor and how she acted. Zina believed her improved mood helped get Rob to ask her out.

Which meant if something bad had happened to Aragon, would she spiral downward again? Knowing her patterns, probably. She had to find him! The rains picked up force, and the wind whistled through the wet limbs overhead. Autumn approached, and the hint of leaves changing color could be discerned with proper imagination.

Hair blew across her face, and she felt the dampness of the strands lash onto her cheeks. She had to squint against the increasing force of the storm which insisted she find shelter. But Aragon had to be saved. Or did she need it?

No sign of him. Ahead of her the park restrooms might offer temporary reprieve from the force of the downpour. She hurried to it, slipped on the grass and landed on the lawn ten feet from the latrines. Her whole side felt wet and miserable, her hopes of finding her dog crashing, and her ankle questioned her sanity at being out in this weather.

She half-crawled, half stumbled past curtain of rain cascading off the roof to the shelter of the overhang. Leaning against the brick wall, she shook her head. “Aragon!” Certain her scream would be lost in nature’s assault, but in desperate hope for a miracle, she repeated it.

“Is this Aragon?” A male voice made her jump.

She turned to see someone holding her pup, wrapped in a blue jacket. “Aragon!” She took him into her arms and hugged him, clutching the dog and the jacket close to her chest. Aragon licked her face and nuzzled her. “Omigod! You’re safe.”

“His leash got caught. In the chain-link fence.” The speaker pointed toward the softball fields. “I would have tried to find who he belonged to, but the rains convinced me to wait.” The young man smiled, suggesting what-else-could-I-do?

Hanging tight to her dog, Zina took a moment to look at Aragon’s savior. He stood no more than an inch taller than she. With broad shoulders and a gently rounded paunch, he looked thick and strong. His eyes sparkled even in the shade of the shelter. He reached over to pat the dog’s head. Aragon nuzzled the hand, and gave it a lick.

“Thank you for finding him. I love this puppy.” With her voice shivering in sheer delight, she kissed the fuzzy face of her pet. “You worried me so. Taking off after that awful squirrel and—”

“I lost a dog once. It got hit by a car. Worst day of my life.” His eyes closed for a moment, and he let out a long sigh. “At times like that we feel guilty, responsible. But, dogs like to chase other animals. Their nature.” He shrugged in a happens-to-the-best-of-us way. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I hope not. Stupid me. Hurrying. Had a big date, so in the rushing around . . .  ” Trailing off, she should be eating her entre about now and beginning the second glass of vino.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. He’s okay. You’ll be extra careful from now on, I’m certain.”

“I will be.” She realized Aragon tried to climb toward the young man. She tilted her head. The fellow understood, taking the animal in his arms, and the pup lavished him with doggy kisses. “He likes you a lot, more than most. I thought he only loved me.”

“We got to know each other during the storm.” They looked around, the rain had lightened and the wind had abated. “I work with animals.”

“Where?” She noted he had a warm smile.

“At the Clinic. I’m in the Vet School at RFU. Usually work with horses and cattle, but some with ones this size.” He buried his head in Aragon’s fur.

“That’s great. How’d you decide to do that?” They stood closer now, both showering the happy canine with attention, and he reciprocated with wet tongue and excited saliva. “Isn’t that scary, working with big stallions and—bulls?”

“My great-grandfather had a farm. I loved spending time out in the barns.” He stood taller and his eyes brightened. “Milking and feeding his Holsteins. Made me want to work with them, and be around them. So that’s why.” With a gentle tug he extracted his jacket from around Aragon, and scratched the dog’s ears. “By the way, I’m Ron, Ron Waggoner. Pleased to meet you, Miss . . . ”

“Ohhh.” She brought a hand to cover her mouth and most of reddening cheeks. A fear descended over her. She wondered how bad she must appear. In old clothes, with her hair unbrushed and her face unmade—other than the remnants of her earlier efforts which by now had become muddled and messed—she knew she looked like a slob. “I’m Zina. Nice to meet you.” She nibbled on a knuckle. “Sorry, I must look awful. In a panic, I went out—”

“Don’t feel bad, I’m in wet clothes, too.” She tried to interrupt him, but he held up a finger. “You’ve got a great dog, and that says volumes about what a good person you are. No reason to apologize.” As her eyes widened, Aragon gave a happy bark, glancing from one to the other. “I think you look fine, and have beautiful eyes.”

Surprised by the compliments, her gaping mouth received a generous slurp from the dog, who took turns licking the two faces. “But, I do clean up really well. I do.”

“I believe you.” He nodded. He held his hand out to see if the rain had ended. “It’s stopped. How about, you and me, and Aragon, going to get pizza? I know the owner, he won’t mind a Shitzu.”

“Like this?” Zina had a thousand alibis competing for her tongue, but held them under wrap when she heard his reply.

“Like this. Just the way we are.”

The end