“But you need to to get him to drink fluids so he doesn’t become dehydrated,” she said. “And keep watch on him tonight. If the shaking gets worse, bring him in.”

“Got it,” I said, looking over at Bertie. “Thank you.”

“Thanks a lot,” Clark said, leaning forward slightly to reach the phone. Ashley said good-bye, and a moment later, hung up. And then it was just me and Clark and the sudden silence that filled the room now that Ashley was no longer telling us what to do. “So,” Clark said, looking at the dog, then back at me. “Now what?”

? ? ?

Since it seemed like Bertie wanted to be in the laundry room, we got settled in there. Clark went to clean up the kitchen, and though I offered to help, I was secretly glad when he insisted on doing it himself. Not only was I not thrilled with the idea of cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, but after talking to Ashley, I really didn’t want to leave Bertie alone. While on one hand I was relieved that he didn’t seem to be in any serious, immediate danger, the fact that he had come so close to it was terrifying. As was the fact that Clark and I were the ones responsible for making sure he stayed out of it.

Bertie tried to kick the blanket off, and I took it off of him, running my hand over his back. I set it down just to the side of him, in case we needed to have it on hand. I was about to call to Clark, to see if he could bring out Bertie’s water dish, when my phone rang.

The caller ID read MAYA, and I picked up immediately. “Hi,” I said, beyond relieved to hear from her. Maybe she and Dave were on their way over, and they could take over the dog night watch. I knew neither of them were vets, but they had way more experience with dogs than Clark and I had combined.

“Hi!” Maya said, and I could hear she sounded like she did when she was trying to wrangle her pack of dogs away from an aggressive barker—stressed, but trying to hide it with cheerfulness. “I’m so glad you picked up. I just heard from Clark. It sounds like he’s having a problem with Bertie—”

“Yeah,” I said, cutting her off before she could tell me what I already knew. “He called me. I’m over there now.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Told you,” I heard another voice say—after a moment I realized it was Dave. I’d only met him once, when I had gone to their tiny office to drop off my tax and payroll forms. I’d expected the male version of Maya—tattoos, cheerfulness, dyed hair—and had met someone who looked like he could have been an investment banker, except for the spare leashes clipped to his belt with a carabiner. “I knew Andie would have this under control. Hi, Andie.”

“Hi, Dave,” I said, realizing that I must be on speaker in a car—I could hear both of them clearly, as well as the occasional car horn passing by.

“What’s the situation?” Maya asked.

I took a breath and filled them in, ending with what Ashley had told us—that someone needed to sit up with Bertie all night. “So . . . ,” I said when I’d finished, waiting for either one of them to jump in and tell me they were on their way, that I could go home.

“Here’s the thing,” Maya said. “We’re up in New Hampshire, visiting Dave’s mother, who hates me—”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Dave interrupted, and I could hear a sigh somewhere in his voice, like they’d had this discussion a few times before. “She just doesn’t understand the tattoos. I did suggest that maybe you could have worn a cardigan.”

“Anyway,” Maya went on, more loudly than before, “we weren’t planning to leave until tomorrow. And even if we left now—”

“Which would really not go over well,” Dave muttered.

“We couldn’t get there for four hours. So . . .” Now it was Maya’s turn to trail off, and I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was asking.

“I can stay,” I said, after only the slightest hesitation. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave Clark alone with Bertie without worrying the whole time that something had happened to him. And if Maya and Dave weren’t going to be here, I seemed to be the only option.

“Oh, thank you,” Maya said, relieved. “Andie, you’re the best. I’ll make sure you get overtime for this.”

“It’s okay,” I said, glancing over at the dog and rubbing his ears. I could sit here tonight with Bertie. It wouldn’t be that bad.

“And you and Clark get along, right?” Maya said, not really asking it like a question. “So you guys will be okay.”

“Well . . . ,” I started, then realized that Maya and Dave (and whoever else might be in the car with them) didn’t really need to know that we’d just had a disastrous date. “Sure,” I finally said. “It’s fine.”

“And I’ll keep my cell on all night,” she said. “So call anytime. Even if it’s four a.m.”

“Wait, what?” I heard Dave ask sharply.

“Are you walking anyone tomorrow?” Maya continued over him.

“Just one walk. Clyde, Sheriff, and Coco.”

“I’ll get it covered for you so you can sleep,” Maya said. “And thank you again. Call if there’s a problem!”

“I will,” I said, as Dave and Maya both shouted good-byes over increasing static. “Bye,” I replied, but I wasn’t sure they could still hear me, and a moment later I heard the dial tone in my ear.