We barely made it outside before Muffy squatted next to a bush and made the nastiest mess I had ever seen. Talk about false advertising. They forget to mention that part of pet ownership in the dog food commercials.

“Feel better?” I asked Muffy in a baby voice. “I promise to take good care of you in the five days I have left.” It was then I realized in five days I wouldn't be around to take care of her. I’d been a pet owner for less than an hour and I was already failing miserably.

“What do you mean you only have five days left?”

I whipped my head around to see Joe a few feet away.

Crappy doodles.

He looked angry. Not just angry, menacing.

“Where you goin’ in five days, Rose?”

“Nowhere. Not that it’s any of your business, Joe McAllister.”

He heaved a sigh and kicked a piece of gravel. “You’re right, of course. What you do is none of my business.” Then he stood next to me, whispering in my ear. “You seem like a nice girl, Rose, I hate to see you mixed up in something really messy.”

His breath sent chills down my back, all the way to my toes. How could this man do this to me? What on earth was he talking about? Then I realized he was looking toward the dog and the huge pile she just made.

“I admit it was kind of impulsive to get into such a commitment, but I think I can handle it.”

Joe stepped away, his eyes wide open, like he’d stepped into a pit of rattlesnakes. “So you admit you’re involved?”

“Well, yeah. The evidence is right in front of you.” I tugged on Muffy’s belt. “Come on, Muffy. Let’s go in the back.” I yanked and pulled and ended up dragging her to the backyard. Unfortunately, Joe followed me.

“What are you thinking, Rose? Do you realize what kind of trouble you’ve got yourself into?”

“Joe, seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Lots of people do it.”

He raised his hands to his head and groaned, spinning around in frustration. He stopped and looked more serious than I had ever seen him, even more than the night Momma was murdered. “I’ve got to get you out of this. Maybe it’s not too late.”

I huffed and stamped my foot. “You seriously think I can’t handle a dog? Do I appear that irresponsible?”

Joe turned as pale as a ghost and I expected him to fold up and float away any minute. “A dog?” he choked out. “You’re talking about a dog?”

“I know dogs are lots of trouble but I’ve always wanted one and I figured, why not? I’m a grown woman.”

Joe looked torn between guilt and relief.

I cocked my head to the side and studied him. “Wait, what were you talkin’ about?”

An ornery grin lifted one corner of his mouth as he lifted an eyebrow and darted his eyes toward Muffy. “You call that thing a dog? Looks like a ginormous rat to me.” And what on earth do you have around that poor creature’s gut?”

I took offense to him insulting my dog and put my hand on my hip, glaring. “First of all, she is not a rat; she is a dog. Granted she’s not some pedigreed foofoo dog, but she’s my dog. And second, it all happened so fast, I didn't have time to get her any supplies, so I put a belt around her to bring her out. I was afraid she’s run away.”

“Why’s it around her stomach and not her neck?”

“I was worried I’d choke her.”

Joe snickered. “That is the ugliest dog I have ever seen.”

“You hush! Muffy can hear you!”

“Muffy?”

“Yes, Muffy. And quit insulting her. She has a very delicate temperament.” I lifted my chin to show my distain. At that moment, Muffy squatted and let out the loudest fart I had ever heard, accompanied by the nastiest and worst smelling pile I had ever experienced. The reek of it filled the space around us and I couldn’t help fanning in front of my nose. Traitor.

Joe started belly laughing, leaning over his legs.

I was getting angrier by the minute. “What’s so funny?”

“Your delicate dog.” He said in bursts of laughter.

“Come on, Muffy, we don’t have to take this.” I gave the belt a tug and Muffy farted again.

I thought Joe was going to fall over. I wished he would so I could kick him. Afraid to pull on her again, I gave her a tug anyway and the air filled with stench.

Joe gasped for breath. “You should put her on one of those shows like World’s Amazing Pets. Muffy will make you a fortune.”

I couldn’t help but smile. It was kind of funny. “So Muffy has a flatulence problem. I’ll just put her on a high fiber diet.”

I started giggling then, and we sat on the lawn, both of us laughing together in my backyard. It felt so good to share something funny with someone. I wanted lots of laughter to fill my last five days, but the thought of it suddenly sobered me.

There was always the chance it wouldn't come true, like the last vision of my death. But I knew that was a fluke. The majority of my visions came true. And since I had no idea how to change it, I had to accept it for what it was.

“Hey, ” I said, realizing Joe had distracted me. “If you weren’t talkin’ about Muffy earlier, what were you talkin’ about?”

His smile disappeared. He hesitated before he asked, “Who said I wasn’t talkin’ about Muffy?”

I shot him a nasty look. “I’m not an idiot, Joe.”