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Thanks to all the changes throughout the last twenty-six years of her life—and by crow, there were a lot—Pidge enjoyed the few “constants” she had. To list a few: a house—not a shoddy lean-to or apartment she’d been told to expect long before she piloted the Green Lion—one of the top jobs in robotics, but the most important of them all was Shiro.
Takashi Shirogane, retired Black Paladin and her devoted boyfriend of eight years. Both Shiro and Pidge had cold feet: Pidge for getting married, and Shiro’s at night whenever they touched his partner’s legs. Not once did she ever tire of his presence over the last eight years or any time spent together before that. He was the only man who could keep up with her, let alone understand everything she’d gone through and vice versa.
As much as she loved her job, nothing made Pidge happier than the moment she returned home, when Shiro greeted her, showering her with kisses and asking her about her day.
So color her surprised when Shiro was not the first one to greet her with warmth and kisses. In his stead was a small white ball of fluff stumbling over its massive paws, which were too big for the rest of its body.
Pidge practically fell to her knees at the sight. “Aw, hey little guy!”
The puppy yipped and scrambled onto Pidge’s lap. She couldn’t get over how friendly this fluffball was—or just how soft the dog was!
“Shoot, looks like someone beat me to the door.” Shiro stepped into the room wearing a warm smile and his favorite black turtleneck, coated in white hair. It was unlikely he’d trimmed the white section of hair while wearing black. The dog was definitely the culprit.
“Shiro, whose dog is this?”
“Yours.”
Pidge’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He was just messing with her. She hadn’t had a dog since Bae-Bae had been put down at the vet years ago. “I— Shiro, you didn’t!”
“I’ve seen how you look at dogs on our morning walks.”
“Yeah, like a normal person.” Pidge scratched the white fluff ball behind the ear. “Where’d you find this little guy?”
“Little guy?” Chuckling, Shiro settled on the floor, nestling the puppy between him and Pidge. “I adopted her at the shelter.”
Pidge groaned into the puppy’s fur. “Please don’t be that person.”
“What person?”
“The obnoxious dog owner who can’t prevent themselves from correcting someone on their dog’s pronouns. I mean, dogs have no concept of gender as it is. You could call her ‘him,’ and the dog wouldn’t care. I mean, it’s really the tone of voice they respond to anyway, not so much the words you say, save for various commands— and I’m rambling again.”
Shiro didn’t bother to agree or comment further on that observation. (He found her habit more endearing than annoying as it was. Why make her feel bad about it? Besides, he got to hear one of his favorite sounds: her voice.) “Keith was volunteering at the animal shelter, and he called me to come because I had to see this dog. I guess he thought this puppy would be a good fit for us. He said she’s mostly Great Pyrenees. Even the DNA test kit couldn’t figure out what the rest was, apparently.”
That would explain the dog’s enormous, out of proportion paws. “Mostly Great Pyrenees? She’s going to be huge. But at least they’re gentle dogs from what I’ve read. Sounds like the perfect dog for us.” Big enough to Shiro (and her, too—who was she kidding) to love on and cuddle with, and if she took the dog out for a walk, well, with proper training, the dog would not be the one walking her.
Shiro edged closer to Pidge. Funny how he acted more like a dog than the dog did. (How was such a thing possible?) “Do you like her?”
Pidge looked at him as if he’d asked her the stupidest question on earth. “Like her? I love her.”
The dog shared this sentiment, as she slobbered all over Pidge’s face, then decided to share the love with Shiro, too. She jumped into his lap, paws pressed against his chest. He merely laughed and continued petting her. “Aw, there’s a good girl.”
“That’s cute now, but when she’s giant and still jumping on people, it’ll be significantly less cute. Especially if it’s me.”
“Fine.” Shiro sighed and gently pushed the dog off him. “Down, girl,” he said with no force whatsoever.
The dog whined and pawed at him. The guilt on Shiro’s face was unmistakable; he looked like he’d committed a murder. “Sorry, girl.”
“That’s another thing we’ve got to work on with her: a name. Did she have a name?”
“Yeah. I think it was Helga.” Shiro wrinkled his nose. “Or some other name that started with an ‘H’ that was really awful. I figure she’s young enough to learn a new name, but you’re the former dog owner here.” For a moment, Shiro could’ve sworn he saw Pidge’s glasses glint with a diabolical glow.
“There are many types of people,” she said. “Those who cannot own dogs, those who cannot name dogs, and sadly whoever had her first are the third type: those who cannot own or name dogs. Luckily for us, I happen to be the type who can own and can name dogs.”
Shiro opened his mouth to say something about the name “Bae Bae,” but quickly shut it. Pidge still wasn’t fully over losing Bae Bae. She’d lost her father and the family dog a few years ago, and that was a low blow.
“How about Halley?”
He mulled over it for a few seconds. It was a good idea since the dog’s former name started with the same letter and sound, more or less. And if he was right about her reference, he was already a fan. “Like Halley’s comet?”
Pidge shook her head. “Edmond Halley, an English astronomer, geophysicist, mathematician, meteorologist, and physicist. He actually was able to calculate the orbit of that comet.”
“Hence why it’s called Halley’s comet. I wasn’t entirely wrong.”
With a slight shrug of admission (or defeat), Pidge looked to him. “Do you like it?”
A handsome smile spread over Shiro’s face. “Like it? I love it.”
The newly named Halley yawned and curled up in-between Pidge and Shiro, tail still wagging.
She loved it, too.