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Tommy didn’t know when exactly Bean’s birthday was. He had taken the dog in when Bean was two years old, and was just told ‘oh, his birthday is in January.’ And since Tommy picked the little wiener dog up on January 9th well…
It was pretty self-explanatory.
Tommy celebrated Bean's birthday on January 9th.
Bean was going to be turning five this year.
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It was no surprise to anyone that Tommy liked to spoil Bean. And really, it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone.
Other than his boyfriend, who Tommy also spoiled, he was a man in his forties with a very well paying job and no children. Despite California’s very high cost of living, sometimes he had more money than he knew what to responsibly do with.
So he spoiled his dog.
The only problem with spoiling Bean, was that Bean was very picky… and very hard to spoil.
Most dog toys were too big for him to pick up in his mouth, and the ones that were small enough for him to pick up, half the time Bean paid no attention to them. Tommy didn’t want to know how much money he had spent on toys that Bean ignored because they were small but had no squeaker. He hoped the other dogs at the animal shelter liked them.
Then there were the dog treats. If they weren’t either meat flavored, Bean would also ignore them. Even when Tommy tried stuffing the mini Kong full of peanut butter, Bean sniffed it only to walk across the room. Last year Tommy had bought those little specialty doggy cupcakes for Bean’s birthday, only for Bean to ignore those as well.
Tommy supposed if he lived in a cold climate, especially with this time of the year, he could buy a new sweater or jacket for Bean, but with the lows being in the upper forties still, Tommy didn’t think they would be very useful.
Truthfully though, the only person Tommy knew who could pick out good presents for the dog was Tommy’s mom. Bean loved all of the presents Tommy’s mom sent him. Maybe it was his mom’s scent on them or something, he didn’t know, because when Tommy bought nearly identical toys at Target for Bean, Bean didn’t want anything to do with them.
But the presents she had mailed over for Christmas Tommy had already given to Bean, and Tommy didn’t want to make it a big thing. Because the worst part about Bean's birthday was that it was right after Christmas. So after trying to think of Christmas gifts for his dog for months, he needed to turn right back around and come up with a birthday gift.
Which again left Tommy in a conundrum. What should he do for Bean’s birthday this year?
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Buck hummed as he walked up behind Tommy as he stood at his kitchen counter. “What’s that look on your face for?” he asked.
Tommy turned his head to look at Buck. “What look?” he asked.
“You look conflicted about something,” Buck said. “Like you need to make a decision and don’t know what to do.”
Tommy chewed his lip as he thought of a way to word what he was going to say. “Bean’s birthday is next week,” Tommy said. “I haven’t figured out what to get him.”
Buck’s eyes widened as he took in what Tommy had just said. “His birthday is next week?” Buck asked. He walked around Tommy’s kitchen to look over at the dog sleeping on his dog bed in the living room. “Your birthday is next week?” Buck asked.
Buck merely let out another snore as he kept his donut position sleeping in the dog bed, only reacting to people who were in the same room as him.
“Yeah,” Tommy said, setting a dirty glass into the kitchen sink, telling himself he would clean it later. “His birthday is next week, and I don’t know what to get for him.”
Buck hummed as he thought. “Did he like those treats I made him last month?” Buck asked as he referred to the candy cane shaped dog biscuits he made on Christmas Eve. Tommy was silent long enough for Buck to turn back to look at him. “Did he?”
“N- Not really,” Tommy said.
Buck’s mouth hung open. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Tommy said. “You worked so hard at making them.”
Buck looked back at Bean and hummed. “What kind of treats does Bean like again?” he asked.
“Anything with meat,” Tommy said. “Actually meat though, not meat flavored stuff.”
A couple days later, Tommy ended up stopping by a butcher shop to buy a large beef bone, one that he knew would take hours for Bean to finish. He had them cut it up though, he didn’t want raw meat sitting around his house for hours and for Bean to hide to bone in his bed. Hell, that was probably why he didn’t do this all too often for Bean. It made… kind of a big mess.
Tommy also went by the pet store, again, because even though Bean didn’t like the toys Tommy got for him, that didn’t mean Tommy wasn’t going to get the dog a toy. Because what messed up dog owners didn’t get their dogs a toy for their birthday? Not the good ones.
Tommy looked over the racks of dog toys of various sizes, bypassing the ones that would obviously be too large for the dog’s little mouth and paws, and focusing in on the ones that had little squeakers. He found a three pack of little plush ducks. They looked cute, and they were certainly better than the assortment of leftover Christmas dog toys.
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Tommy and Buck ended up meeting again the day before Bean’s birthday. Buck had set a small box on the counter in front of Tommy when he walked into his house.
“What’s that?” Tommy asked.
“For Bean, his birthday,” Buck said. Tommy lifted an eyebrow as he took the box and opened it up. Inside looked to hold some sort of dog friendly cake, with pieces of dried bacon on top. “It has real meat,” Buck said. “So he should like it, right?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. Then he passed it back into Buck’s hands. “You should give it to him.”
“What? But his birthday isn’t until tomorrow though,” Buck protested.
“And you’ll be working tomorrow,” Tommy said as he turned Buck’s shoulder to the direction where Bean was sleeping in the living room. The dog slept a lot.
“And don’t worry,” Tommy said. “I have other gifts to give him tomorrow, he can have this one early.”
“Okay,” Buck said as he walked over to the dog and squatted down next to him. Bean lifted his head up to look at him and Tommy could see the dog began to wag his tail.
Buck set the box with the cake on the floor in front of the dog. “Okay, Bean. Here we got an early birthday cake for you…”
As Buck spoke to the dog, Bean stood up and walked a couple steps closer to give the cake a sniff. When Buck sat back Bean very carefully picked the pieces of dried bacon off.
“You know… I’ve never seen a dog be so picky,” Buck said around a laugh.
“Me either,” Tommy said from where he watched the two.