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There was something very wrong with Anya, Ilya was sure.
Sure, they were on week two of a road trip, so they’d been apart for over 11 long, long days. The doggie hotel Anya stayed at while him and Shane were on the road was excellent - 5 stars on Google reviews, not a single complaint on Yelp and all the references they gave Ilya (he called all five people on the list, and went back to one with follow-up questions) were glowing — but they didn’t know Anya like he did.
There was something wrong.
When she play-wrestled with her pug boyfriend (Ilya wished she’d gone with a prettier bf, but pickers couldn’t be choosers), she didn’t give it her all. When the afternoon trainer, Nathan, came to give her a treat, she pranced over to him, but didn’t run. Nathan was a good guy — which Ilya knew on account of running a background check on every single individual affiliated with the Bark Bed-and-Breakfast — but he didn’t inspire joy in Anya.
This was a problem. This was an enormous, earth-shattering problem.
Trouble was, Ilya was the only one taking this seriously.
Before the game against San Francisco, he’d triple-checked the live cam from the hotel before getting on the ice. Anya was sleeping, even though it was 7:05pm. When she was home, with her daddies, Anya typically performed what Shane dubbed “worship time” at 7pm, where she ran around and played and barked for pets, and Ilya chased her around. Every time he captured her, after a couple pets, she ran away, only to repeat the performance once he caught her again.
So, it made no sense that Anya was sleeping. It was worship time!
Ilya almost texted Nathan, but the very nice receptionist Alice politely asked Shane the last time he picked up Anya that, just maybe, he could talk to his husband about appropriate texts to send the Bark Bed-and-Breakfast staff? So Ilya did not contact Nathan, but he glowered.
Shane was tucked underneath Ilya’s arm in the hotel bed, half-asleep. “Stop watching that livestream,” Shane said blearily. The words sounded slurred because of the way his mouth was half-smashed against Ilya’s bare chest.
“No, no,” Ilya said. “Shane, I am really worried.”
Shane groaned.
Ilya flicked away from the live cam and pulled up his text messages with Yuna.
Shane groaned again. “Ilya, plea—“
Ilya was already typing. Hi, Yuna. Anya is not enjoying dog hotel. Is there any chance you could pretty please take her this weekend? We are back Monday noon.
“It’s late,” Shane said. “They’re probably in bed.”
Yuna responded less than thirty seconds later. Sure thing, hun. I can pick her up Friday after work?
You are the best xo, Ilya typed back. Shane was asleep again, or at least pretending to be.
Not as good as you boys on the ice tonight! Heading to bed soon. Call tomorrow, ok?
Goodnight Yuna, Ilya responded, and then thunked the phone on Shane’s shoulder.
“She’s really fine, Ilya,” Shane muttered.
“No,” Ilya said. “I do not like this. Only the best for moy malen'kiy kheruvim.”
Shane scrunched his nose; Ilya couldn’t see it, but felt the tell-tale movement of Shane’s cheek and nose against Ilya’s chest. “My little…” He paused. “I don’t think I know that one.”
Ilya planted a kiss on the top of Shane’s head, but didn’t respond.
***
There was absolutely nothing wrong with Anya, Shane was sure.
Seriously, he had an eye for that kind of thing, at least for dogs. People were hard to read, but dogs weren’t. Once he’d realized that, he warmed up faster to the idea of Anya than he’d initially thought he could. And now, after a solid three years of being her dada, Shane was just as obsessed as Ilya. They loved her in different and all-encompassing ways, sure, and Ilya would always be the most expressive between them too, but Shane cared about Anya’s wellbeing greatly.
So when he said that he was sure there was nothing wrong with Anya, Shane really did mean it. He wasn’t just consoling Ilya while awaiting something bad. He truly knew nothing was wrong with her. Of course, she missed them, like they missed her. Anya was a spoiled, spoiled girl who was receiving good care by mostly strangers, instead of downright devoted care from her two dads. Of course she wasn’t chipper.
But no, Ilya was convinced she was dying. Which was ruining the vibe. He could have been having hot sex with his hot husband in a hotel room like before, which was hot. Instead, Ilya was fretting. Which wasn’t very hot.
And people really called Shane the anxious one, between the two. Shane wanted to chuckle, but shoved it down before the sound could emerge. He didn’t need Ilya mad at him for not taking this crisis seriously, on top of the rest of his anxiety. Because Shane was not always the anxious one!
His point was only further proven on Monday. The team plane landed at noon after a string of back-to-back victories, and Shane was really, truly feeling amazing. Ilya, however, was not. He’d been spending a lot of time the last few days on the pet version of WebMD and had diagnosed Anya with a series of diseases ranging from kennel cough to stage 4 cancer.
Seven points in the last three games, he’d had. And instead of celebrating that achievement, the pure proof of indisputable talent, Ilya was wondering aloud about dog-safe medications and whether Anya might prefer a pill or liquid version.
And no, they hadn’t been having sex either, which was a sign of real emotional distress in Ilya.
Usually Anya was the cock block. Shane actually couldn’t remember Ilya not being down for sex, like, ever. In retrospect, Anya was really kind of ruining Shane’s sex life. She was lucky he liked her so much.
They’d cleared customs in Chicago, so it was a quick walk from the plane to Shane’s car. It was snowing the day they left, so Shane’s reliable SUV won out over Ilya’s sports car. Shane expected Ilya to fall asleep during the drive — it was a good 25 minutes, and Ilya hadn’t slept well for days — but instead he sat upright and alert. He clenched his phone in one hand and kept squeezing it, until his knuckles turned white.
By the time Shane drove them into his parent’s neighborhood, Ilya radiated so much stress that Shane finally said, “let’s take her to the vet.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yeah. I mean, I still don’t think anything is wrong, but this is really freaking you out. Let’s just take her for peace of mind, okay?”
“Yes,” Ilya said. “I think that is good idea.”
Anya was delighted to see them, returning immediately to her old self. By the time they could see the vet, three days later, it was like nothing had ever happened.
The vet and Shane waited patiently while NHL superstar, known tough guy Ilya Rozanov, told the vet in great detail about every concern he had with their little sweetheart: ran, not sprinted, towards treats! When her Dads awoke her for a walk, instead of the door, she put her head back down! When Grandma Yuna picks her up from daycare, she jumps up and whines but doesn’t bark!
“Hm,” the vet said, when Ilya was finally finished. “I have to say Ilya, this sounds like the normal maturation of a puppy to an adult dog.”
Ilya stepped back like he’d been punched. “Oh Anya, do not listen to him! You are my baby forever!”
“It’s just that none of what you’re describing is worrisome at all in a healthy dog of this age. It sounds like Anya has a great life.”
Ilya hung his head the entire way home. Finally, mournfully, when Shane pulled the car into the driveway, he said: “I guess Anya is not our little girl anymore.”
Shane put the car in park. “Can’t imagine how you’d be with a human kid, if Anya has you this tied up.”
Ilya shook his head. “Oh, I cannot even imagine.”
***
Their new evening routine is this: Fluff Anya’s pillows. Refill her food and water bowls. Freshen up. Lock themselves in the bedroom for anywhere between 10 minutes and two hours. Quick second fresh up, if required. Shane tries to sleep while Ilya researches all the ways dogs can die.
Shane’s initial rule about Anya not sleeping in bed with them was happily disregarded at least half the time, but now it was entirely out the window. If she got much bigger, they worried sometimes, they’d have to get an even larger bed.
But now all three of them squeezed in together, nestled in the sheets, while Anya slept happily and peacefully. Shane tried to sleep despite Ilya emitting anxious energy, and Ilya googled all the hidden dangers in ones house that could potentially harm ones pet. (First on the list: Negative emotions within the family structure. Ilya did not think that was very funny.)
So in Ilya’s defense, it was really late, and he was worked up. Susceptible to the very worst of the internet ads.
So, Skye looked very nice and mysterious on her website. She was something called a ‘pet psychic’, who were apparently people who could read animals minds.
Ilya wasn’t stupid enough to believe in that shit. Obviously.
He was obviously not interested when he clicked over to her pricing page. A single video call was only $75.
Ilya chuckled and added to cart.
“What’d you laughing at?” Shane said, half asleep.
“Oh, nothing.”
“No, what? That was your trouble giggle.”
“I am Russian, we do not giggle.”
“That sound you made was a giggle.”
“Prove it,” Ilya said, leaning to kiss Shane.
“Trouble,” Shane repeated.
Ilya sighed. “Can I have no secrets at all with you?”
“No,” Shane said, a little smug. Ilya loved him so much. “No secrets allowed. What?”
“I have sorted answer to our problem.”
“What problem?” Shane said, a little blearily, not worried at all. Once, many many years ago, the mere whisper of a could-be problem busted them apart entirely. And now, the concept of a problem was naught, because they’d handle it together. No trouble.
“I found a very nice pet psychic.”
Shane blinked. Well, he hadn’t expected that. He sat up against the headboard.
“What?”
Ilya reached out to smooth Shane’s bed head, then booped his cute little nose.
“I found nice lady on the internet who, how do you say, reads minds? Mind reader? I don’t know. But we will have nice video call with her next week. She will see Anya and she will be able to read her little brain. And tell us why my sweet angle Babushka is not my very happy girl anymore.”
Shane sat with that for a moment, silent. Ilya was fighting another giggle, he could tell.
“Okay,” Shane finally said. “Sure, why not.” He patted Ilya’s cheek indulgently, scratched Anya’s head, and then threw himself back down on the bed and under the covers.
“Really?” Ilya said to the back of Shane’s head. “You have nothing to say? Not a single protest.”
“No.”
“So you do agree with me!” Ilya said triumphantly. “There is something—“
Shane groaned and rolled over onto his back, glaring at Ilya. “There is nothing wrong with our dog. She is fine. If you need a scammer pet psychic to tell you that, fine. I’ll take it happily at this point.”
Ilya’s brows furrowed. He didn’t speak for a moment, then said, “you know Shane, it hurts Anya’s feelings when you call her a dog.”
Shane fixed Ilya with his scariest glare, which made Ilya laugh, and turned out the lights.
***
A week later, Ilya prepared for the pet psychic like someone going to war.
First things first, he got them all arranged at the kitchen island: the laptop carefully placed between two stools, one for Shane and one for Ilya, with Anya’s dog bed between them. It wasn’t until he was admiring his handiwork that Shane asked how Skye was supposed to see Anya if she was on the floor.
Looking so distressed that Shane offered to help him, Ilya migrated over to the living room. Shane propped up the laptop on the coffee table, and he and Ilya sat on the floor with their backs against the side of the couch, Anya between them, looking happy as a clam.
“You think this will be like therapy, maybe?” Ilya said.
“Uh, no. Probably not.”
Ilya wrung his hands together. “I am nervous. What if Anya is not happy with us? Maybe she would be happier in a bigger house with a bigger yard. Like Barrett and Harris’, maybe we should talk to a realtor.”
Shane sighed, and on the laptop screen, the Zoom waiting screen turned into the smiling face of Skye, pet psychic.
“Hello Ilya, hello Shane,” Skye greeted them. Ilya mumbled a nervous hello, so pitiful that Shane spoke up.
“Hey, Skye. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise! And where is Miss Anya?” She asked cheerfully.
Anya, who’d been curled up on the floor with her tail wagging in Shane’s lap while her chin rested on Ilya’s knee, raised her head at the sound of her name.
“There’s the good girl!” Skye cooed, and Anya glanced at the screen, panting happily.
“Oh, what a happy little thing,” Skye added. “Ilya, you said in your initial form request that you wanted a guided session - is that still okay? Usually I’ll get the vibe of the pet, and then go from there, letting them direct us. How’s that sound?”
“Very good, thank you,” Ilya squeaked.
“Okay, great. You mentioned that Anya was a little off, lately?”
“She’s really not,” Shane said flatly, while Ilya nodded vigorously. Shane cocked an eyebrow at Ilya. “He’s convinced she is, but she was just missing us during a recent road trip. We, uh, travel a lot for work.”
“I know,” Skye said evenly. “I live in Alberta, so I’m no stranger to hockey.”
“Oh, right, cool,” Shane said. Anya rested her chin on the side of the coffee table, blinking.
“Well, let’s take a look into Anya’s pretty little head, shall we?” Skye said, cheerfully. Ilya looked like he was being walked to his execution.
Skye fell silent for a few moments. “She definitely does miss you when she’s at the dog hotel, but she does seem to like it. There’s, er, hmm… a waterfall? Yes, there’s a waterfall at the dog hotel that she really loves. She goes to the waterfall to be pampered, and she always likes how she smells after.”
“The spa?” Ilya asked. “There’s no waterfall at the doggie spa, though.”
“Hm, it’s where she says she goes to get clean.”
Shane laughed. “It’s probably the bath. Remember how she is at the cottage and the lake? And that little waterfall? She probably thinks water and getting clean is a waterfall.”
“Oh, Anya,” Ilya said lovingly, scratching her forehead. “That is so cute!”
“She’d like the hotel if she got to go to the spa more often, I think.”
Ilya pulled out a little notebook he’d kept in his pocket and made note of Anya’s request.
“Ok. More spa time for my girl. What else?”
“She likes the spa but she likes staying with her grandma and grandpa the most. She loves their backyard and —“ Skye laughed — “the family photos everywhere. She says grandma likes to hang up photos of both of her dads, but she wishes she was in more of them.”
“Yuna, Yuna,” Ilya tsked. “Okay, easy fix. I will print out more photos to hang.”
“But she does prefer staying there,” Skye added. “It’s like being at home, or as close as she can get. She’d like it even more if they had a bigger fireplace, though.”
Shane groaned as Ilya jotted that down. “We’re not renovating my parents’ house, Ilya—“
“We will discuss later,” Ilya shushed him. “Does she think anything else about when we are gone?”
Skye nodded solemnly. “She would like more treats, when you get back. She sees you two buy each other gifts when you travel solo, and thinks she should get them as well.”
“Of course!” Ilya cried. “Oh no, Anya.” He kissed her forehead repeatedly. “I am sorry my little lady. Of course we will buy you more gifts!”
“She specifically wants a, um, apple?”
“An apple?” Shane said. “I don’t think dogs can eat—“
“Her friend the big black lab who lives on a farm has an apple, and she wants one,” Skye said. “She’s very sure of this.”
“I will text Harris and Barrett,” Ilya said. “They are the owners of Anya’s good friend Chiron. Maybe they have apple dog toy?”
“Oh!” Skye said. “Yes, it’s a squeaky apple dog toy. And the handsome man whose lap she likes to sit on puts peanut butter inside it?”
“Handsome man?” Ilya repeated. “Handsome man?”
Shane laughed. “Barrett is going to love this.”
Ilya shook his head. “Okay. Enough about apples. We will get you the apple toy, sweetheart. Is there anything else Anya wants that she doesn’t have?”
“She wants to ride on a big boat,” Skye said confidently.
“What kind of big boat?” Shane asked, suspiciously.
“Like, a cruise, maybe. A yacht?” She paused. “Yes, a yacht, but she wants to go very fast on it.”
Shane fixed Ilya with a glare. “It’s because of all those stupid cruise vloggers you watch on YouTube. It’s getting to her!”
Ilya ignored him, thrilled that his daughter was a speed demon, just like her papa.
“Okay, so we will take her on yacht next summer,” Ilya said, writing it in his notepad.
“This is getting expensive,” Shane said under his breath.
“Oh, that’s another thing,” Skye said. “Sometimes she worries about, um—“ she laughed a little — “money? She is worried you, uh, might have financial troubles.”
“What?” Ilya said, dumbfounded, and Shane giggled.
“Anya, babygirl, your daddies are some of the highest paid athletes alive,” Ilya said. He patted her head mournfully.
“Where did she get the idea we were having money trouble?” Shane said, fighting to keep a straight face.
“Um, she seems to think it’s because of you, Shane. You didn’t let Ilya buy something recently?”
Ilya swiveled his head around to meet Shane’s gaze with a glare. “I fucking told you! Anya wanted the orange fucking sports car and you said no, no, no.”
“Ilya, it was $250,000 and would sit in our garage for 10 months out of the year.”
“And now Anya thinks we live in poverty! She is stressed because she thinks she’s going to be out on the streets again! Oh no, my Ptichka. You will never be out on the street again! And if you are, we will be with you!”
“She also wants more dedicated play time, I think,” Skye said. “She loves going on runs and long walks with you guys, but she wishes there was just a little bit more time for pure play every day. She particularly likes tugging on a rope, so maybe look into getting her some new rope toys?”
Ilya jotted this down. “Yes, of course. Can do. What else?”
Skye smothered a smile. “She understands that her dads need private time in the room with the big bed, but it hurts her feelings when you don’t let her in to sleep overnight.” She paused. “I hear this one a lot. Dogs always want to sleep with you.”
Ilya shook his head. “We will never lock her out again.”
“It’s a bad habit, Il—“ Shane started.
Ilya raised his hand to stop Shane. “I do not want to hear it, Shane. What Anya wants, Anya gets.”
“Similarly, she really likes her kibble, but she thinks you guys could step it up when it comes to the toppers. When she goes to the house with the apples, they give her the kibble with… gravy, and she really likes it.”
Ilya jotted this down as well. “Wonderful. Can do.”
“But overall, she’s a really happy dog. She loves you guys and … hm.”
“What?” Ilya asked, a little frantically.
“She loves you guys and is happiest when you bring her a silver bowl? Does that mean anything to you? I’m not getting much more beyond that description.“
Shane started to laugh. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Ilya said. “What silver bowl?” He turned his face towards the kitchen, as if a miraculous silver bowl might have appeared on the counter.
“No,” Shane said, still laughing. “Last summer, remember? We let her drink out of the Stanley Cup.”
Skye laughed, but Ilya just nodded seriously, and planted a kiss on top of Anya’s head.
“Okay, then, my sweet girl. I will win you another Cup this year.” And then, low enough that Shane couldn’t hear it, he whispered, “And next time, I’ll let you eat your kibble and gravy out of it.”
Anya barked happily at that. They said goodbye to Skye shortly afterwards, and Shane shut the laptop with a smirk.
“Feel better?” Shane asked.
Ilya nodded seriously. “Oh, yes.”
“I feel like that was a scam by Big Pet to get us to spend more money on her,” Shane said fondly. “That lady just gave us, like, a list of crap to buy.”
“None of that was crap,” Ilya said, inspecting his list.
“You still can’t buy that sports car.”
“Anya needs it, Shane.”
Shane tried to look condescending, but failed, and giggled instead. He leaned over Anya to kiss Ilya’s forehead quickly, then went to stand. Anya jumped up too.
“Want a treat, my spoiled princess?” Ilya said. “Give her one of the good ones, Shane. She deserves it.”
Shane shook his head, but Anya got her favorite treat. And eight months later, she got another: her special kibble, topped with her favorite gravy (recommended by Harris himself), and she got to eat it out of her silver bowl. Anya wasn’t sure if she or her dads were happier about that.