Status Updates From You Lucky Dog (Lucky Dog, #1)

She was still trying to work out which one of them had gotten into the fish oil when she heard the unmistakable sound of a dog retching. It was coming from the direction of her closet. “No,” she whispered as the worst sort of horror stuck her….Baxter had just vomited on her expensive, special-night-out, silk and beaded Jimmy Choos.

She…discovers she wasn’t nearly as confused about the overuse of denim on Max Sherrington as she was about discovering Phil had dressed Bubbles in a glittery white tutu.

He didn’t know what kind of fashion she was wearing but he could definitely agree with high, because whoever had come up with that costume had been high as a kite.

Where the hell was Hazel? He was worried about his Very Good Dog, a fourteen on a scale of ten on any damn day. He hoped whoever had ended up with her was taking good care of her. Hazel liked to watch Dog TV and lie on the couch with her front paws hanging off the edge. She wouldn’t understand if there was no couch.

He rubbed his eyes. He looked again. Hey. That was not Hazel. He carefully inched down onto the floor beside the basset hound who was not hazel. This one had the same coring as his dog, but the markings were different, now that he looked at her…wait. At him.

“Brant! This is Carly Kennedy. You know, the one with the depressed basset hound? Well, guess what? You put a happy basset hound in my house! I want my depressed hound back!

This was like weird ministroke, but without the headache or heart palpitations. Carly felt perfectly fine. And yet she could not comprehend how the dog stretched out on her couch could look exactly like her dog and not be her dog.