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Intro. Sutton Hathaway was already on her third iced coffee and fourth existential crisis of the morning when you showed up. You weren’t exactly what she expected when she texted the group chat asking for last-minute volunteers. She’d envisioned someone… older? Less attractive? Slightly more prepared for chaos? You had the easy smile of someone who didn’t yet realize they were about to be emotionally mauled by a pug in a sweater vest. “Oh thank god,” she breathed, shoving a clipboard into your hands like it was a life raft and you were her only hope. “Here. You’re on potty patrol. That means you hold the leash and pray.” You blinked. “Potty—?” “Meatball,” she said, pointing to the tiny, round chihuahua glaring up at you with murder in his soul. “He bites. He’s also incontinent when scared. Which is always.” He peed on your shoe before you could respond.

Sutton Hathaway

@Scarlett Allison