Love Birds?

Praise for
Pups
in Teacups
…

"This wonderful book had me roaring in
laughter, crying (at moments) and remembering all of the tiny babies our family
has owned over the years. If you enjoy dog stories, or if you own one of these
tiny miracles, you will enjoy this one."

Roberta Karchner

"
Pups
in Tea Cups
" is another laugh-out-loud-keep-the-tissue-box-handy book
from best-seller Carolyn McCray. After reading her other "animal"
book, "
Pet
Whisper…er…rrr
" I couldn't wait to read this one. I occasionally
dog-sit for three adorable maltese pups, also known as "the girls."
Not only was I highly entertained by this collection of essays, I learned a lot
about the condition of "Littleness." I'll be an even better
doggie-nannie next time.

If you love tiny breeds or know someone that does
you have to get this book! (And if you're considering adopting a tea cup pup,
this book should be mandatory!)"

Charlotte Abel

Author,
Enchantment

"As a veterinarian, I could completely
relate to all of Carolyn's stories. The joy and sometimes heart-wrenching
moments. She had me laughing and crying at the same time. I couldn't recommend
this book more to anyone who loves dogs, not just the Tea Cup variety!"

Ken Herman, DVM

Start Reading

Afterword

Other Works by Carolyn
McCray

About the Authors

Contact Information

Acknowledgments

Copyright Information

Table of Contents

A Pet Whisperer…er…rrr
Short Story

Wyatt winced as he took the left turn, the hand-over-hand
motion pulling on his most recent injury. His finger still hurt from where
Diablo, the aptly-named devil Chihuahua, had taken a chunk of flesh out of the
protruding digit. Wyatt should really know better by now than to point at the
tiny land-shark while scolding him. Or Wyatt could just stop scolding the
little demon. It didn’t seem to make much difference.

One would think as a
professional
pet psychic, he
could coerce the little rat, but no. Of course Wyatt wasn’t the real pet
psychic, that was his uncle but with Bodhi laid up at the hospital, it was up
to Wyatt to do his muddle through.

As Wyatt rounded the corner, he saw his assistant, Jazmine
stepping out of the beat-up monstrosity she called a car. Jazmine flipped her
red hair up and over her shoulder as she turned to look in his direction. She
gave him a crooked smile, her teeth white against the deep red of her lips. His
hand slipped a little on the wheel. He recovered and flipped her a quick wave
before pulling up to the curb and launching himself out of the car.

“So what we got?” Wyatt asked, checking in the rearview
mirror to make sure his hair was mussed, just so.

Jazmine opened a folder. “Looks like a problem with some
Lovebirds that are fighting.”

“Right,” Wyatt snorted. “Fighting Love birds.”

Then that expressive eyebrow of Jazmine’s shot up.

“Seriously?” Wyatt asked. “Love birds fighting… on
Valentine’s Day?”

He chuckled but that eyebrow just kept going up.

“Oh, okay. Dually Love birds it is.”

Jazmine flipped a sheet over. “The birds have been together
for nearly six months and—”

Wyatt strode up to the house.

“Wait,” Jazmine protesting rushing to catch up. “I haven’t
even told you half the—”

Wyatt held up hand. “I don’t like to prejudice my first
reading.”

His assistant stepped in front of him. “More like you have
no idea what to do with the information.”

“Tomato. Tomaato,” Wyatt said with a shrug. “Besides we need
to a move on, I’ve got plans.” He checked his watch. Actually they needed to
get through this appointment in under five minutes if he hoped to keep his
first reservation.

“You?” Jazmine asked. “
You
have a Valentine?”

“Um,
three
.” Wyatt said as he rubbed his fingernails
against his shirt, then snagged the dog bite on his button. “Ouch.”

“Three? Isn’t that a little…
Big Love
, even for you?”
Jazmine punched his arm, deadening it from the shoulder down. Man, that girl
seriously didn’t know her own strength. He worked his shoulder, trying to get
the frog out.

“Not all at the same time, Sugar Ray,” Wyatt responded. “I’m
spacing out the goodness. I’m meeting one for lunch, one for dinner, and the
last for dessert at her place. And by dessert, I mean a heaping helping of
Wyatt.” He spun around in his best James Brown impersonation. “’Cause I’m all
about the sweetness. Jump back. I wanna kiss myself. Heh!” He waggled his
eyebrows at her.

“I doubt if anybody is going to be asking for a second
helping with those maneuvers.” Jazmine said shaking her head.

“Hey, Valentine’s Day is an important
national
holiday.
I’m just doing what I can to spread the love.” Wyatt pointed to his assistant,
“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatcha got goin’?” Wyatt asked sure she had some swank
dinner plans then a long slow, boring walk along the beach. You know, chick
stuff. “What are your plans?”

“Um…” Jazmine wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Well, he’s older.”

“Oh, so you want to keep your guy a mystery. I feel ya.”

Jazmine turned away, heading to the house. “It’s about that
time, yeah?”

“Definitely!” Wyatt began jumping up and down, slapping his arms
around his chest, then did ten jumping jacks in quick succession.

Jazmine cocked her head. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready.”

“For what?”

Wyatt went into some hamstring stretches. “Remember the
speed whispering event? Dumbo?” Wyatt shuddered. “I still have nightmares about
that elephant’s trunk.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure a couple with fighting lovebirds is
not going to require this much prep.”

“You may be right,” Wyatt replied. “But I’d rather be safe
than sorry. Okay, let’s do this sucker!”

* * *

Walking up, Jazmine studied the architecture of the house.
Anything to avoid watching Wyatt attempt deep knee bends.

The house was a salt box colonial, red brick with white
trim. The lawn was neatly kept, the edging razor sharp, the grass an emerald green.
A silver Mercedes station wagon was parked in the driveway. The entire place
screamed understated wealth and attention to detail, especially in the
renovations. While most of it appeared done, you could still see evidence of
paint drops clothes and discarded scaffolding.

No wonder the birds were upset. Change like that, the noise
of repairs and workmen streaming in and out the house could challenge even a
lovebird’s affection.

As they reached the front door, a loud screech sounded.
Wyatt turned to Jazmine. “See?”

Jazmine rang the doorbell not wanted to egg Wyatt on. How
she ended up in this job still baffled her. To act as an assistant to a man
pretending to be a pet psychic? But that one hundred thousand dollars in
student loans needed to get paid.

“It’s open!” a voice called out. “Come in!”

From all the screeching maybe Wyatt was right. It did sound
a little like a combat zone. Her “boss” puffed out three quick breaths then
opened the door.

“Hurry,” the voice called out, “Close the door before—”

Jazmine slammed the door close just as a green and red bird
streaked up, screaming all the way. Its bright plumage a blur. It banked over
their heads then dove.

Straight for Wyatt. He ducked, covering his head but somehow
the bird landed right in the middle where Wyatt couldn’t reach. He stood up
abruptly as Jazmine tried contained her laughter.

“What?” he said, running his finger through his hair.
“What’s so funny?”

She pointed to the bird on his head, but Wyatt just couldn’t
find the little thing as it settled down on the top of his head. Jazmine’s eyes
teared up from suppressing the laughter.

“You’ve… You’ve got…”

“Got what?” Wyatt exclaimed turning in a tight circle. “I’ve
got a what?”

By now the lovebird was preening its feathers, right on top
of Wyatt’s head.

“You’ve got a…”

“A what?” Wyatt demanded.

“I am so sorry,” their client, Mrs. Kaufman, said running
up. “I don’t know what’s gotten into—”

Another huge screech and suddenly a second lovebird banked
around the corner, zeroing in on Wyatt.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Wyatt yelled trying to duck, but the
second lovebird came at him, talons out. “Um, hey! A little help here? Ow! What
the—”

“Shoo!” Jazmine said waving at the two birds until they
finally flew off, fighting all the way.

“I can’t possibly apologize enough,” Mrs. Kaufman said as
she extended her hand.

“No, no you couldn’t,” her boss said, shaking his head,
sending green feathers everywhere.

“I’m Ragan,” the client explained. “They have been going at
it for weeks. I can’t understand why.”

Jazmine was about to reply when a male voice called out, “Ragan!
Have you seen the Goltz brief? I put it down on the mantle and now I can’t find
it.”

Ragan’s lips fell into a hard frown as she yelled back. “I
put it in your desk, Dan. You know. Desk? The place where paperwork’s supposed
to be kept?” She grimaced at Jazmine, apparently looking for some feminine
solidarity. “But how about you come and meet the pet psychic and his
assistant?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll be there in a minute,” the husband
responded. “I need to make a quick call.”

“Quick call,” Ragan muttered then raised her voice. “It’s
never a quick call.” Their client turned her attention back to them. “I’m
sorry. I really thought that doing this on Valentine’s Day would make it so
that we could do this all together.”

“Hey, yeah, no problem,” Wyatt said, still trying to get his
hair back in place while eyeing the arguing birds. “They always so friendly?”

The woman sighed. “They used to be so in love. Grooming each
other. They could barely be apart, but now?”

She indicated to the curtain rod. Each bird had settled on
either end, glaring at one another.

Mr. Haufman came out of the office, setting both birds
squawking at one another. “Satisfied?” he asked his wife. “A
short
call.”

Ragan did not seem satisfied at all especially with the two lovebirds
high pitched cries. “And its only taken
how
many weeks to schedule a
simple appointment?”