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Amelie came from a long line of Catholic Poodles, thanks to the Sandersons. The devout humans treated their pets like people, to a point. They cooked elaborate meals in shiny glass finery for the dogs, while they themselves ate microwave dinners. They held intricate wedding ceremonies for each couple they bred (after marriage, of course!).

The only real difference between how they treated Poodles and how they treated people was that when the puppies came, they gave all but one away. Amelie was the lucky one, destined to replace her mother. Her mother had replaced_her_ mother, and so on, so Amelie knew exactly what would happen: when she grew old enough, the Sandersons would find an appropriate husband for her, let them meet, get married, and start the cycle all over again.

Of course the old, white couple took their dogs to mass, though they didn't bring them _into_the cathedral. They let the dogs play in the church garden with the others. So rather that get the direct word of God from a human priest, Amelie and her parents learned from Father Rover.

Rover was the priest's dog, so he knew a _lot_about God's word. He taught the neighborhood dogs whenever they managed to show up at the church garden. The Sanderson's Poodles were the only consistent congregants, but Rover would sometimes make housecalls for dogs that couldn't make it very often.

Today, at mass, there was a new dog, and a Poodle, nonetheless! He was just a puppy, too, standing a little shorter than Amelie herself. She was almost six months old and pretty much half-grown. She took to him immediately, playing around the park before the service started. They chased each other and bounced and played until Amelie flopped over onto the ground, panting. The new dog stood next to her and said, "What's your name?"

"Amelie," she smiled. "What about you?"

The puppy smiled. "I'm Cash."

Amelie was impressed that the energetic puppy sat through the entire mass politely (as did she). But the most amazing thing happened as she was following her parents back to the gate, where the Sandersons were waiting. Another person, a woman in a long, blue dress was talking to them.

"I noticed your dogs getting along really well with Cash," the woman said.

"Cash?" said Mr. Sanderson.

"That little Poodle right there. Your little one and he really seemed to hit it off."

The two Sandersons lowered their glasses to see the far off puppy. "Oh?" said Mrs. Sanderson.

"Well, the reason I bring it up, is that I'm with the county humane society, and Cash is in need of a good home..."

"Oh, no," said Mr. Sanderson, and Amelie's ears drooped. "We can't get a random dog. We always choose based on breeding lines."

The woman was persistent, however. "Well, out facility is absolutely brimming. Perhaps you could foster Cash, at least for a little while?"

Mr. Sanderson glanced over at Mrs. Sanderson. She looked over at the woman and said, "Our little one is almost ready for her first heat. I'm not sure it's a good fit."

"Oh, I assure you, Cash is just a puppy. The papers said he was three months old. Even if your dog did go into heat, there'd be no risk. Please, we could really use your help. Just a week?"

There was a pause. One look at Amelie wagging her tail and rubbing against Cash was enough to convince Mr. Sanderson. "One week."

Amelie had never been more excited.

Life with Cash was ever so much fun. Amelie's parents were old and tired now, but Cash was a bundle of energy. They'd run and dash and play tug of war, and roll around in the mud together, and whine when they got baths. More wags occurred in just that one week than in the past two months_combined_. Even better, Cash got to go to school with Amelie. "Trust Dan; Obey" was already the highlight of her day, but watching Cash learn how to sit and stay so quickly and with such precision was a delight for Amelie. The pup even managed to help _her_learn a thing or two.

"You're so smart," Amelie panted, during one of their breaks.

"You're so pretty," the puppy replied.

Mrs. Sanderson called Cash over, so Amelie got a chance to talk with her previous best friend, an Afghan Hound named Saná. "Isn't Cash great?"

Saná was strangely silent, until she said, "I guess so."

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I mean...I guess I don't like the way he looks at me. It's probably nothing."

"You're not jealous, are you? You're still my friend, Saná," Amelie explained, wagging her tail.

"Maybe," she admitted. "You have been spending a lot of time with him."

Amelie nodded. "You're right. I get to see him all day, but I only get to see you at school. I'll make sure to include you, too."

Now, the three of them sat in a nice row, learning tricks together, Amelie, Cash, and then Saná. They even mastered a new trick of balancing a treat on their nose and only eating it when their owner said "okay". Amelie was proud that both she and Cash managed to do it without drooling.

Back home, late at night, Amelie was about to head to her soft, twin mattress, when she overheard Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson talking. "Amelie has taken a real liking to Cash."

Mrs. Sanderson replied, "I know, but we don't have any papers on him. We don't know if he's got health issues or a history of aggression, or..."

Mr. Sanderson said, "Pedigree isn't as important to God as compatibility. I'm starting to wonder if God sent us Cash for a reason. We should at_least_ foster him for another week, if not adopt him outright."

Amelie couldn't sleep that night, she was so excited.

Another week passed, and, a day before their next obedience training, Amelie and Cash were playing in the backyard. She'd just won tug-of-war (she always won) and they decided to play tag. Cash was still a little shorter than Amelie, but he was fast, so whenever he was "it" she had to dart around in circles to keep him away. But, as always, he pounced her eventually, and both puppies landed in a heap in the grass, panting.

"Got ya!" Cash grinned.

"Oooh, I _almost_got away," she lied, looking up at him.

He was staring down at her now, his eyes sort of glossed over. "Amelie?" he asked.

"Yes, Cash?" she said.

"Can I kiss you?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Kissing was okay in the eyes of God, wasn't it? And besides, Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson had all but promised her to Cash. Still, she'd never been kissed. "Yes," she whispered.

Cash leaned down and licked her muzzle, and she opened her mouth, their tongues touching for the first time. Cash broke the kiss first, saying, "That was...nice."

Amelie replied, "It was," her tail thumping in the grass.

"I think I love you," he said.

Amelie didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't. Instead, she leaned forward and said, "Let's chase butterflies!"

At school the next day, Amelie made sure to tell Saná everything about the kiss, and how the Sandersons were thinking about adding Cash to their family permanently, and her tail wagged the entire time she talked. Saná didn't seem quite as enthusiastic, her long, silken ears drooping (or perhaps how they normally were).

The Afghan Hound said, "It just seems so fast."

The French Poodle didn't agree. Another week passed, and three weeks still seemed like forever to the sixth-month-old puppy. She'd spent almost a sixth of her life with Cash, and he'd spent a full fourth of his. There was no one she'd rather spend time with than the foster puppy. But, then, he was no longer a foster!

"We want to be his forever home," Mr. Sanderson explained to the lady from the Church.

"Really? That's excellent. I _knew_he'd be a good fit. I'll get all the papers ready immediately."

That night, two days before their next school day, Amelie told Cash the good news.

"You get to stay with us, Cash. Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson just signed the papers to keep you," she said, wagging her tail.

The smaller puppy perked his ears up, wagging wildly. "That's great! I didn't want to have to go back to the shelter..."

"And now you never have to," Amelie agreed. "You can stay here with me."

"I'd love that."

"Me too."

They stared at each other, which normally unsettled Amelie with other dogs, but with Cash, she only felt comfortable. She leaned forward and kissed him again, and he kissed her back. Shivering, she said, "I like that."

He kissed her again, nosing forward insistently. She had to take a step back, and another step back, until the puppy had rounded on her, and she spilled over onto her back. Even then, Cash just stepped over her, belly-to-belly, to kiss her again, eagerly lapping against her tongue.

They looked like a pile of curly, white hair as they embraced each other, and any doubt that they'd end up as husband and wife vanished from Amelie's mind. They were so perfect together! "I love you, too," she sighed, wistfully.

Cash grinned, wagging even faster. "Will you marry me?"

"...Yes," she gasped, though that decision was really up to the Sandersons.

"Great!" Cash stepped off of her and ran in a tight, little circle, wagging his fluffy, white tail. Amelie just watched, tail wagging. Until his spinning brought his snout close to her tail. His spin stopped abruptly, and he instinctively sniffed her butt.

They'd done it a thousand times - a quick, polite sniff, but this was something different. Cash left her tailhole and nosed upward, between her legs. She felt his sharp intake of breath against her spade, making her tremble. "What are you doing?" she whimpered.