“Mac, where are you?” Emma cried. “You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Mac said. “I found a dog.”
Gavin stood, rubbed his face, and then held his hand out to the dog. She thumped her tail on the counter and pressed her head into his hand, welcoming his attention.
“A dog, what? Here, talk to Carly,” Emma said. “My hairdresser needs my scalp.”
“Mac, what are you doing?” Carly asked. She sounded amused.
“I rescued a dog,” Mac said.
“Let’s take her into an exam room,” Gavin said as he lifted the dog out of Mac’s arms. “I can give her a proper once-over there.”
“Ooh, a proper once-over sounds naughty,” Carly said.
“Shut up,” Mac said. Gavin frowned at her and she cringed. “Sorry, not you, Carly.”
He nodded as if this made perfect sense and led the way into a small room off of the lobby. The puppy popped her head over his shoulder as if looking to make sure Mac was following.
“Listen, I have to go,” Mac said.
“Wait,” Carly said. “You aren’t supposed to be on your own with you know who.”
Her voice was low and Mac imagined she was trying not to let Emma overhear their conversation.
“I know, but there are extenuating circumstances,” she said. “Besides, technically, I’m not alone.”
“Whatever,” Carly said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Mac lied. “It’ll be fine. Tell Emma I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“All right, smell ya later,” Carly said and hung up.
Mac went into the exam room and found Gavin sitting on the floor with the dog. She was hunkered low to the ground and looking very nervous. Mac dropped her bag on a chair and got down on the floor, too.
She glanced at Gavin as the puppy wiggled into her lap. “Sorry we woke you. I was just going to grab a chair and wait while you got some shut-eye.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” he said. He looked exhausted and it was all Mac could do not to offer to let him rest his head in her lap. Good thing the dog was already there. “So, what do we have here?”
“I have no idea,” Mac said. “I found her crouched in the alley that runs between First and Third Streets. She was sitting in a pile of broken flowerpots that once had tulips in them, half hidden behind a Dumpster.”
Gavin made a concerned face. “Tulip bulbs are poison for dogs. Any chance you noticed if she ate any?”
“No, it looked like she’d gnawed on some of the flowers and stems, but I don’t know about the bulbs.”
“If she did, she could have an upset stomach, drooling, depression, tremors, or heart problems,” he said.
Mac lifted the dog’s chin and looked her in the eye. “Did you do that?”
The dog wagged her tail and licked Mac’s chin.
Mac looked at Gavin. “She’s not talking.”
He smiled. “After I examine her, you can show me where you found her. We might be able to tell if she ate anything bad or not.”
“Thanks,” Mac said. “I really appreciate this.”
“No worries,” he said. “It’s what I do.”
He stood up and opened a cabinet. He took out a stethoscope and a thermometer. Then he crouched back on the floor with Mac and the dog.
“She seems to trust you,” he said. “Can you hold her and talk to her while I check her over?”
Mac nodded. Gavin ran his hands over the dog, checking her legs and paws. He then checked her sides, her back, and her neck. When he leaned close to examine her ears, she turned her head and licked his face. Gavin smiled at her and gave her a gentle scratch beneath the chin.
“You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you, love?” he asked.
His voice was so gentle and kind, it made Mac want to climb into his lap and have him scratch her under the chin. She glanced at the puppy and noted she was staring at Gavin with a look of worship. Apparently, his charm was not limited to females of the human persuasion.
Mac wondered if she’d looked at Gavin like that when he’d run his hands over her all those years ago. Then she cleared her throat and glanced away. She had to get a grip. There was no point in going there, none at all.
“She’s young, maybe three months old judging by her teeth. She hasn’t been spayed, and she doesn’t seem to have any injuries, so overall she’s looking good,” he said.
Mac nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Gavin continued his examination. The stethoscope portion went fine, but the dog did not like the rectal thermometer, not at all.
“I know it’s very rude of him, isn’t it?” Mac asked the dog, who had begun to growl. “But it’s just to make certain that you’re okay. Gav’s a good guy, I promise.”
“Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever had a person vouch for me to their animal before,” Gavin said. “Thanks for that.” The thermometer beeped and he checked it. “Her temp is fine. She’s a little on the thin side but otherwise okay.”
“Good.” Mac sighed. The dog, sensing her exam was over, flopped onto her back and gave Mac a decidedly sassy look.
“She likes you,” Gavin said. “What are you going to do with her?”
Mac frowned. “I don’t know. Call a dog shelter, I guess. I mean, the aunts are too old to take on a puppy, and I’m not going to be here much longer.”
Gav didn’t say anything, but Mac could tell there was something on his mind.
“What?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” he said. He dropped the disposable thermometer sleeve into the biohazard bucket and put the thermometer and stethoscope on the counter.
“But?”
Gavin sighed. “You might want to foster her for a while and see if you can find someone to adopt her as an animal shelter may not go well for her.”
“Why?” Mac asked. “She’s so cute. I’m sure she must have a family who loves her and is looking for her.”
“Maybe, but she doesn’t have a microchip or tags,” he said. “She’s awfully young, so I’m thinking . . .”
He hesitated and Mac wondered what he was holding back.
“Out with it,” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Since you found her in an alley,” he said. “I suspect that she might have been thrown out.”
“Like with the garbage?” Mac gasped and hugged the dog close. “Who could do such a thing? She’s adorable.”
“Some people do shitty things to animals,” he said. He looked so much older than his twenty-seven years. Mac wondered how many times he’d seen a dog thrown out or worse.
“But Tulip is so young, she’s just a baby,” Mac protested.
“Tulip?”
“Seems appropriate.” She shrugged.
He grinned, then he looked sad. “Here’s the other bit of bad news. She’s a mutt so it’s not like someone lost an expensive pedigree dog and will want her back. She’s got the big, blocky head and broad shoulders of an Amstaff, an American Staffordshire terrier, and the shorter nose of a Boxer, but whatever else is in there, I have no idea.”
“Wait. She’s part ‘pit bull’?” Mac asked. She looked at the adorable goofball in her arms. She had heard stories of pit bull attacks and she remembered how she’d felt when Tulip had first growled at her. Scared.
“Yes, it’s a pretty umbrella term that covers a couple of breeds, but her head and shoulders are definitely from that lineage,” Gav said. “If she goes to a shelter she has a one in six hundred chance of being adopted, which means she’ll likely be euthanized.”
“As in put to sleep?” The words squeezed around Mac’s insides like a giant fist, making it hard to breathe.
“Yeah,” Gavin said. He looked grim.
Chapter 13
“No, just no,” Mac said. She stood and Tulip pressed herself against Mac’s leg as if to make sure Mac didn’t forget her. She reached down and scratched Tulip’s head. “That’s not happening to you. Not on my watch.”
“Mac, I can keep her here and try to find a home for her,” Gavin said.
Mac knew that was the practical solution. Gavin was tapped into the local dog lover community in ways she never would be, but when she glanced down at Tulip she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t foist her off like she was a nuisance or a burden.
“Thanks, but if you have a leash I could buy or borrow, that’d be great,” Mac said.
“If you’re actually going to take her, you’re going to need stuff,” Gavin said. He led the way out of the exam room to a display of pet care items on the wall in the lobby. He handed Mac a leash.
She bent over and clipped the leash onto Tulip’s boring beige collar. “Such as?”
“Food, bowls, a bed, toys, and treats for bribing good behavior out of her might be a good idea,” he said.
Mac fished through her big bag and pulled out her wallet. She took out her bank card and handed it to him. “Can I buy it all from you?”
Gavin shook his head. “I’m not taking your money.”
“Uh, yes, you are,” she said. “Come on, I need this stuff and you have it.”
“But you are . . .” He paused as if he didn’t know what to call her and an abrupt awkwardness fell between them with all the subtlety of a cartoon anvil.
“A client,” Mac said assertively.
Gavin looked as if he’d argue, but the door opened and Mrs. Carson walked in carrying two large cat carriers. Judging by the yowling coming from the carriers, the cats were not happy about their confined situation.
Gavin hurried forward and took the carriers from her hands. “Good morning, Mrs. Carson.”
“Thank you, dear, you’re—”
Whatever Mrs. Carson had been about to say was interrupted by Tulip as she began to bark and jump at the carriers in Gavin’s hands. Mac dug in her heels and held Tulip back while Gavin set the carriers up onto the high counter out of Tulip’s reach.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Carson said. She put her hand to her throat as if she were afraid Tulip was going to go for it.
“Don’t worry,” Mac said, using all of her strength to hold Tulip back. “She’s just an exuberant puppy.”
Thankfully, Tulip was wagging as she hopped up on her back legs, trying to get to the cats.
“I’m off for lunch soon,” Gavin said. He scooped Tulip up in his arms. “How about I drop off what you need at your house then?”
Mac dropped her credit card onto the desk behind the counter. “Thanks and be sure to bill me.”
Gavin looked like he’d argue but Tulip began to wiggle in his arms so he had to hustle her out the door with Mac trailing behind holding the handle of the leash. Once outside, he set her on the ground and Tulip immediately began to sniff the area around the door.
“Are you sure you can handle her?” he asked. Mac made a muscle with her free arm and Gavin smiled. “Yeah, I know you’re stronger than you look.”
“And don’t you forget i—” Whatever Mac had been about to say was lost as Tulip decided it was time to go and dragged her up the sidewalk.
“I’ll be by at noon,” Gavin yelled after them.
Mac barely had time to wave before Tulip hauled her around the corner and out of sight. The walk back to Mac’s house wasn’t a walk so much as a drag, with Tulip dragging Mac up the street and Mac having to redirect Tulip from going in the wrong direction.
When Mac decided to cut back through the alley, Tulip planted her haunches on the ground and refused to budge. Mac tried coaxing her past the Dumpster where she’d found her, but Tulip was having none of it. When Mac stroked her back to calm her, she discovered Tulip was trembling. She immediately crouched down on Tulip’s level.
“Hey, there, baby girl,” she cooed. “It’s okay. We’re just walking by. I need to check and make sure you didn’t eat anything bad.”
At the word bad, Tulip dropped to her belly and looked like she wanted to scuttle away. Mac realized the poor dog had heard the word before and not in a good way. She knew she couldn’t force the dog any closer to the smashed flowerpots, so she tied her to another porch rail and quickly hurried across the alley to check out the refuse.
There wasn’t much left of the flowers and Mac suspected that Tulip had climbed onto the back steps of the real estate office and accidentally knocked the pots off the stoop.
She searched through the soil and found several bunches of roots. It didn’t look like any of them had been gnawed; still, she’d keep an eye on Tulip and make sure she didn’t show any symptoms of distress.
Mac knocked on the back door, but the office appeared to be empty. She highly doubted that the Realtors who worked in the office had tossed a puppy in the alley, but maybe they had seen someone or something. Mac decided she would pop in later for a chat.
Mac crossed back to the dog and untied her. Tulip pressed against her and Mac scooped her into her arms. She knew the only way Tulip was going to get past the Dumpster was if Mac carried her.
She walked to the end of the alley before she put Tulip down and when she did, Tulip rose on her back legs and licked Mac’s face, catching her right on the lips.
“Oh, ugh!” Mac laughed. “We’re going to have to discuss some boundaries, Miss Tulip, let’s start with no open-mouth kisses, m’kay?”
Tulip’s tongue hung out the side of her mouth and one of her ears flopped over the top of her head. She bounded forward, eager to leave her traumatic past behind.
“I hear that,” Mac muttered as she hurried to follow her.
They sped up the gravel drive to home to find Aunt Sarah puttering in the front flower bed while Aunt Charlotte was exactly where she’d been before, reading the newspaper while relaxing on the porch swing.
Seeing new people to love, Tulip leapt and twisted, trying to break free of Mac’s hold. At the commotion both sisters looked up and although they generally looked nothing alike, they now wore matching expressions of dismay as Mac and Tulip approached.
“What is that?” Sarah asked.
“This is Tulip,” Mac said. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
“A dog?” Charlotte asked. “You got a dog?”
Tulip went to jump on Sarah, who frowned at her and said, “No!”
Tulip immediately sat down, her tail thumping the ground as she looked at Sarah for approval.
“How did you do that?” Mac asked.
“Sarah is a natural alpha,” Charlotte said.
Tulip glanced up at her and jumped toward her.
“No,” Charlotte said and Tulip leapt at her again, forcing Mac to tighten her grip on the leash.
“You have to say it like you mean it,” Sarah said. She stepped in front of Tulip and said, “No.”
Tulip immediately sat back down. Sarah held out her hand and Mac put the leash in it. Sarah reined Tulip in tight and led her up the stairs to meet Charlotte.
“I didn’t know you knew anything about dogs,” Mac said.
“Duh,” Sarah said. Mac blinked. When had Sarah picked up the vernacular of a middle schooler? “I have friends with dogs.”
When they approached Charlotte, Tulip tried to jump onto the swing with her but when it moved, Tulip hit the ground like a bomb had just gone off.
Mac crouched down beside her. “It’s okay. It’s just a swing.”
She sat on the top step of the porch and Sarah sat beside her. Tulip wriggled across the floor until she was wedged in between them. Then she glanced up at them with her tongue hanging out, looking ridiculously happy.
“Poor thing must be thirsty,” Charlotte said. “I’m going to
get her a bowl of water.”
She eased off of the swing and slipped inside. Mac’s phone began to chime in her purse. She glanced at the display and saw it was Emma and that Emma had already called her five times, in fact.
“Weren’t you on veil duty?” Sarah asked.
“Tulip put the kibosh on that plan,” Mac said.
“Tulip? She didn’t bite you for that?” Aunt Sarah asked.
“Trust me, it fits,” Mac said. She thought about the broken pots in the alley and hoped she was right that Tulip hadn’t eaten any of the bulbs or roots or whatever it was Gavin was worried about.
Aunt Sarah shrugged. “It’s your dog.”
“What? No,” Mac said. “I just found her tossed out in an alley. I’m only fostering her until we find her people or a forever home.”
“Uh-huh,” Sarah said.
The screen door opened and Charlotte arrived with a big plastic bowl full of water. She put it down on the side of the porch and Tulip watched her as if she hoped it might be for her.
“Come on, doggy,” Charlotte said.
“Her name’s Tulip,” Sarah corrected her.
“For real?” Charlotte asked.
Mac rolled her eyes. “It’s just temporary. I can’t call her Dog.”
Tulip didn’t move so Mac got up and led her over to the bowl of water. Tulip slurped up a bellyful and then flopped down onto a patch of sunlight. Mac marveled at the way the darker stripes of hair gave her coat a tiger stripe–like look to it. She really was a beautiful dog.
“So, what’s the plan?” Sarah asked. Mac resumed her seat beside her and Charlotte joined them.
“Gav is bringing some supplies over on his lunch hour,” Mac said. “Then I guess I need to figure out if she belongs to anyone and if not find someone who wants her.”
“Because you don’t?” Sarah asked.
“It’s not that I don’t so much as it’s just not practical,” Mac said. “How would I get her back to Chicago? And that’s just for starters.”
“Yeah, blah, blah, blah,” Sarah said. “You could make it work.”
“Maybe,” Mac said. “But I don’t know how Trevor feels . . .”
About a Dog Page 11
