Page 21 of Taming Georgia

I hold my palms up. “Why on earth do you want to learn this? Why my rescue?”

“I don’t know for sure,” she huffs. “But I do. Mark told me about it.”

“Mark?”

“Mark and Stan? He said you help him.”

“You know Mark and Stan?” I ask her, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

“Sort of. We’ve met.”

“And he told you to come work for me?”

Nothing she’s saying is making sense.Why would Mark have suggested to Georgia that she should work at my shelter?

“Sort of.”

I groan.

This could go on all day. For as much as I hate her, I have to admire the way she stands up to me. Besides Georgia, the only other person in my life to argue with me is Ethel. It’s refreshing and annoying, all at once.

“Whatever,” I concede. “So, we’re dealing with older puppies. Chances are, they haven’t had much contact with people, so they’ll still be pretty skittish. But puppies usually aren’t aggressive. However, you must always be careful because a scared dog can bite. They’re bound to be hungry, hence the cans of food.”

I show her the leash. “If I can get this loop around a neck, I can pull it to tighten it and lead the puppy to this crate.”

“And if you can’t?” she asks.

“Then, I’m going to have to crawl in there and scare them out while you stand in front of the hole with the open crate. So, they’ll run in.”

“Like a trap.” She nods.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Her blue eyes shine brighter than usual as she smiles wide. “Okay, I got it. Let’s do this.” Her voice is excited as she claps her gloved hands together.

If I didn’t detest Georgia as much as I do, I might laugh at how adorable she is.

But I do. So, I don’t.

6

“There was a brief moment when I thought that true love was possible, but Wyatt was there to show me that it wasn’t.” —Georgia Wright

“Any exciting Friday night plans?” Ethel asks, handing me a bowl of food.

I bend down and place the bowl into Squirrely’s cage, making sure that his gate is double-latched before stepping to the next kennel. Squirrely didn’t get his name for nothing. That boy can get out of almost anything.

“Actually, my sister, London, is flying in for the weekend to visit. So, I’ll probably go out with the girls,” I tell Ethel as she hands me the next bowl of food.

She and I have a pretty good system going. She pulls around a wagon with the food and bowls, and I do the bending.

“How about you?” I ask.

She chuckles. “I’m too old to have Friday night plans.”

“No, you are not.” I chastise, “You need to stop saying that. You’re only as old as you feel.”

“Huh,” she lets out a grunt. “I feel damn old. You just wait until you’re my age. You’ll understand. Plus, I work here on the weekends. The dogs still need to be cared for.”

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