Page 8 of The Dire Reaction

“Can you hold his paw, please? I can go ahead and shave his leg for the IV, if he’ll tolerate it.” She tilts her hip, holding the cordless clippers, her raised eyebrows watching me.

“Sure, Thor, come.” Thor walks over to me, his jowls draining matching dots of drool on my knee. “Good boy, sit.” I scratch his ears, and offer another bit of hot dog as he groans to the floor.

“Can we do this with him laying down? The hard floor is hard for him to shake on. I think it hurts his hips.”

“Absolutely! I get it.” She gives me a broad, eye lightening smile.

“Thor, down.” I reward him with another piece of hot dog. His tongue drips on the hardwood floor after he swallows it down.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy!” She kneels next to him and rubs his ears using a singsong voice, I swear that dog is smiling. Hell, I am too.

Sitting on the floor next to him, I give his belly a good scratch to get him to roll onto his side, and he obliges by reaching his paw out and resting on my folded knee. It nearly fills my hand when I grasp it. “Well, that was easy.”

“Sometimes, they just know we’re trying to help.” She says it matter of factly, and turns on the clippers.

When the vibration touches his leg for the first time, he gives a gentle tug against my hand. He relaxes into it quickly, the soft buzzing filtering through to my palm as she works.

My view is exceptional. Only inches from her. I can watch her as she concentrates. The small freckles across her nose, her blond lashes that brush her cheek, and the dart of her tongue against her lip when she goes carefully over the tendons of his leg.

It only takes a couple of minutes before she has a bare spot all the way around his leg and a small pile of loose white fur on the floor against my knee. I can feel his paw getting heavier as he relaxes, the toes no longer curling against my palm like he’s holding on.

The gentle rhythm of his breathing has slowed and deepened.

“Guess it’s like a spa day for him,” I smile, scooping up the loose fur. I don’t want to disturb his long nose resting against my boot. So, instead, I find myself leaning back on my elbow awkwardly to drop it into the small garbage can behind me.

A quick glance at her before I sit back up reveals her eyes glued to my stomach, at the place my shirt lifted when I stretched.

The blush returns to her neck, but I don’t think she noticed me catching her.

Maybe she isn’t completely professional.

She raises on her knees and turns, drops the clippers into their case and grabs the razor. I catch another glimpse of her bra as she turns, ever so briefly. It’s enough to cause my cock to twitch though.

Down, boy.

She drags the razor in a small rectangle on his leg. Up at the table, she exchanges the razor for her coffee cup before rolling back to sit cross-legged next to Thor. Sadly, a few inches further away from me.

“So, what brought you to Boise?” I ask, curiosity killing me.

“Oh, I went to school in Idaho. It wasn’t a big leap to land here. Better mix of customers. Still lots of large livestock to offset all the dogs and cats.” Her hand reaches over, smoothing out the fur over Thor’s shoulder. “I’m from Missoula originally, but it’s pretty full of small animal vets. Boise is growing so fast and there’s still lots of room. With Doctor Carter retiring, it seemed like a good fit.”

“He’s been around for a long time. My dad started going to him soon after he opened his practice. They’ve been friends forever. Heard they’re planning a golfing trip to Florida.” The thought of my dad wearing golf shorts and a Hawaiian shirt is hysterical.

Thor gives a soft snore, his nose pressing against my knee.

“Looks like he’s out.” She finishes her coffee and stands. Her ass is right at eye level, tight in the confines of her jeans.

Kneeling with her IV kit, she sprays the bare spot with some sort of aerosol.

“Lidocaine to numb it.” She answers my unspoken question.

With a deft motion, she sinks the needle. Thor doesn’t even twitch an ear.

“Oh, good, I was hoping he’d be out enough.” She tapes the tubing to his leg, and attaches the bag to it. Yellow liquid works its way down the line, disappearing into him.

“Can I hang this on the chair? Or do we need to move him?” She holds the bag, the yellow fluid viscous, like oil, slowly sloshes inside.

“Chair sounds good to me. He’s awfully damn heavy to move now.” Finally getting to stand, my legs tingle from sitting on the hard floor so long.

---