Page 87 of Doing Life

Maynard flapped his ears, jowls wiggling, slapping against his gums.

“No? How does you’re going to be my dog sound to you?”

To his utter shock, Maynard’s answer was another of those wild, echoing bays. Fuck him raw.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Would you like to go for a walk?”

That had Maynard tilting his head, those ears perking as well as any of them could possibly perk with all that weight. There was the quick click of heavy nails on the tile floor, and then all of a sudden he had an armful of bloodhound dog in his lap, licking his face, tail beating furiously against his legs. Somebody knew what a walk was.

He gave the long flanks a good, hard petting before easing Maynard to the floor. “Come on, doofus. Let’s do this, shall we?”

Maynard’s response was a hysterical zoom in tightening circles until he was chasing his tail.

“Lord have mercy.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, starting to send it to Lance before he remembered how monumentally ridiculous it would be. “Well, shit, Maynard. I guess we’ll just have to do the introductions in person.”

The leash was still attached to his collar, so Sloan grabbed it and headed out of the door and into the hallway.

Maynard wasn’t a bad puller, but he was random, following his nose everywhere and managing to seem like an utter dork.

Sloan was in love.

“Incoming, babe,” he warned Lance while they were still coming down the hall.

Lance stood, him and Abby facing them. “What have we got?”

“Maynard the bloodhound. Maynard, this is Lance and Abby. Be polite, now.” He let the two dogs greet, the leash loose, and their body language was amazing.

“Nice. Hey, Maynard,” Lance said, laughing as Maynard licked his hand. “This is my Abby. She’s at work right now.”

Maynard sat as if he knew what that meant, but he was vibrating, his tail going ninety to nothing.

“She’s not stressed at all. No tension against the harness,” Lance said. “So that’s good.”

“It is. Because I’m already in love with the big goofball.”

“Yeah? Here, trade me. I need to feel of him.”

“Okay.” Sloan took Abby’s harness, and she went with him, obedient as always, but she sat not too far away, staring at Lance and Maynard. “Don’t worry, girl. Dad just has to meet and greet.”

Lance took Maynard’s leash, laughing when the big hound jumped on his knees and licked him. “Oh, wow. He really is a big old boy, huh? And these ears.” Lance stroked Maynard’s ears.

“Amazeballs, huh?”

“So soft. You really like him that much?”

“I swear, Lance. He’s my doggie soul mate.” Sloan had never been one to dither. When he made a decision, he went for it.

“Well, then we’ll get him. What all do we need to do?” Lance grinned at him, holding up the leash so they could trade dogs again.

“I need to talk to the adoption team. I imagine they’ll tell me we should take him home on a trial basis first, just to make sure he and Abby get along in the house, but I think that’s just a formality.”

“You were the canine guy.” Lance chuckled. “For all that I have the Seeing Eye dog, you know training and shit.” Lance rubbed Abby’s ears, and she leaned on his leg.

“Sit, Maynard.” As soon as the big lug sat, Sloan gave him a ton of love too. “Who’s a good boy?” he said in the high-pitched tone of K-9 trainers everywhere. “Who’s a good boy?”

Lance raised his hand. “Me!”

“Oh, you are so in for it when we get home. Okay, let me take him back to the meet-and-greet room and see what’swhat.” He stopped next to Lance, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Thanks for this.”

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