Page 7 of A Chance at Forever
“I’ll let the vet know, and we’ll be waiting for you when you get here with him. What is your name, ma’am?”
“Victoria Lockridge.”
“And what is the nature of the dog’s injuries?”
“He’s limping, and there’s evidence of blood. Not sure what else might be wrong with him. He’s really thin.”
“Well, we’ll fix him right up. See you soon.”
“Thank you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Victoria pulled into the parking lot of the standalone building that resembled a gingerbread house. She liked the façade, and so did her canine companion because he let out a softwoof.
“Okay, boy. We’re here. Please don’t give me any trouble.” She climbed from the Mustang, and he followed her out through the driver’s side. The dog’s obvious pain caused her heart to fill with pity.
The receptionist she’d spoken to earlier saw them arrive and held open the door. With easy proficiency she slipped a collar and leash around the golden retriever’s neck. “Follow me. I can do the intake information in the examination room. Dr. Weaver is waiting.”
The dog settled down surprisingly well during the vet’s examination.
“He doesn’t have a chip,” Dr. Weaver noted. She continued to make remarks about the dog’s condition as she cleaned him up, treated him for fleas, and administered the appropriate shots for his age, approximately two years. His limp was due to a gash in his back hind leg. It didn’t need stitches, so the vet wrapped it in sterile bandages after she cleansed the wound.
The golden retriever bore Dr. Weaver’s ministrations with a patience attributed to the breed.
“So, what happens now?” Victoria asked as the vet finished with the dog. He looked much better with a clean and brushed coat of fur. At the moment he was wolfing down a bowl of kibble and slurping water.
“Well, that depends on what you want to do with him. If you leave him with us, we can try to find him a home, but otherwise he’ll go to a no-kill shelter. He could be there for a while before someone adopts him.”
Victoria and the dog made eye contact. “I’ll take him with me. I’m on my way home to California.”
Dr. Weaver handed Victoria a bottle of antibiotics. “Give him one of these a day in his food for the next ten days. After that, take him to be checked again and have him microchipped. You can keep the collar and the leash, and we’ll also give you some dry food and a couple of bowls.”
As she settled the bill, Victoria said, “Thank you for everything you did for my poor boy.”
“It’s my pleasure. Have a safe trip home.”
The dogwoofedhis thanks and obediently followed his new mistress.
Passing through Denver, Victoria admired the Rockies and grinned at her companion. “It’s you and me now, bud.”
He returned her grin and wagged his tail. Victoria laughed. “Well, I guess Bud will be your name.”
*
Rusty Sinclair packedup his fishing gear and loaded it into the back of his old truck. He’d caught a mess of catfish on the lake near West Bend and planned to fillet and fry them for dinner later. Right now, though, he wanted homemade apple pie and vanilla ice cream at the diner on Main Street.
The waitress behind the counter, who’d been a fixture there for decades, waved Rusty toward a table. “What can I get for you, Rusty?”
“A piece of apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, Hilda,” he called. “Oh, and a cup of coffee.”
“Coming right up.”
Gazing through the large plate glass windows as he enjoyed a piece of warm apple pie with the ice cream slightly melting on top, Rusty saw a Mustang convertible parallel park behind his truck. A woman hopped out and went around to the other side where she spoke to her golden retriever and rubbed his head. She wore her shiny dark hair in a messy bun, navy-colored shorts, and a sleeveless white blouse with a modest neckline.
He followed her progress into the diner. She approached the counter and greeted Hilda with a polite, “Good afternoon. I’d like to order a cheeseburger to go, and an extra patty for my dog.” She looked over her shoulder at him waiting for her in the car. “He’s had a rough day.”
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to leave that poor baby out in this heat. Bring him in.”
Doubt crossed the woman’s face. “Are you sure your customers won’t mind?” Her gaze traveled around the diner and landed on Rusty.
