Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“No, you can’t have another cookie,” he said firmly.
“Cookie.” Garrick smiled, and it was a great smile, wide and welcoming, the sort belonging to an easy charmer who probably had tons of friends. “That’s it. At least we know she’ll come to that. And you can put my address for now.”
After the intake information was handled, they were shown to a little room with a window facing a garden and a cheery mural on the wall.
“You and your son can wait in here while I take Cookie for her weight and temperature,” the receptionist said to Garrick, making Rain snort. The dude wasn’t that old. Midthirties maybe. His messy hair and facial scruff made him look older, but he didn’t have any gray yet. For himself, Rain was used to looking young. Probably one of the reasons the bartender gig had fallen through. The manager guy had sounded like he didn’t trust Rain to not be slipping drinks to underage buddies.
“Not the son. Just another neighbor,” Rain said quickly before she could leap to her next assumption that Garrick was the sugar daddy with the credit cards. Not that Rain would necessarily mind, but this was a small town, and Garrick had “sports-loving dude bro” written all over him.
“Ah. Well, Cookie is lucky to have you both. I’ll check on a microchip while we’re in the back.”
“Man, I hope she’s got the microchip and a nice owner on file,” Garrick said as the receptionist and Cookie left, leaving Rain to take one of the seats in the room.
“Yeah, she’s a great dog.” Personally, Rain didn’t have as much hope of an owner—no collar, and despite a sturdy build the dog looked like she hadn’t had a good meal in a few days.
“So, tell me about these firefighting classes you were taking. What certs do you have?” Garrick asked like he actually cared about the answer and not like he was just looking to kill time. Which made Rain give him a real answer, one that kept them talking about his rather eclectic collection of community college classes until a vet tech brought Cookie back.
The tech was followed by a woman around Garrick’s age who had to be the vet, judging by the stethoscope around her neck. “I have good news and bad news,” the vet said as she shut the door behind her. Cookie now sported a white mitt on her paw and a shaved patch around the scrape on her side, but seemed in good spirits. “Which do you want first?”
“Good,” Rain said, right as Garrick said, “Bad.”
“Okay. Both it is.” The vet laughed. She had kind eyes and short dark hair, and Cookie was already nuzzling up to her, looking for treats. “Well, no microchip for one. No lost dog calls here either. But good news—she’s been spayed and other than a large thorn in her paw and the scrape on her side, she’s pretty healthy. I’d guess she’s a year or two old. We’ve cleaned her wounds, and she’ll need to keep the mitt on her paw for a couple of days. I’d like to do a round of antibiotics because the side scrape did look somewhat infected to me, but that’s largely out of caution.”
“What’s the rest of the bad news?” Garrick sounded like a guy who had heard more than his share of it over the years, not reacting to the better news about Cookie’s health beyond stretching out a hand for her to warily sniff again.
“I’m assuming you’re hoping to get her off your hands, but our kennel is full of patients who need overnight care. Lydia called the shelter in Bend, and they’re full as well, including foster homes that could handle an injured animal. They can stick a picture of her up on the found page, but they’re not sure they can get her a place before they close tonight. A number of the rescues are in a similar boat—either they’re very breed-and size-specific or they aren’t taking new animals right now. I’ll be honest—her size and her breeds along with the injuries are going to make her a tough placement, especially on a weekend.”
“Heck.” Wide shoulders deflating, Garrick studied his hands, which left Rain to pet Cookie.
“I can work on Grandma. Maybe by Monday, her owners will be found.”
“She said no,” Garrick reminded him. “And she’s got the other dogs to think about. It makes sense. My friends in the country would be good, but they just added a third dog. I doubt they’re going to be up for one more already. I can see who else might be able to help.”
“How about you?” Rain turned on the sort of smile that usually brought him good luck.
“Me?” Garrick blinked.
“Yes, you. You’d be perfect.” Nodding, he leaned forward, waiting for Garrick to embrace the obvious.