by Debbie Burns
“Wow. Well, I hope she gets the help she needs. And in the meantime, all her dogs get adopted into great homes, including the one who ended up in animal control.”
“Yeah, I hope so too. Her signing off like that makes everything less complicated for adopting them out. And since they’re border collies and it’s Christmas, I have high hopes for quick turnarounds for them. You’re coming by around three to meet the new vet, right? He’s doing the dogs’ exams.”
“Sure. Ollie gets out at three, so I’ll be a bit late. I guess I’m still a bit out of the loop. I didn’t know there was a new vet. What happened to Dr. Washington?”
Megan’s shoulders dropped. “He’s retiring. He’s been talking about it for a couple of years, but I’ve been in denial. He’s been our main vet ever since I started. It’ll be weird not to be able to turn to him for advice.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Hopefully, the new vet’s good.”
“I don’t know about good yet,” Megan said, cocking an eyebrow, “but I don’t think it’s just my pregnancy hormones that had me doing a double take when I was introduced to him last week.”
Mia laughed. “What do you mean?”
“All I’ll say is that in his scrubs, he looks more like he’s auditioning for a guest appearance on Grey’s Anatomy than he does like a typical vet.”
“Funny.” Movement out of the corner of Mia’s eye drew her attention toward the house. Patrick was walking down Megan’s porch steps with an armload of supplies. “Hey, Patrick, I can help.” She jogged across the lawn and awkwardly relieved him of one of the folded crates, then headed back toward her car alongside him. “I hope you didn’t come just to help carry things. I could’ve managed.”
“I didn’t. We’re on our way to the Sabrina Raven estate.” Patrick looked to Megan, who was joining them with Sledge still at her side. “The dogs can be adopted out now.”
Although the home and land would soon be sold to one of the shelter workers and her boyfriend, the Sabrina Raven estate had been the shelter’s off-site location where a large-scale rehab of rescued fighting dogs was taking place.
While Patrick’s expression was matter-of-fact as usual, an ear-to-ear smile popped up on Megan’s face.
“The injunction that was keeping the dogs in limbo was lifted,” Megan added. “Someone who works in the system pushed hard to get the case moved through before the holidays.”
“Nice!” Mia gave Megan a high five after setting her crate down next to her trunk. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Those dogs have been through so much, and they’ve come such a long way.”
“You’re not kidding. I was a believer from the start, but I’m still amazed by their resilience. Kurt’s deciding this morning which ones are ready to come over now. There are three or four for sure, he says, plus Zeus, who’s going to be adopted straight into a home down the street from the estate, and Toby, who’s going back to his previous owner. The dogs who are ready but still need homes will come back with us this afternoon. That’s why we’re taking two cars. Pepper is one of them. And her puppies are over eight weeks old and weaned, so they’re ready to be adopted out too. Can you believe we’re going to have a whole mess of Rottweiler-mix puppies at the shelter right before Christmas?”
Tears unexpectedly stung Mia’s eyes. There hadn’t been much to celebrate lately, and this joy warmed her like hot chocolate on a frigid day. “This makes my Christmas. I’m not even kidding. And since some of those guys are going on the mural, it’ll be great to get to know them better. I’ll get to do some on-site sketches of them before I start painting the wall.”
Megan pulled her in for a second hug. “Girl, I know your world’s in chaos, but it makes me so happy you’re going forward with the mural. And just as happy that you’re taking on these dogs. It’ll be great for Ollie. You too, for that matter.”
Mia released a breath. “Thanks, Megs. I appreciate it. I can’t wait to start painting, actually. I just need to make it through Christmas first. Most likely everyone else will forgive me for not having the holiday spirit this year, but I can’t let Ollie down. Knowing how dog crazy he is, just having the dogs in the house will probably be enough. But I don’t want him to miss out on the cookie baking and the light displays and all that. I’m working at the shelter’s gift shop tomorrow afternoon during the Ugly Sweater/Cute Mutt contest, and Ollie’s coming. He’s got six or seven of his favorite Christmas books piled up to read to the dogs.”
“He’s such a sweet kid.” Megan nudged Patrick who’d spent the last minute precisely arranging the folded kennels in Mia’s trunk. “Isn’t he, Patrick?”
Mia knew Patrick well enough to be certain he’d heard the conversation, even though he’d not been engaged in it, which was probably a factor of his high-functioning autism. When the shelter was busy, he frequently astounded people with his ability to process two or three simultaneous conversations. He also wasn’t one to say anything but his complete truth. “I don’t have enough experience with seven-year-olds to answer that accurately, but he’s gentler with the dogs than most kids that age.”
Mia bit her lip to keep a straight face, while Megan turned away to cover her mouth. Thankfully, Mia knew Patrick well enough not to take personally his lack of enthusiasm for anyone under twenty.
“He’d be touched to hear you say that, Patrick. He looked up to you even before learning you could recall every animal who’d moved through the shelter for further back than a year.”
“The more years I’m here, the harder that gets to do. I could give him some pointers, if he’d like. Tomorrow, if he wants. This afternoon, I’ll be getting the dogs settled in.”
Mia thanked him for the offer—Patrick offering to spend any amount of time with a child was rare—and promised she’d let Ollie know. She shut the trunk and promised to meet them back at the shelter in a few hours.
As she headed to the store for the remaining supplies she’d need before picking up the mom and pup, it hit Mia that for the first time in nearly a month, her heart felt light, and the remaining few days before Christmas seemed to hold a brush of the sparkly promise the holiday had when she was younger.
* * *
Mia stepped into High Grove’s new exam room after getting Ollie settled with his books in front of the cats at twenty after three. It took no more than a single glance to see what Megan was talking about when it came to the new vet. He was young, early thirties maybe, and athletic-looking. He had short, dark hair and bright, greenish-hazel eyes that stood out from across the room. Mia had a feeling there were enough single volunteers about his age here that there’d be no shortage of offers to assist him with the animal checks.
With a dog, an exam table, and three other people, the room was a touch crammed, but it was a dedicated and quiet exam space and far better than not having one. At the moment, a nearly all-black border collie was on the table. Mia was pretty sure he was one of the guys who’d been captured by Fidel and Sarah. Patrick was holding the shivering dog in place while Dr. Wentworth examined him.
“Hi, Mia,” Megan said, waving her into the small room that had been converted from the backup storage closet during renovations. “This is Dr. Wentworth. He ended up getting here early, so he’s checked out most of the dogs. Dr. Wentworth, this is Mia. She’s our volunteer who was interested in fostering the red merle mom and pup.”
After exchanging a quick hello with the vet, Mia turned to Megan. “Was?”
“Sorry. Not was.” Megan released a little breath. “They’re yours still, of course. And other than being treated for worms, they’re healthy. All of them seem to be. But Dr. Wentworth noticed something about the red merle mom and pup that I didn’t even think of.”
Megan paused and looked at the vet, but he was focused on examining the dog’s ears. “They seem to be deaf,” she said. “Which isn’t a problem, of course. But it’ll involve more extensive tra
ining on your part. Especially when it comes to the little guy. And I know you’re thinking of adopting if it works out, so I wasn’t sure how much you’d want to take on.”
Mia’s jaw fell open. “You know, that explains a lot. I accidentally snuck up on the mom and scared her yesterday, and we got really close to the puppy without him hearing us. And that bark of the mom’s. It’s so loud. I know that’s common in deaf dogs.”
“When he’s finished up with this guy, Dr. Wentworth wants to give you some pointers.”
Mia nodded. “Sure. We’ve had a handful of deaf dogs come through over the years, but I can’t think of any puppies. Other than using hand signals, is training that different?”
“There’ve been two known deaf puppies since I’ve been here,” Patrick said. He was just a little breathless from the effort he was putting out to restrain the young, nervous collie. “Sometimes deafness isn’t detected before they’re adopted, so it’s likely there’ve been more.”
After a quick sideways glance at Patrick, Dr. Wentworth said, “The biggest challenge for deaf puppies is their socialization.” He stood straight again and gave the dog on the table an encouraging scratch on the shoulder.
He had great eyes. Not as melty as Ben’s, but they were very direct. What are you doing, thinking about his eyes? And really, what are you doing thinking of Ben’s eyes right now?
She cleared her throat. “Like puppy playdates and things?”
“Yes. Puppies learn how hard to bite by the squeals of their littermates. Deaf dogs don’t always realize that a puppy who pulls away may be doing so to escape a play bite that’s too intense. This can lead to their littermates not wanting to engage in play with them.”
He paused as if making certain Mia understood, then offered a sympathetic smile.
“At this point, we don’t know if he had littermates. I’m guessing he’s about thirteen weeks, so maybe they were sold off. Since he was clearly raised with a lot of adult dogs, he was most likely taught the lessons he needed when he tried to play with them. If they were gentle enough with him, he should be fine. He doesn’t seem too timid, and that’s a good sign. The mom seems considerably more so, so she may have been dealt a few traumatic lessons early on, but I didn’t notice any tendency to snarl or snap.”
He paused and tapped the exam table with his index finger. “Listen to me. It sounds like I’m trying to talk you out of them. I’m not. Deaf animals make stellar pets. But I do want you to understand that there will be more effort up front.”
Mia nodded. “Last night, I brushed them down and fed them, and everything went fine. They were both as sweet as could be, and the mom was super attentive. The puppy seems like any other three-month-old puppy.”
“So, you’re still interested?” Megan asked.
“Yeah, of course. I don’t mind putting in the extra training effort either.”
The vet ran his hand along the black collie’s back and patted a hip. “Great. Tell you what. Let me finish up with this guy, and we’ll take them somewhere where I can give you some pointers.”
Mia thanked him and headed out of the exam room with Megan. Megan closed the door and ran a hand over her swollen belly. “Girl, I love your heart. I would’ve made the same decision.”
They both headed straight to quarantine without discussing it first. Inside the room packed full of dogs, Mia scrubbed her hands, then knelt in front of the large kennel where the red merle mom and pup were dozing, cuddled together in one corner. The mom must have been in a light doze because she opened one eye and lifted her head. The puppy was out like a light. His legs twitched as if he was running after something. Mia offered her hand for the mom to sniff. “I’m sure you don’t like getting a whiff of our strong soap every time you smell someone, do you, girl?” As soon as she said it, Mia shook her head. “You know, deaf or not, that kind of affectionate talk would be a hard habit to break.”
Megan smiled. “If Sledge were deaf, I’d coo at him just as much as I do now, that’s for sure.”
Mia glanced up at Megan. “So, what do you think of the vet? I was only in there a few minutes, but he seems to really care about the dogs.”
“Yeah, I got that too. I guess time will tell, but he seems to know his stuff. I keep forgetting to do it, but he said we should call him Gabe because when people call him Dr. Wentworth, he thinks his father is in the room and he can’t focus. Only I’m not quite sure if he was serious about the dad thing or if he just has a dry sense of humor.”
“Dry or not, a vet with a sense of humor? And Dr. Washington sold him his practice?”
“Yeah, right. Poor Dr. Washington. I’m going to miss him, but something tells me that with Gabe around, most of the group won’t. At least not the young, single ones. Especially when word gets around he spent a couple years as a firefighter before vet school.”
Mia stood up and pointed a finger. “That explains those broad shoulders a lot more than a set of textbooks.”
It was Megan’s turn to laugh as they headed out of quarantine to wait on the new vet to finish his exam. “Well said, Mia.”
Chapter 10
As she scurried from the storage room to the gift shop with a full box of “I Like Big Mutts” mugs, Mia hummed a rendition of “Bells Will Be Ringing” that sounded more like “Sweaters Will Be Itching.” Why she hadn’t figured out that sewing five yards of holiday tinsel and a few dozen ornaments onto an old green sweater would make for the itchiest thing she’d ever worn, she didn’t know.
Not only was every inch of skin itching from the waist up, but the tinsel was poking through her lined bra and into her boobs. And on top of that, she was exhausted. She was just starting to envision getting Ollie to bed early and soaking in an oatmeal bath when she remembered why she was so wiped out. Through no fault of theirs, Mia had been too wired with excitement by the mom and pup’s first night in the house to sleep much.
The first order of business yesterday had been to help them feel comfortable. Potty training would be a priority, as would introducing them to sign commands. At Dr. Wentworth’s instructions—Gabe’s instructions—Mia was introducing the most important signs up front: sit, stay, look at me, and good job. The signs she’d decided to use to communicate these commands were commonly used in dog training: a closed fist for sit, a hand flat out for stay, the American Sign Language sign for “call me” to get attention directed on her, and thumbs up for good job.
Before bringing them home, Mia had given the dogs baths in the shelter’s wash station. At first, she’d attributed their odor to a swim in the wetlands. After hearing about the house where they’d been living and seeing that they both needed work in the potty-training arena, she suspected the smell had roots much further back than that swim. As she’d bathed them, she’d wondered if perhaps it was their first experience with a bath. More than likely it was the pup’s, but it wouldn’t surprise her to learn it was the mom’s too.
To conquer the daunting but necessary task, she’d asked Patrick to step in and help bathe the puppy. She’d managed to bathe the mom alone and had had no problem. Rather than struggle, the sweet-tempered dog froze from head to tail when she was placed in the wash station. Mia had done her best to make quick work of the bath, though she’d needed to lather and rinse the mom twice. As Mia’s volunteer work had taught her, wet dog was never pleasant, but this wet mom had smelled like a sewer.
As Mia had suspected from their brief encounter, the young mother was as sweet and mild-tempered as dogs came. She’d waited, without a single attempt to struggle away, her only sign of movement a mild tremor rippling across her back and down her haunches, endearing her to Mia even more.
The puppy, on the other hand, had squirmed and struggled and whined loudly enough when his turn came that Mia had paused several times before calling Patrick in to help. She’d never heard a puppy whine that loudly and wasn’t sure if it was because he was deaf—deaf dogs,
especially young ones, were known to have a whole range of vocalizations—or if she might be hurting him. She’d made sure the water was lukewarm, and the shampoo was the gentle, hypoallergenic, all-natural brand that the shelter staff used on puppies.
It wasn’t until his bath was finished, and he whined just as loudly when he’d spotted the towel being draped over him, that Mia decided he must just have a flair for the dramatic.
Once the mom and pup dried out, their mottled brown-and-white merle patches were shiny and attractive, and the smell radiating off them was only mildly off-putting up close. Mia hoped another bath would rid them of it completely, but she’d give them a few days to settle in before attempting a second one.
Last night at home, Mia had focused on getting them introduced to the house and giving them lots of opportunities for potty breaks in the fenced backyard. Before Ollie went to bed, he and Mia had stood with blankets draped around their shoulders as they watched the mom and pup chase each other around in circles in the pale-yellow light from the floodlights. Once, when the mom had stopped short and the puppy tumbled into her and rolled like a roly-poly, Ollie had laughed so hard he’d dropped to his knees clutching his stomach.
Later, when she’d finally gotten Ollie tucked into bed an hour and a half after his normal bedtime, his eyes had popped open as he pulled out of an easy doze. “I was dreaming about Dad. What about calling them Sadie and Sam?” he’d asked.
While it wasn’t the first time Ollie’s good memory had surprised her, Mia had still been caught off guard. Three or four years ago, Brad had pitched an idea for a cartoon series featuring a moose and a grizzly bear named Sadie and Sam. Ollie hadn’t been any older than four when Brad had abandoned the idea for a different one, but she could remember how Ollie had loved sitting at the table at breakfast and asking Brad to sketch the unlikely pair. She wouldn’t have guessed Ollie would remember that.