Forever comes in threes, p.11
Forever Comes in Threes, page 11
“Tucker, sit.”
Molly and JT sat in a show of pack solidarity, but Tucker lay flat on the floor and rolled onto his back. She tried to sit him up, but he was as limp as a debutante pretending to have the vapors.
“Christ almighty.” Swearing under her breath wasn’t helping, but at least it drowned out small snorts of laughter coming from Ming, who had clamped her hand over her mouth when Tucker flung himself to the floor.
By the time she managed to get the harness on him anyway, she was chuckling too at his antics. And when she rubbed his chest and announced “all done,” he jumped up and led the stampede to the front door, ready for wherever they were going. Perry laughed. “You little shit.”
She checked that she had her phone and house keys, then joined Ming and the dogs at the door. Ming handed her Molly’s and Tucker’s leashes.
“I’ll take JT,” Ming said. “He tends to wander back and forth and get everybody crossed up.” She handed Perry a small plastic bag of soft dog treats. “Use these to reward good behavior or to distract them from situations that could become difficult. I’ll tell you when to hand them out.”
Perry put her hand on the door, stopping Ming from opening it. “I think I deserve a treat for my stellar dog-harnessing performance.”
Ming’s posture went from friendly to sultry. “Do you?”
She inched into Ming’s personal space. “I am the alpha in this house. Ming, kiss.” Her command was soft instead of forceful, her lips intentionally light on Ming’s. She ran her tongue along Ming’s lower lip but withdrew without deepening the kiss. She wanted to savor each tiny step with this woman in a way she never had, never wanted before. Then she reconsidered and had dipped her head for a second serving of those tasty lips when a sharp bark caused them both to flinch. Perry looked down, and three furry faces stared back. Then JT barked to back up Molly’s interruption.
Something odd flashed in Ming’s velvet-brown eyes. Indecision? Regret? God, Perry hoped not. Then it was gone as quickly as it came. The corner of Ming’s mouth quirked up, and amusement filled her eyes. “Your pack grows restless.”
Perry heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay. We’re going.”
Though Perry tried to play their kiss off as casual, Ming’s warm lips and peppermint breath plowed through her like a six-foot, tractor-drawn tiller, digging up long-buried desire and emotions. She was so engrossed in puzzling out how her forward advance in their flirtatious tête-à-tête had left her feeling like the sacrificed lamb, she was surprised to look up and see the park teeming with pets and people as they neared. Molly barked and strained against her collar to join them. JT hesitated, apparently torn between his duty to be at Molly’s side and his desire to hide behind Ming and Perry. Tucker reversed course and headed for the security of the condo. When his leash pulled him up short, he jumped against Perry’s leg in a frantic pick-me-up-now dance while keeping up a running commentary of sharp whines and worried grunts.
Perry stooped to reassure him with quiet words, but he was clearly determined, so she wrapped her arms around him and picked him up as she stood. “What’s going on? The dog park is never this busy.”
Ming cleared her throat. “I meant to tell you, but we sort of got off track when you waylaid me at the door. A big adoption event is being held today. Several of the rescue groups I work with are here.”
Something inside Perry stuttered. “So, these guys could go home with someone else today?” She’d be glad to get rid of them, right? She didn’t have time for one dog, much less three. It was just, well, she’d kind of gotten used to talking to someone other than the smart-house computer. And who knew that dogs had an internal clock like she did? They woke her at the same time every morning, exactly two minutes before her alarm. They expected their daily bite of cheese, even though they watched her conceal pills in it, right after they went outside to pee. And they politely waited for her to sit down with her dinner plate before they dove into the food she put down for them.
“They might meet some potential adopters but won’t be able to go home with anyone today because we have to get their veterinary papers in order and test them for compatibility with children, cats, and other pets that could be in a household,” Ming said. “And if the potential adopter hasn’t already been cleared, the sponsoring rescue group would want to check out their home situation to make sure they could care for them appropriately.”
The pinch in her gut eased, and she realized she had Tucker in an iron hug, so she relaxed her arms, and he gave her a grateful lick on the chin. “Okay. I mean, you know, we don’t have any of their stuff here for anyone to take them today.”
Ming turned to her, and Perry froze, caught in the middle of planting a kiss on the top of Tucker’s head to reassure him. Heat suffused her neck and cheeks.
“You could always change your mind and keep them,” Ming said. “They are comfortable with you. Tucker has obviously bonded with you.”
“No, no. Can’t. I’m too busy. I don’t know anything about keeping dogs. Besides, when things fully reopen, I’ll probably be traveling at least two weeks out of every month again. Who would take care of them?”
Ming nodded but didn’t appear convinced. “Of course, we’re all assuming life will someday go back to the way it was before the pandemic.” Her eyes glazed, as if her thoughts were far away for a moment. “The impact on so many things could be devastating—like performance arts, sporting events such as the Olympics, and international tourism. It’s hard to imagine never going to a local arts festival, a concert or a movie theater, a Broadway play, or a March Madness college basketball tournament.” She looked at Perry. “You are vaccinated, aren’t you? Did I already ask?”
“I don’t think you’ve asked, but I am. I required everyone in my company to be. Luckily, I had no objectors. And, since you’re a doctor, I’m taking for granted that you are, too?”
“Of course.”
Molly’s sharp, happy bark cut through the cacophony of conversations, yaps, and cat yowls coming from two semi-trailers, where crates of potential feline adoptees were stacked for viewing. JT was quiet but constantly wound between their feet, so walking without stumbling required a lot of concentration.
“You can make Tucker walk. He’ll be okay after a few minutes,” Ming said.
Although Perry’s arms were tiring, Tucker’s heart pounded against her chest, and he pressed his head into her shoulder at the slightest indication she might be about to put him back on the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the terrified little guy. “He’s fine. Light as a feather,” she lied.
Ming didn’t look convinced, but before she could respond, a young man approached with a middle-aged woman in tow. He waved at Ming.
“There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Are these the pups?”
“Yes,” Ming said. “The happy barker is Molly. We estimate her age at thirteen years. We feel pretty accurate about the ages of the two boys since they were puppies when they were rescued.” She pointed to JT, who was sitting quietly at her feet. “This is JT, and my friend, Perry, is holding Tucker. JT is nearly eight years old, and Tucker is around ten.”
“Hi, Perry. It’s nice to meet you,” Danny said. “So, no spring chickens here.”
“The boys aren’t that old.” Perry squatted to scratch Molly’s ears while still holding Tucker. “Sorry, Molly. Didn’t mean to put you in the old-folks category.”
“Unfortunately,” Danny said, “she does fall in that range, which will make her hard to adopt. Few people want to take a dog they know they’ll have only long enough to become attached to, then lose them to death. But then we do have some kind souls and some fosters who are willing to give these old dogs a loving and comfortable home for their final years.”
She still objected. Sure, Molly needed help getting onto the bed, and she had a bad knee on her right hind leg. But she was a great huntress, and when she was feeling playful in the evenings, she could throw her bone almost waist high in the air. This guy made it sound like she was ready for hospice care.
“There are a lot of people and animals here,” Ming said, eyeing clusters of both.
“I have a quiet spot for you guys over behind the cat trailers. There’s a bench, and it’s enclosed with a temporary fence, so you can let these guys off leash. I’ll send some potential adopters your way and let Ming handle them.” He looked at Perry. “She knows what questions to ask.”
“I have my iPad to add any remarks on the people who come to look at them,” Ming said.
Danny gave her a thumbs-up. “Go right around that trailer, then. Your spot has the green ribbon tied to the gate.”
Behind the two large trailers, they found a series of portable wire pens, most eight feet by eight feet, with a couple of folding chairs inside. The one with a green ribbon tied to its gate was eight by thirteen, about three feet high, and had been put together around a park bench.
“I guess we get the big pen because we have three dogs,” Perry said.
“I’m sure.” Ming opened the gate and led all of them inside. She unhooked Molly’s lead, then JT’s, and they began exploring the grass and fence. Perry unhooked Tucker, but he still sat next to her on the bench until curiosity got the best of him, and he hopped down to explore with his packmates.
A young couple with a boy about four or five years old approached, but the child cringed against his mother’s legs when Molly barked her happy greeting.
“Hi.” Ming stood and acknowledged the couple. “Were you looking for a dog to adopt?”
The father answered while the mother spoke softly to the kid. “Yes. We were thinking a medium-sized one. Something sturdy that would bond and grow up with our son. I had a dog when I was a boy, and he was my best friend.” He pointed to JT. “How old is that guy? He looks friendly.”
“Actually, he’s almost eight years old and the youngest of the three. But he’s very friendly,” Ming said.
The mom finally convinced the boy to come to the fence, and he giggled when he stuck his fingers through the wire and Molly licked them. JT wagged his tail and stood on his hind legs so the man could reach over the fence to scratch his ears. But when the child approached, he dropped to the ground and backed away.
“They haven’t been tested around children yet,” Perry said. “So he’s probably just not used to them. JT will growl at other dogs if they come near his food, but he hasn’t growled at me. I’m not sure what he’d do around a kid. Their owner was a single, older woman who didn’t have children.”
“Why’d she give them up?”
“She died unexpectedly. She was a colleague of my mother, so I’m trying to help find them a new home.”
“Oh, that’s so sad,” the woman said. “That one is so cute. You said his name is JT? Is he housebroken?”
Perry shrugged. “Yes and no. He has peed in my house several times but never pooped.”
The woman nodded. “That’s why we should either get a puppy we can train early, a female dog, or a larger male dog,” she said to her husband. “The smaller and older the dog, the harder it will be to train him if he isn’t already fully housebroken.”
“You’re right,” he said.
“There’s a litter of Labrador-mix puppies over that way.” Perry pointed helpfully to the far corner of the adoption area where a small crowd was gathering. “You might want to hurry over before they’re all claimed.”
The man looked where she pointed, then grabbed his son and swung him onto his shoulders. “Thanks. I think we will.” He trotted off, his kid squealing in delight at the impromptu ride, and his wife jogging to keep up while her warnings that a Labrador puppy might not be a good idea fell on deaf ears.
An older woman, her leathery skin covered with tattoos, hurried over and greeted Ming. “The guy from the Fresno shelter is here and wants to talk to us about a couple of dogs he thinks are worth pulling before their time runs out. Can you bring your iPad, and let’s see if we can place them with a foster?”
“Sure.” Ming turned to Perry. “Cheryl, this is Perry. She’s fostering these three while we search for a home for them. Perry, this is Cheryl. She heads up the rescue group for the fiercest and hardest to adopt of all breeds.”
Perry’s brain immediately went to pit bulls, because Cheryl reminded her of one. She probably had a leather jacket adorned with gang colors draped over a Harley parked somewhere nearby. In the small Southern town where Perry had spent summers with her grandparents, pit bulls were called junkyard dogs because they were favored to patrol junkyards and construction yards to keep thieves out at night. Cheryl must have read her mind, because she pointed her finger at Perry.
“Nope. Not pit bulls. Everybody thinks that.” She slid a backpack carrier from her shoulder and set it on the ground to free a tiny chihuahua.
The small dog immediately poked out his chest and strutted over to pee on the enclosure near where JT sat. JT jumped to his feet, tail high, and stood very straight and tall, his ears pricked in a surprised, who-is-this-interloper expression. He approached the chihuahua to sniff where he’d peed, then immediately urinated on top of it. This got Tucker’s attention, who came over to add his contribution. Molly wasn’t interested in their male show of marking territory. She strolled over and thrust her nose through the wire to sniff the little invader. Dog or odd-looking rat? The miniature Godzilla didn’t wait for introductions. He roared like a tiny lion and nipped Molly’s nose, which transformed the benevolent queen into an oh-no-you-didn’t attack ninja.
“Killer, you little shit, come here.” The chihuahua dodged when Cheryl tried to scoop him up and defuse the confrontation, then made the bad decision to take another run at Molly, who grabbed his ear that poked through the fence and hung on. Luckily, the fence prevented a melee when the boys jumped in, barking ferociously to defend their queen.
Perry jerked Molly’s collar and shouted above the dogs’ frantic barks and Killer’s howls of pain. “Molly, leave it. Sit.” No one seemed more surprised than Perry when Molly immediately released the chihuahua’s ear, and the three dogs Perry had already dubbed The Terrors all sat and looked up at her.
“Damn. I’m sorry about that. You see why chihuahuas are so dangerous,” Cheryl said. “The little shits have a St. Bernard-sized temper and the arrogance of a chow. People get them because they think a little dog will be easy to care for, but they’re the toughest to housebreak, incredibly territorial, and not good around children because they bite a lot. So, a lot of them end up in shelters.”
What the hell? Perry stared at the biker woman. “You run a chihuahua rescue?”
Cheryl stuffed Killer back into his backpack carrier. Perry could see now that it was mostly made of black mesh that the dog could see through. “Yep. Got the bite scars to prove it.” She held out her tanned hand, which was dotted with white puncture-wound scars.
Ming fished her iPad from her messenger bag. “Do you mind if I go with Cheryl for a few minutes?” She took a small note pad and pen from the bag and laid it on top. “If anyone comes by, just answer any questions they have about the dogs, and get their name and phone number so I can call them later if they’re truly interested in the dogs.”
“No worries. Go. And take that killer dog with you before Molly has to teach him another lesson.” Perry put her hands on her hips in mock indignation, and Molly gave a sharp bark for emphasis. This warning inspired JT to bark at Molly, his signal to start a victory sing-along. Molly lifted her nose to the sky and gave a full-throated howl any beagle would be proud of, while Tucker added his less refined tenor, and JT joined in with his strangled attempt. Perry was tempted to add her own deeper howl, just for harmony, to the ruckus, but other dogs around the adoption area were starting to bark and join the noise, so she quieted her charges.
“Do you want us to get arrested for starting a riot?” she asked the dogs. Molly seemed to consider this possibility, but JT hopped around barking. He was evidently eager to restart the fun chorus, but Tucker used his body to push JT away and growled. “It’s okay, Tuck. Let’s all sit down.” When did she begin talking to the dogs like they were people? Perry shook herself, then looked up to see a young woman approaching.
“Hi. I’m Gigi.”
Perry shook Gigi’s offered hand, and then they laughed when they both took small bottles of hand sanitizer from their pockets to squirt onto their fingers. “Always pays to be safe, even if the pandemic is supposed to be under control now.”
“I agree,” Gigi said.
“Are you looking to adopt?”
“Yes. I graduated from Stanford last year and have been working for a local programing company. I wanted to wait until I was sure my job was stable, and it is. Now I’m ready to add some companionship to my life.”
“These are active guys. Do you live in an apartment?”
“No. I rent a really cute little house with a fenced backyard and have the option to buy it if I want.”
When Gigi bent over the three-foot fence and held her hand out, Molly and JT rushed to greet her. Tucker held back, ducking behind Perry’s legs.
“Aw, are you being shy?” Gigi squatted to put herself more on Tucker’s level, but he looked away, rejecting her overture.
Perry liked her gentle voice and the way she greeted the dogs. “Would you like to come inside the fence to get to know them better?”
“Yes. If you don’t mind.”
Perry nearly tripped over Molly and JT as they enthusiastically escorted her to the gate to admit Gigi, who plopped down onto the grass and let them crawl and lick all over her. Her gaze, however, followed Tucker, who continued to hang back, adamant in his rebuff. She sat up when Molly and JT calmed and gestured to him.
