The middle-aged redhead wore her long hair piled into a twist. With her white coat and efficient air, she was a bit intimidating, until her brown eyes landed on the creature in Dana’s arms.
“Hello, friend, what can you tell us about yourself?”
The gentleness with which the older woman handled the stray, the way she treated him like a person, instead of a lesser being, endeared her to Dana.
“He looks to be in perfect health,” the doctor said after a thorough examination. “I’m guessing he’s somewhere between four and six months old. Temp is normal, heart sounds good. Gums are healthy. Teeth, too. No fleas or skin infestations, no signs of internal parasites or worms in the sample you brought in. His eyes and ears are clear. His coat’s healthy. He’s certainly got a good disposition.”
Dana could vouch for that. Standing at the table, opposite the doctor, Dana asked, “What breed do you think he is?”
“He’s got some Lab in him. And, I think, poodle.” Dr. Tate smiled. “Do you have any interest in keeping him?”
“I can hang on to him for a little while. But I live in a duplex. And he’s going to get big, isn’t he?” Please tell me I’m wrong, that his big paws are just a fluke.
“I’d guess at least fifty pounds. Maybe more.”
“He’s got a rabies tag,” Dana pointed out.
“I know,” Cassie Tate Montford said. “We’re checking on that now, but since no one’s called looking for him, my guess is he’s been abandoned.”
He was too sweet to have been abandoned. Someone loved him. Was worried about him. Probably putting up lost-dog signs all over the neighborhood. She hadn’t seen any, when she’d driven around town looking for them after class on Thursday. But she probably just hadn’t landed on the right neighborhood. “I have a kitty...”
“Right. Kari. I read Zack’s notes on her. And a hamster, too, I saw.”
“Some kids in my freshman biology class were talking about having gotten him for their dorm and then found out they couldn’t keep him.”
“Freshman biology?” the doctor asked. Petting the dog, she said, “If you’re in school full-time, and working, it might be hard to take care of a new puppy.”
“I don’t work,” she blurted. “I’m here on a full scholarship, including living expenses. And I’ve been working in my family’s furniture business back home for the past six years. I’ve got savings....”
When she realized she was babbling, she shut up.
Curiosity flashed across the doctor’s expression. “You’re scholarship includes living expenses?” The veterinarian sounded surprised by that fact.
“Yes.” So? Little Guy was getting restless, and Dana lightly scratched his chest in between his two front paws. It was his favorite spot—as she’d discovered during the middle of the night when she couldn’t get him to stop whining in the bathroom and go to sleep. He’d done just fine in her bed.
“Did you apply for the scholarship?”
“No.” She frowned. “Why?”
“It’s just that...I know someone else...the fiancé of a friend of a friend.” Cassie Tate Montford chuckled. “He’s also here this semester on a scholarship with full living expenses included, and those kinds of scholarships are few and far between. He didn’t apply for his, either, and he has no idea where the scholarship came from. He’s convinced his grandmother set it up, but if you got one, too, that’s probably not likely. Unless you know him. Mark Heber?”
“I’ve never heard of him. Is he from Indiana?”
“No. It’s probably just some kind of national program set up by a private benefactor. Private meaning whoever donates the money wants to remain anonymous. I’ve just...no one here has ever heard of this before and now we have multiple recipients in one semester.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. Dana didn’t really care how the scholarship had come to be—only that it was. “I’m pretty sure my mother applied for it on my behalf,” she offered because of the tenderness the older woman was showing to Little Guy. “Anyway, I’m fine, financially, as long as I watch my spending. I can certainly afford dog food and vet bills until we find a home for him.”
“We have a pet placement program here at the clinic. If you were to keep him, it probably won’t be long before—”
“I, actually...wanted to talk to you about that,” Dana said. Zack had mentioned the pet placement program when she’d brought the kittens in to be seen. And again after she’d joined his and his wife’s pet-therapy program at school. “Dr. Foster mentioned that you needed someone to temporarily house unwanted pets. Also people who’d be willing to travel to new adoptive homes to make sure the new owners weren’t overwhelmed and to check on the general well-being of the pet.”
The doctor smiled. “That’s right. We’re looking for another pet placement counselor. But the job is volunteer only. I’m assuming Zack explained that there aren’t any funds to pay you. Are you interested?”
“Yes,” Dana said without hesitation.
“Great, since Zack already offered you the position, I don’t need any other reference. I’ll have our receptionist, Hope, sign you up.” Dr. Tate grinned and added, “We have a pet-therapy program, too. It’s part of a club through the university. Zack and his wife head it up. I’m guessing he mentioned it to you?”
“He did,” Dana said. “I’m already a member.”
The doctor nodded. “In the meantime, let’s wait until we hear back about the rabies tag and go from there. If you’d like to see Hope about the counselor position while you’re waiting, we’ll be all set.”
Dana was settled in a chair in the waiting room, a packet filled with pet counselor information on her lap. She was watching a rerun of a dog whisperer show on the flat-screen television on the wall, when the door to the clinic opened.
Little Guy jumped down from her lap and darted the full extent of his leash to jump up on the man who was taking off his sunglasses as he walked toward the reception desk. Dana yanked on the puppy’s leash just as the stranger stepped back, right onto Little Guy’s foot. The puppy squealed and peed on what looked to be a very expensive leather shoe.
Before she had time to react, the inner door opened and Dr. Tate Montford emerged.
“Ms. Harris? We just heard... Oh!” The doctor noticed the stranger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the bell and Hope’s out back. Can we help you?”
By the time her eyes dropped to the man’s shoe, Dana had grabbed a wad of paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and, with the little guy’s leash tightly held in one hand, was cleaning up the man’s expensive leather with the other.
“I can take care of that,” the man said, his voice friendly as he bent down to her level.
She held on to the towel. “I should have watched him better. I’m so sorry.” Dana looked up from the shoe and into the most
