that include Officer Maisie Murran? Elissa hoped so—both because she liked the woman and what she did, and because Maisie had indicated she’d like to participate, or at least watch.
Too bad her brother hadn’t seemed interested.
Enough. Elissa had to erase Doug from her thoughts. She had only just met the guy. He might actually be the kind of person she would detest or despise.
Although she doubted it. How could a dog aficionado like him be so terrible...?
Good. She saw the sign for her exit in San Luis Obispo. It was about time.
A few minutes later she drove along the nearest major road toward her house. She soon pulled off onto her street and drove up the driveway to the small, aging stucco house she had rented. She’d found it almost immediately after she had moved here and, though she had some problems with its electrical system sometimes, she had remained, considering it home. Her landlord was nice, though slow to respond to her requests, and so far he hadn’t raised the rent too much—so far being the operative words. He’d been hinting lately that a substantial increase would be imposed soon.
Elissa pushed the button to open the garage door and waited while it creaked upward till it stopped. She drove her SUV in, picked up her purse from the passenger seat and opened her door.
And expected to hear Peace’s cheerful barks welcoming her home. That was what the sweet girl always did.
But not now.
Immediately, Elissa began to worry. Was Peace there? Was she okay?
Was Elissa worrying for nothing? After all, the poor dog could just be in a deep sleep at the far side of the house and not heard her.
But Elissa wanted to find out for herself. She pushed the button on the wall to close the garage door and used her key to unlock the windowed entry door beside it. She couldn’t see into the kitchen because of the taut draperies on the inside of the door that she’d installed for privacy and security.
She hurried through the door into the cramped and outdated kitchen. Peace barked and leaped toward her on the dingy linoleum floor, then crouched and looked at Elissa. No longer barking, she began circling the kitchen. Its door into the house was shut, which was unusual, but Elissa sometimes closed it with Peace inside. She must have done so this morning.
That didn’t explain Peace’s actions. What was going on? This was all entirely uncharacteristic of her sweet and sociable dog.
“Peace, are you okay?” There were times she wished she could hold conversations with her lovable pup and this was one of them. Instead of stopping and sitting and acting normal, Peace sprinted out of the kitchen the moment Elissa opened the door.
Throwing her small purse down on the kitchen table, Elissa hurried to follow. Peace wasn’t really a puppy, but nearly three years old. She was smart. She was fast. And Elissa felt exceptionally close to her thanks to their therapy work.
Right now Peace was popping into each room of the house as she reached it down the center hallway: the living room, the bathroom, the guest bedroom and then the master bedroom. She sometimes sniffed the floor, sometimes kept her nose on the ground, all the time appearing as if she was tracking something—and tracking wasn’t one of the many skills she’d learned to become a therapy dog.
“Peace,” Elissa kept saying softly, rubbing her dog’s soft, furry back each time she got close enough. “What is it?”
Eventually, whether because of exhaustion or running out of places to explore, Peace stopped dashing around. She wound up in the living room, on the polished wood floor, next to the tan sofa on its deep-colored wooden frame. The colorations went well with Peace’s golden coat—usually. Right now, the way Peace was panting, all Elissa could do was worry about her.
She knelt on the floor beside her dog, bending to hug her tightly. “Are you okay, girl? What’s wrong?”
Of course Peace didn’t answer.
Or maybe she did. She put her head up and licked Elissa’s cheek.
Hopefully that meant she was all right now.
Elissa wasn’t sure. And she would do everything she could to take the best care of her beloved dog.
It was early morning. Elissa was back in her SUV, driving up the mountain once more toward the Chance K-9 Ranch. This time she wasn’t alone. Peace was tethered safely in the back seat.
The sweet dog was quiet. Finally resting. Sleeping at last.
Elissa hadn’t gone to bed for a while the previous night, still trying to understand her poor pup’s continued restlessness.
She’d taken Peace for a walk but only a short one, since her moderate-size dog pulled on her leash a lot, despite being told to heel and to stay—something else that wasn’t characteristic of her.
Back inside the house Peace had again moved from room to room, as if seeking something. The source of some scent that only she, and not her concerned owner, was aware of?
That’s what Elissa had guessed. And of course that worried her.
So neither of them had slept well. Each time Elissa had woken, which was often, she’d heard Peace stirring on her fluffy bed on the floor beside Elissa’s.
Elissa used that as her reason to get up even earlier than she’d originally planned to walk Peace once more. The quiet residential area had seemed normal to her, with a few well-recognized neighbors outside, some also walking their dogs.
Peace had seemed somewhat calmer but still did more pulling than was usual for her.
Returning back inside, Elissa had showered, changed into the outfit she’d planned to wear for her demonstration, then fed them both a quick breakfast and gotten on the road.
And made herself concentrate on how she would perform her demonstration—or, rather, the best way to encourage Peace to show off how wonderful a therapy dog she was.
It was early enough that traffic wasn’t heavy, although, as always in this sometimes busy southern California area, she wasn’t the only one on the road, either. She stayed just above the speed limit, though now and then another car had passed her on the freeway—less so on the narrower mountain roads.
Finally she reached the turnoff toward Chance. She decided to take a quick drive through downtown, past the local hospital.
As she slowed, Peace awakened and sat up. “Good girl,” Elissa said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay now?”
Peace was quiet and calm, and appeared like her usual self. Elissa took that to mean a positive response.
She soon stopped at a traffic light and turned onto the street that would take her past the hospital. When she’d looked it up on the internet and gotten the address, she had seen that there was an entire floor devoted to pediatric patients, and another area dedicated to seniors—both age groups that were excellent focuses for therapy dogs.
If all went well and Peace and she were hired, she would definitely introduce herself to the hospital administration and offer to do some demonstrations there soon.
The
