Glassy eyes caught the sunlight. “He was six when I lost him. A dog that size should be capable of living into its teens. Plus, the vet bills and procedures trying to help him be a healthy dog. So many dogs end up in shelters because owners aren’t informed. There are lots of legitimate reasons for surrendering a dog to a shelter or rescue, but owner inconvenience and a lack of due diligence shouldn’t be among them. It’s not the reputable breeders’ fault shelters are overcrowded. It’s the mills and unprepared owners.” Glancing down, she wiped at her cheeks. “I know the heartbreak unsuspecting owners go through when they pay a small fortune for a mill puppy and unwittingly line some puppy farmer’s pockets.”
It hit home for me. This was personal for Lily. She wasn’t judging. She was trying to educate people to stop others from experiencing the pain she’d been through with her own dog and the fallout that became the unwanted dogs in shelters. My heart hurt for her. I could tell this dog meant the world to her, and she’d lost him too young.
“I’m sorry you went through all that, Lil. I haven’t had CC long at all, but I already know my life is richer, fuller with her in it. I’d be crushed if I lost her now. The love she gives me, it’s pure. Uncomplicated. Unfailing.”
Of its own volition, my hand drifted to her arm and slid until her tiny palm was in mine. “Unconditional.”
“Yes. Inherently good. People don’t...”
I stepped in closer and her eyes drifted up my chest, landing on my face. “Most people either don’t or can’t offer that kind of love.”
Taking a step back, Lil pulled her hand away, crossing her arms over her chest, and the moment was gone. “Look.” She tipped her head in the direction of the dogs.
Jet and CC were running together, playfully nudging each other with their shoulders while Mack tried to insert himself in the middle.
“Poor dude. They’re totally ignoring him.”
Lily grinned. “Oh, don’t you worry about Mack. They’ll come around.”
Chapter Seven
Who the hell talks in hashtags?
Lily
Brody had been watching CC since we left the park. “She doesn’t seem overstimulated now, and her ears are standing up. She’s always so watchful. Every little thing seems to put her on alert.” CC walked on leash beside Brody, buddied up to Jet like she’d been doing it her entire life. “But now, she seems relaxed. I can’t believe it’s that simple.”
I snorted. “It’s not. Some things come more easily than others. Depends on the dog. Right now, she’s physically and mentally too exhausted to give a damn, but some of her caution will return. I think her curiosity will always win out. She’ll always be watchful—that’s ingrained in her DNA. You need to get her out for exercise every day and start exposing her to new surroundings. A tired dog is a good dog.” A thought occurred to me. “Have you had her spayed?”
He nodded. “The emergency vet took care of it when they put her under to stitch the gash closed. They gave her shots, ran heartworm tests and all that. Told me I was lucky she was heartworm negative. She was dehydrated and underweight, but I don’t think she’d been wandering for too long. I need to find a regular vet. I have to follow up with the rest of her immunizations.”
“I’ll give you the name of my vet.”
As the coffee shop in Brody’s building came into view, he seemed antsy. “Got time for coffee? Unless, I mean, you have a class or client or something.”
“Sure, I’ve got some time. And that surrounding will be good for CC. It’s best to expose her to new situations after she’s well exercised. Plus, I wanna talk to you about some of my observations.” It took everything I had not to grin. He sounded like a nervous teenager and I was fairly sure the tips of his ears turned red. Truthfully, I’d been enjoying his company. Probably a little too much. The scene back in the park was...not something I did with my clients. Or anybody, for that matter. I had friends in the dog world who knew Joker’s story, but it wasn’t like me to be quite so transparent. The way Brody and I had connected back there... I’d never been so thankful for Jet’s timing.
Pulling a folded ball cap out of his back pocket, he slapped it on his head. Slipped on the sunglasses he’d hung on the neck of his shirt. After grabbing a table in the shade, I took CC’s leash and Brody went inside to order. By the time he reemerged with our coffee, the dogs were drowsing on the sidewalk.
“I worried about you handling all three dogs. Obviously, I didn’t need to.”
Flicking my gaze up, I took my coffee, and Brody’s lips parted. “Jesus, Lily. Those eyes...”
“It’s not polite to stare, Shaw.”
Brody cleared his throat, stared at my mouth. “Uh, sorry.”
A slow smirk crept across my lips. “I’m messing with you. I’ve gotten that my entire life. They’re unusual. People stare.” I shrugged, sipped my flat white.
“They’re just...arresting. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed them before.”
“We’ve always chatted at night. Not a lot of changes in light.” I felt my cheeks shift to pink. Time to change the subject. “Something occurred to me with CC and Mack’s mill.”
He leaned both elbows on the table. “What’s that?”
“I think there’s a distinct possibility that this mill owner has answered free-to-a-good-home classified ads to find some of their breeding stock.”
One eye squinted as he sunk his teeth into his lip. It was all kinds of yummy. “Why is that?”
“The rescue I got Mack from found a handful of dogs that didn’t get as lucky as Mack. They’d been dumped in the woods back off a road.”
Nostrils flaring, Brody’s lips thinned as his molars got a workout.
“They took pictures for the authorities, and one of them had its ears and tail cropped.”
“Yeah, but a lot of these bully breeds have that, right?”
“Yes, but it’s an extra expense. It’s an aesthetic for a breeding dog. A puppy farmer wouldn’t care about it because they’re never going to let you see their breeding dogs. They could have weaseled them out of legitimate breeders, but that’s expensive. Plus, if they went through the hassle of getting dogs from legit breeders, they wouldn’t cart them out to the middle of nowhere and dump them because they weren’t producing. They’d sell them off at auction or clean them up and advertise them. As scrutinizing as show breeders are about who they give their pups to, mill owners are just as tenacious and deceptive.”
I bit the inside edge of my lip. “I think Mack may have come from an unwitting breeder. He hadn’t had any training when he came to me, but confirmation-wise, he’s a good example of his breed. CC... I’m ninety percent sure someone has worked with her on basic commands.”