Meant To Be Yours. Susan Mallery
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to the dog, who gulped it down. Jasper quickly scrambled a couple of eggs. Less than ten minutes later, the dog was stretched out on the sofa, completely relaxed and nearly asleep.
Jasper looked up the closest vet’s office and called to explain the situation. The perky receptionist told him they’d just had a cancellation and could see him right away.
“Of course you can,” he muttered.
The drive was easy, there was parking for his RV and damn if the dog didn’t follow him inside the vet’s office with no problem.
Jasper explained the situation to the smiling older woman with a name tag that read Sally. When he got to the part about him giving the dog to a shelter, her smile faded.
“You don’t want to keep him yourself?” she asked.
“Ah, no. I’m not really a pet person.”
Both she and the dog stared at him. Jasper shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t being cruel—rather his reluctance was realistic. He’d been in a really bad place when he’d gotten out of the army. After tons of therapy, medication and stumbling onto the one thing that could get him halfway back to being able to exist in polite society, he was healed enough to pass for normal. But he knew the truth—he would never fully get there. More than one therapist had warned him he was broken beyond repair.
They hadn’t used those exact words—they were too professional for that. But the truth had been clear enough all the same.
But the woman in front of him wouldn’t want to hear that and he certainly didn’t want to tell her.
“I’d like him checked for a chip and maybe given an exam to see if he’s all right,” Jasper said.
“Sure. Let me take you to one of the rooms.”
He and the dog followed her. She paused by a floor scale and motioned for the dog to step on it.
“Come on, boy. Right here.”
The dog obliged. He was forty-eight pounds. Sally winced.
“He should be closer to seventy-five pounds,” she said. “He’s really skinny. Poor guy.”
Jasper and the dog went into an exam room.
“I’ll get one of the techs to come in and scan him. If there’s a chip, we’ll take it from there. If there isn’t, we can talk about whether you want to pay for an exam when you’re just going to take him to the shelter.”
Her tone was pleasant enough but Jasper heard the judgment, all the same. Instead of speaking, he nodded. The woman left and he was alone with the dog.
They both sat and stared at each other. Jasper looked away first.
“You can’t stay on your own,” he said, shifting uneasily in his chair. “Look at you. You need someone to take care of you. A shelter would mean three squares and a bunk, right? And you’d find a family of your own.”
Without wanting to, he recalled reading somewhere that older dogs had trouble getting adopted. Which wasn’t his problem.
“I’ve never had a pet,” he added, glancing at the dog, who still regarded him steadily. “I don’t know how to take care of you.”
He supposed there were books on the subject. Plus, the old guy wasn’t a puppy. He would know how to deal with humans. Between the two of them, they might be able to get it right.
“I’m not a good bet,” he added in a low voice. “I was in the army for eight years and I saw things. Sometimes I have flashbacks and I just... I’m better off alone.”
The dog’s head dropped as if he realized what Jasper was trying to say. As if he’d given up hoping and had accepted he was going to be abandoned—again.
Jasper stood up and glared at the dog, who still didn’t look at him.
“I didn’t want any of this. It’s not my fault. I’m not the bad guy.”
The dog didn’t move—he sat there all hunched, as if the weight of the world was just too much for him.
Jasper thought longingly of his quiet house, the sameness of his life when he was home. He had friends, but on his terms. He had relationships with women. Sort of. He just wasn’t like everyone else and wanting to be different didn’t change the truth.
The dog raised his head and looked at him. In that moment when their eyes met, Jasper would swear he saw down-to-the-bone sadness and despair. It was so real, so visceral, that he felt the anguish as actual pain.
The door to the exam room opened and a petite, pretty, gray-haired woman in a white coat entered.
“I’m Dr. Anthony,” she said with a smile. “For once all my techs are busy and I’m free.” She crouched down and gently patted the dog’s back. “Hey, old guy. How are you? Where’d you find him?”
“At an RV park a few miles from here. They told me he was abandoned a few weeks ago. Apparently he’s been avoiding people, except to beg for food, but he came right into my vehicle.”
Dr. Anthony petted him a little more, before running her hands up and down his legs and along his back as if gently checking for wounds or injuries.
“People can be cruel,” she said as she stood. She pulled a handheld device out of her coat pocket and turned it on. “All right, let’s see if you have a chip.”
Jasper found himself tensing, not sure if he wanted the dog to have one or not. Dr. Anthony ran the reader back and forth a couple of times, checking him closely, then straightening and shaking her head.
“No dice,” she said. “I didn’t think so. Someone who cares enough to get a microchip doesn’t walk away from their pet. Sally said you were going to take him to a shelter?”
Jasper hesitated.
Dr. Anthony gave him a sympathetic glance. “Look, it’s better for him to be there than on the streets. We have a good one nearby. They’ll take care of him. He’s not your responsibility. You did the decent thing, bringing him in. That can be enough.”
Which sounded like permission to do what he knew made sense. Great. He would take the dog there and be on his way.
He opened his mouth to ask for the address, but what he said instead was, “What if I wanted to keep him?”
“You sure?”
Jasper looked at the dog, who stared back at him. He thought about his house up in the mountains and how every now and then, the quiet got to him. He thought about the loneliness he’d seen in the dog’s eyes.
“No, but I think giving him a good home is the least I should do.”
Dr. Anthony smiled. “Okay, then. Are you from around here?”
“California. I’m heading home today.”
“Then I would suggest a brief exam to make sure he’s relatively healthy. I can give you a collar and leash and food that will be easy for him to digest. When you get to your place, find a vet and get him a more thorough exam. You and your vet can discuss what to do as far as vaccinations. He’ll need a few chew toys, maybe a ball and a bed of some kind. He’s an old guy, so he’s going to want to take things easy. Still interested?”
“I am.”
“Good. Now why don’t you put him on the exam table there and we’ll get started.”
“IT MIGHT JUST be okay,” wedding coordinator Renee Grothen murmured softly to herself as she surveyed the wedding reception. She wouldn’t risk admitting everything had turned out as planned until the last guest had left, but four and a half hours in, things were going really well.
Jim