Rescue (Emily and Mason) (6 page)

“Uh, right,” I manage to mumble before I turn on my heel to
come face to face with Dr. Warren. Great, now he’s going to think I’m sleeping
with all the women here. He has a slight frown on his face, but he doesn’t say
a word about what he just witnessed in the hall between me and Jesse. Instead,
what he says next shocks me.

“Emily is seventeen, Mason, she’s off limits.” He walks past
me with his sneakers hitting the floor angrily, and I wonder what just happened
here. I was pretty sure that by school Emily meant college, but I guess I was
wrong. She’s in high school, but if she’s in high school how can she volunteer
here so early? That’ll be one of my first questions at our lunch meeting today.

In the meantime, I’m going to master the art of dominating a
Chihuahua without losing my manhood.

Emily

When noon rolls around and I’ve finished cleaning up Bandit
and his buddy the gerbil, I wash up my hands and redo my hair so that it’s not
so messy. Then I make my way to the lunchroom, hoping against all odds that
Mason’s changed his mind since our earlier conversation. Maybe he’ll go out
with Jesse and forget all about me. She’s much taller and filled out in areas
I’m not.

But when I turn the corner to the lunch area and find Mason
sitting there alone, with a bag of Cheetos in front of him, my hopes are dashed
against the rocks. He smiles at me when he sees me, standing like an idiot at
the end of the hallway. I walk the rest of the way down and pull out some cash
from my pocket, getting myself a bag of Doritos and a bottle of orange soda.

“So you do eat lunch,” he muses, making a point of looking
at the clock. It’s about ten minutes past noon. It wasn’t by design that I was
late, mostly just because I was too busy cleaning up Bandit’s mess when he
toppled his water dish after I put it in a second time.

“On occasion I eat, I guess.” I try for a smile; he said he
wanted to be friends. Friends smile at each other, right? I’ve forgotten what
it was like to interact with people on more than professional level. All this
time I think Jesse’s been trying to be my friend, but I had been too stubborn
to allow it.

“On occasion, I’d believe it. I think you should be eating
more than a bag of Doritos for lunch. Do you eat a celery stick for dinner?” I
narrow my eyes at his teasing and pop a chip into my mouth. With his prodding,  I’m
beginning to forget about the fact that he asked me on a date yesterday.

“I eat plenty for dinner, even pizza sometimes. Besides, I
had a large breakfast this morning,” I lie to him smoothly; at least, I think
it’s smoothly. He gives me a knowing look and takes a sip of water.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Neither one of us says
anymore as we munch on our separate bags of chips. I’m wondering if Baby will
be able to handle the people who are going to come in this afternoon or not
when Gail comes in through the door that leads to the outdoors. She looks
relieved when she finds Mason sitting at the table, and pushes her hair out of
her face.

“I’ve left the mother and her pups at home for now in an
extra-large dog crate. But one of them has stopped eating, so I’m going to have
to run some tests. But finish your lunch first; I’ll be in the exam room when
you’re finished.” Mason rolls up his bag of Cheetos and looks at me
apologetically before he answers Gail.

“I’ll be there in a minute, let me just wash my hands.” Gail
nods before she heads back out the door to retrieve the puppy. Mason turns his
attention on me and sits back down in his chair, one leg outstretched towards
mine. “So you’ll be here tomorrow?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. I can’t
help it; I grin back at him and nod. He takes off after that, throwing the
empty chip bag away and washing his hands.

I watch him leave and sit back in my chair, wondering if I
should even be friends with him. Gail comes back in through the lunchroom door
with a small puppy wrapped in a towel cradled to her chest. It’s so much tinier
than I would have imagined!

“Wow, is it the runt?” I ask her as I stand to get a look at
it. Gail looks down at it, worried, and nods. “Do you think maybe I could
help?”

“Sure, you can help me hold it still while I get a blood
sample.” She leads me down the hall to the exam room with the still puppy in
her arms. I’m no expert, but I think it ought to be making some type of
movement by now. There’s a bag hanging off Gail’s arm, and she slides it off as
she sets the puppy down on the exam table. I immediately scoop it up to keep it
from falling off, but I see now that there’s no reason to be afraid of that.
The poor thing is barely breathing.

“It feels cool to the touch,” I tell Gail, and she nods.

“Here, put it down your shirt and hold it close to your chest,
that will warm it up slowly. It’s dehydrated, and I’m going to need to put
fluids under the skin.” Mason chooses the moment I’m putting the puppy down my
shirt to come into the room, holding a can of puppy formula and a syringe. Gail
preps the needle full of fluids and as soon as she turns around I pull the
puppy back out.

Mason takes it from me gingerly and holds is so that Gail
and put fluids underneath the skin, then he hands the puppy back to me, and I
shove it back down my shirt, letting it rest underneath my undershirt against
my skin. I watch the two of them clean up the medical supplies and then Gail
finally turns back around.

“I can’t find anything wrong with it; I’m going to need to
take a blood sample to send off to the lab. Maybe that will tell me something.”
I almost don’t want to give the poor thing back to her, wondering how she’s
going to take blood from such a tiny puppy. But she manages to do it without
making the puppy wake, which worries me. As soon as she’s finished she puts it
back in my arms and I return it to its place.

“You’re our good luck charm, Emily, I hope it works this
time.” I feel a flush creeping onto my cheeks and turn away from them, stroking
my shirt where the puppy is resting.

“I’m going to get some of the kennel cleaned up, it’s
alright if I take it along with me?” I ask her, hoping that she doesn’t tell me
I have to give it back just yet. It’s so tiny it can fit in the palm of my
hand.

“Sure, you can take it home if you want. I’ve got seven
others to deal with and a grumpy mom.” I can’t help but smile as I head out of
the exam room with the little fur ball in my shirt. People are probably going
to look at me funny today, but I don’t really care. It’s nice to feel needed,
to be helping.

Mason follows me down the hall to the dog kennel room and
leans against the doorframe, watching me scrub out a pen with a puppy in my
shirt. His name is called on the intercom system, and he’s paged down to the
medical room again. I’m sure there’s another animal in here that needs a professional’s
help. There’re too many in here that need a professional’s help.

“We’re going to make sure that you’re not here long enough
to get used to one of these pens,” I tell the fuzz ball in my shirt, flipping
it over so that both sides warm up evenly. After an hour it begins to move on
its own, the little toe nails digging into my skin.

When I get to Baby’s cage I feel my nerves tingle and I look
at her sitting in the back, lonely eyes peering at me. I’m not sure if she’ll
take to a puppy, but I feel confident enough to open up the pen door and step
inside. Maybe seeing something so small and fragile will bring her out of her
shell. This could go disastrous, but as long as I radiate trust I know she will
not lash out.

I close the pen door, my hand reaches into my shirt, and I
pull the fuzz ball out. Baby’s ears go flat on her head as she senses my
excitement, her eyes flashing in the dim light. I make hushing noises to the
pup as it begins to make tiny noises, attempting to climb back into my shirt.
Baby takes a few gentle steps forward, and I wait at the other side of the pen,
holding the pup on my lap as I crouch down.

“You have to be nice; it’s had a rough start here just like
you. If you can’t be nice, then I’ll have to put on your charts that you’re not
good with other dogs.” Baby’s ears perk at my voice, and then they tilt down at
the pup as she hears it whine. Her face is curious as she gets closer, and my
heart beat slows to a rhythmic beat. I have to remain calm, or this will all go
wrong.

Mason

I wash the blood off my hands and try not to think about
what just happened. It’s going to happen here more often than not, people
bringing in stray animals that have been hit my cars and thinking that we can
save them. But the way that dog had looked at me before we had to put it under
still makes my skin crawl and my throat clog. I clear it and try to man up, not
wanting to show how much this affects me in front of Taylor Warren.

The veterinarian washes his hands beside me, and I see a
flash of the same anguish I’m feeling on his face. I have a little bit more
respect for the man now that I know an animal’s death affects him the same way.
He’s not a bad guy, just interested in the same girl I am. I wonder for a
second just how old he is. He looks as if he’s in his late twenties, but looks
can be deceiving. Maybe I can get into his personal files to snoop around.

“Gail went home to take care of Daisy and her pups; you want
me to clean some cages?” Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I shouldn’t let a
crush get in the way of a good relationship with my boss.

“As long as you find something worthwhile to do you can stay
on for today. Make sure that all the cages are cleaned, the animals are fed,
and try to clean up any messes so that the adoptees don’t feel as if they’re in
a zoo.” I’m relieved that his petty attitude is gone considering a life just
was lost in front of us. I assume it never really gets easier to have to
euthanize an animal.

There’s only one face I want to see right now. I hope I find
her where I think I will. As soon as I’m done washing my hands I towel them off
and almost bolt out of the room. My stomach’s reeling at the look on that dog’s
face; hopefully a living dog with a girl next to it will cheer me up. My
footsteps are sure as I head down the hall for the dog kennel.

As soon as I get into the room I freeze. Even my heart seems
to realize that it’s too loud and quiets down to a steady pulse, my breathing
caught in my throat. Baby is right on Emily’s heels as she walks down the rows
of cages with the puppy in her hands, wriggling. She’s holding a tiny bottle to
it, supporting it with one hand.

When I finally inhale a breath quietly Baby’s ears flick
back, and she turns her head, her tail hanging loosely. Emily seems to be in
tune with the dog and turns at the same time, her eyes wide when she looks
back. As soon as she sees it’s me she relaxes. I feel a twinge of pride at that
and give her a slow smile.

Baby’s growl knocks me right out of my daydreaming of Emily
and kicks my heart rate up a notch.

“Baby, pen.” Emily doesn’t even have to point. Baby calmly
walks into her pen and turns around at the front, eyeing me with her hackles raised.

“I’m sorry, I kind of ruined her training,” I tell Emily,
taking a hesitant step into the room further. She pulls the bottle away from
the puppy and hands it over to me, shoving the fuzz ball down her shirt. I
can’t help it. I get a glimpse of a hot pink bra strap and feel my gut
tightening.

“No, it was bound to happen at some point. I’m glad it was
you though; anyone else and she might have bitten them. She’s used to your
presence.” A rush of pride has my chest swelling, and I go over to the sink to
rinse out the bottle for her.

An easy silence fills the room as Emily sits down inside the
enclosure opening with Baby, patting her gently and rubbing her ears. I don’t
get too close to the pen, not wanting to put Emily or the puppy in her shirt in
danger by upsetting the German shepherd.

“How long do you think before she’s ready for a home?” Emily
shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly and stands up, pulling the puppy out of her
shirt again. She holds it out to me in question, and I take it, wrapping it up
in the bottom of my t-shirt so that it stays warm.

“It depends. All dogs are different. We had a mastiff in
here that would knock over anything in its sight and bite, no questions asked.
It took me six weeks to get him to stop lunging at the cage bars before I could
even put a foot inside the cage. Baby’s not that bad, really. Any professional
trainer probably could do what I am quicker than I am.” It sounds as if she
doesn’t really understand the magnitude of what she’s doing.

“You’re saving her life; it’s not a small feat.” Emily blushes
at my obvious praise. To give her space, I pull the puppy out of my shirt and
hand it back to her. It’s restless with me anyway. “I’m going to go work on the
Collie over there, she’s up next.”

Just seeing Emily and Baby working together makes me forget
about my earlier pain of having to put down the stray. I won’t mention it to
Emily; I don’t want to ruin her day. She’ll hear about it soon enough, and then
I’ll have to find a way to make
her
forget about it. I think it’ll take
much more than just seeing my face.

I move on to the cage with the Collie in it and grab a
hanging leash by the pen door off a hook. This one’s one of the friendliest
dogs here, and I have a feeling he’ll be adopted much quicker than the rest. I
make him sit before I put on the harness, stroking the silky fur. These dogs
are lucky to have someone who volunteers each day to brush the knots out. Although
at this rate, I suppose I would have enough time to do it myself lately.

Me and Jag walk around the indoor room a few times before we
make our way outdoors. There’s a girl, Penny, who volunteers every day after
school with the larger animals. She’s atop one of the horses, riding around a
small ring with her brunette hair flying out behind her. She’s probably fifteen
or sixteen but looks more like twelve. I wave to her as she passes by, Jag
bouncing at my side.

The rest of the afternoon I don’t have the opportunity to
speak with Emily much more. Once I take Jag in, the rush of people begins and
I’m asked to stay late just to get the final injections done and put in
microchips. I help people get their dogs, cats, a gerbil, and a ferret to their
new owner’s vehicles. Bandit looks super happy to be going somewhere, and I
don’t blame him. He needs more attention than he was getting, even though Emily
spent over an hour with him each day.

The collie I was walking almost immediately finds a new home
as I’m putting him into his pen, a little girl and her father. The gerbil goes
home with a big, burly man who claims the little ball of energy is for his
seven year old son. I’m glad he took the time to look at a shelter first rather
than a pet store, where he could have easily chosen from numerous different,
younger gerbils.