Page 53 of A Furever Home


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“Oh no! Threats!” I managed a smile.

“Believe it.” He hesitated. “You know we’re doing this because we care about you, yeah?”

“I know.” Meeting James, back when we’d both struggled to finish that 5K charity run, was one of the best things that’d ever happened to me.

“Okay. I’ll let myself out. You touch base with your guy.”

He’s not my guy. Even if I wished he was. Eb and Twain followed James to the door, but I trusted him to let himself out safely and make sure the door was latched with my pups on the correct side.

My phone pinged again. Brooklyn hadn’t waited for my answer.

How’s Chili taking the change of venue?

James was right. I couldn’t pretend Brooklyn was just being polite.

I replied,

She’s fine. Misses you. She sniffed around the place and whined at the front door last night. Is Cheyenne okay?

Will be, I think. My parents don’t deserve to get her back. Hopefully my lawyer can make that happen

I did a quick check of my contacts, then offered,

If he can’t, there was a lawyer, Wynn Cavannah, who helped us with the shelter. He seemed really smart

Small world. That’s who I hired. Or small town, I guess

I smiled.

Yeah. Small town

Which made me think of Shane, James, Mama, Joe and Kevin, Danny, plus Neil and all the volunteers, helping me out. There were good sides to that small-town feel.

We kept on texting, ordinary stuff. I told him I’d swapped the crutch for a cane, and he sent me a champagne bottle gif, which I told him was premature. He sent me a brief video of Poppy romping with Jett, while a new little dog lurked in the corner of the yard.

I asked,

Who’s the new baby?

Sadie. It’s her first time here. She’s very shy with people, but the other dogs seem to perk her up

I peered closer at the screen.

What kind of dog is she? A terrier mix of some kind?

Brooklyn called me on video chat and after a second of hesitation, I switched over. “Not sure,” he said, aiming his camera at the little dog to give me a better look.

She had wiry beige-and-white hair, half-flopped ears, and a long, pointed nose. From the little I could see, she seemed thin, perhaps ten pounds in weight. When the other two romped past, they dwarfed her.

Brooklyn guessed, “Maybe some Maltese? The woman who brought her just said ‘a little mutt.’”

I flinched. “That’s not very kind.” Even if it was descriptive.

“Yeah, I didn’t like the owner much. She didn’t even say goodbye to Sadie like most people do, but she signed off on the fee schedule.”

“How long do you have Sadie?”

“Technically, she was supposed to go home an hour ago. The owner’s late.”