“Is there a good pet store in town?” Cheyenne eyed the food she’d prepared, then added shredded chicken on top.
I nodded. “There’s B&B. Bales & Bowls. They’re amazing.” I’d acquired so many toys from them that they gave me a professional discount. “I can ask them if they’ll take some of my new brochures while we’re there.” I was impressed that I’d thought of my business, with everything going on. “Okay, let’s feed the pooch.”
We headed for the family room.
I held up a hand to stop Cheyenne. “I’ll take the bowl and go in.”
“I’m coming.” She clutched the bowl tight to her chest.
“The dog’s unpredictable. We don’t want you to be injured under my supervision. That’s a quick way to land you in someone else’s care.”
“I’m coming.”
God save me. Please. “At least stay back.” Because life was too short to stand and argue.
“Yep.”
Sadie had been pressing her nose to the mesh of the big crate I’d enticed her into as we approached the family room, but when I opened the gate, she backed into the far corner, her eyes tracking our every move. We stepped inside the room, and once the latch was secured, I held out my hand for the bowl.
“I’ll offer this to her. Go sit in your chair. With your legs up.”
“You’re going overboard. She’s a lovely dog.”
Said dog growled.
I tensed.
Cheyenne crooned, “Poor baby,” and told me, “She’s hungry—you’ve got food. I’d be growling too.”
“Fine. Chair.”
Amazingly, she did as bade—sitting crosslegged in the chair I now thought of as hers.
I placed the bowl of tuna on the floor just in front of Sadie’s crate, then I opened the door and stood aside.
The dog, with her ears back, glanced from Cheyenne to me and back to Cheyenne. Finally, she stepped out and made her way to her food. The first bite was more of a nibble as she tested the food. Almost like she thought we might be poisoning her. Slowly, though, she started eating bigger bites.
I let out the breath I’d been holding as she finished the entire bowl and then licked it. Okay, next challenge. I snagged a slip leash and gently reached toward her. She dodged back with a lifted lip.
For a moment, I wished Arthur was there. I imagined how he’d coax her with that deep low voice that made dogs want to trust him. And not just dogs. I imagined him using Chili—well, maybe not Chili, but Eb or Twain—to keep this scared little dog company and make her feel at home. He should be here. My house felt empty, even with Wynn and Cheyenne and Sadie there…
I gave myself a mental shake. I’d known Arthur all of ten days. He wasn’t an essential part of my household. No matter how I felt. Focus on the job staring up at you with little brown eyes.
“You need to go peepee,” I pointed out. “So we’ll go outside now. Cheyenne will refill your water bowl and if you’re really good, I might have a treat for you.”
Sadie’s ears perked.
“Treat?” I dug in my pocket for the bites of soft beef treats I kept there and tossed her a tiny one.
Watching me with extreme caution, she extended her neck and lipped it up.
“Good girl. Treat?” I held out the next one on my palm, barely breathing. After a moment, she took two steps forward and ate it. Then backed up, but only one step.
“Treat?” After three more bites, when she’d stopped jumping back, I brought the leash out again. “Walkies?”
She tilted her head, one ear cocked higher than the other, but didn’t growl. I eased the loop around her neck and dropped a treat for her before she could panic. When she ate it and didn’t freak out, I straightened and used my happiest voice. “Good girl! Walkies! Go pee!”
She allowed me to guide her to the patio door.
