Her boy had suffered too much in his young life. He’d come with her from Colorado, where his rescuer had found him tied to a post in the middle of a muddy yard and brought him to the clinic where she’d been working as a resident. The collar around his neck was so tight it was cutting into the skin around it. He had no shelter. A bowl of food sat beside him but he couldn’t eat it because his mouth had been duct-taped shut. Normally able to keep it together even in the worst of cases, Mia lost it with George, allowing her tears to fall as she removed first the collar and then those layers of tape from his muzzle. The dog had whined in pain but never snapped. When she finished, he’d licked her hands and her cheek, and stolen her heart. They’d been together ever since.
Mia sat. George followed suit, placing his head on her lap and slobbering on her pants.
Scratching behind his ears and caressing the scarred skin of his neck, she said, “I love you, Georgie. You’re the best dog ever. How was your nap?”
He yawned and smacked his jaws.
“That’s great news, buddy. Sleep is important. Scientists are telling us it’s almost as important as nutrition when it comes to health and longevity. You can thank Grandma Nora for that bit of helpful trivia. Speaking of nutrition.” She removed two “cookies” from the canister on her desk and handed one over. He flopped beside her on the floor and began chomping. The rescued dog, who had been napping on the sofa, was now watching Mia with alert brown eyes. Mia wheeled her chair closer and offered her a cookie. Not interested. Mia’s stomach did a nervous twist. The dog had been uninterested in pretty much everything since Mia had taken her out of Jay’s arms. She was worried, although her initial exam had revealed her to be in good health.
She opened her email to see if the dog’s blood test results had come back. She scrolled down the list until she located the one from the lab. Clicking on it, she felt a niggle of apprehension as she analyzed the numbers. Turning again, she smiled at the dog, who, as if sensing the gravity of the situation, lifted her head and let out a whine. Mia stood, walked over and scooped her up.
“Congratulations, cutie, you are as healthy as can be. Mr. Rennick might have been a loner, but clearly, he loved his girl, huh?” The dog answered by nudging Mia’s chin with her muzzle. “Now we just need to find you a new home. What are the chances that handsome Coast Guard flight mechanic will take you in? He definitely likes you. I think you’d be great together.”
She looked up as a knock sounded on her door, followed by a “Hey, Mia? You got a second?”
“Sure, Ted. Come in.”
Her partner, mentor, friend and fellow veterinarian, Dr. Ted Anthony, walked into her office. Medium height and lean-muscled, Dr. Anthony was in his fifties but looked at least a decade younger. His head of wavy brown hair didn’t have a speck of gray, and Mia thought that helped his ageless cause as well. George met him with a lazy woof and a wet sniff of his kneecap, his signature greeting.
Ted chuckled and patted the dog’s head. Nodding toward the bundle in her lap, he asked, “How’s our Coast Guard heroine doing?”
“Good. Wound is stitched, tests are clear, she’s good to go. She’s awfully droopy, though. I’m a little concerned.”
“That was quite an ordeal she went through. Probably still a bit traumatized.”
“Yeah, could be.” She carried the dog back over to the sofa, where she immediately settled in for a nap.
As she crossed the room, Mia noticed the fine lines around Ted’s reddish eyes. He looked tired, she thought, and immediately felt silly for thinking that. Of course he was tired; his daughter was fighting a serious, incurable disease where the only treatment currently available was one to alleviate her symptoms. He and his wife were driving back and forth to Portland for doctor appointments and therapy at regular intervals. They were all handling it better than Mia could ever imagine. Mia knew he and Sara would fight till the end, and Mia had vowed to do everything she could to help, including keeping the clinic running smoothly during his absences.
“Speaking of trauma, how are you doing, Mia? Have you recovered from the accident?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Ted. Thank you. Mom is good. Ready to get back to work.”
“Excellent.” He sighed. “Mia, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t agreed to join me here. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to keep this clinic open without you.”
Ted had invited Mia to join his practice with the agreement that he’d be gone for long stretches of indeterminate time periods. It was a part of the buy-in agreement, but she’d signed it happily. Ted was more than her mentor and friend; he was also her role model, a father figure. And definitely more like a father than her own had been.
Waving a dismissive hand through the air, she said, “I think it’s working out for both of us.” She made a constant conscious effort not to make him feel like he needed to continually thank her. Staying positive, she believed, was also key.
He nodded, absently massaging George’s neck. George could be shameless in his attempt to get a neck rub, lying his head in the lap of anyone he deemed trustworthy. Mia imagined him reveling in the feeling of being free of a collar so tight he would likely always bear the scars.
“As you know, McKenzie was approved for that experimental round of therapy we were hoping for.”
“Yes, Sara told me. It’s so exciting.” She added a warm smile. “She mentioned she starts next week? That’s sooner than you anticipated, right?”
“It is. We’re really hoping it will buy her time until the new drug is approved by the FDA.”
“That would be beyond amazing.” Mia didn’t voice her concern regarding that particular medication. He was placing so much hope on a drug that, as far as she could discern, was still too far from human clinical trials to be a viable cure. She was fairly sure it hadn’t even been approved for testing on animals yet. But she would never dampen whatever hope he could generate at this point.
“I’ve cut back on my patient load accordingly. I’ll be back and forth, but here at the clinic as much as I can. Any concerns about working on your own? Is there anything you need from me?”
“Thanks, Ted. I think I’ve got this. We’ve had a lot of applicants for the new kennel assistant position and we’ll be doing interviews as soon as Charlotte can sort through them.”
“I trust you ladies to hire whoever you decide on. I don’t need to do an interview or a final approval or anything.”
She appreciated that he had this much faith in her and Charlotte. Ted was a perfectionist and could be a bit of a control freak. She’d worried about his ability to share administrative tasks, but so far that hadn’t been an issue.
“We’ll get on it then. Also, I’m reserving Saturdays for Lucky Cats. Tiffany, Carla and Raeanne have all volunteered to rotate their Saturdays to help with medical procedures.”
Upon relocating to Pacific Cove, Mia had started Lucky Cats, a program to reduce the stray and feral cat problem in the town and surrounding area. Part of the “trap, neuter, return” program included free sterilization. People were encouraged to trap the cats and bring them to the office, where she would spay or neuter and vaccinate them for free. They could then keep the cats or release them back outside along with a promise to feed them. This last gesture was an effort to keep the cats healthy; reduce their predation of native bird populations, a serious and ever-growing problem in this country; as well as to decrease their presence as a nuisance to gardens and garbage cans. Alternatively,