No Way To Die: A John Santana Mystery by Christopher Valen

Author:Christopher Valen [Valen, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Santa Rita Press
Published: 2023-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

On Saturday morning, with the temperature rising into the low forties, Santana took Gitana for a run outdoors. Now, with the warmer weather, he didn’t have to worry about booties and freezing her paws.

A half-mile into their run Santana saw a large yellow Lab vigorously wagging its tail as it trotted toward them. A tall woman in a bright green ski jacket, jeans, and knee-high boots held onto a leash as she jogged beside the Lab. Wisps of straw blond hair peeked out of a stocking hat that matched her jacket.

She waved as she and the Lab drew closer.

“Is your dog friendly?”

“Always,” Santana said.

“Can they play?”

“Sure.”

The woman stopped about a foot in front of Gitana, and the dogs looked at each other. They sniffed each other. They circled each other, sniffling as they went. Santana stayed close. Gitana stretched her front paws out and dropped her chest and raised her hind end. The Lab did the same. Santana unhooked her leash. The woman unhooked the Lab.

Then Gitana rose up and tore around in a circle. The Lab chased her. The circle widened and soon the two dogs were racing around a large, snowy yard near the road. Occasionally, they would stop to put their heads down and tails up. Then they would race around some more. Finally, the two of them stood still, panting, tongues lolling, tails wagging, looking at each other.

Santana and the woman walked over to their dogs and clipped the leashes onto their collars.

“What’s your dog’s name?” she asked.

“Gitana. Spanish for Gypsy.”

She smiled and gestured toward the Lab. “Her name is Lexie. Thanks for the playtime.”

“You’re welcome.”

As Santana watched the woman jog away, he realized he hadn’t gotten her name. But that’s the way it was with most dog owners he’d met on his runs with Gitana. Like him, they were dog people and only interested in meeting his golden girl.

Santana remembered hearing that once someone has had the good fortune to share a true love affair with a golden retriever, one’s life and one’s outlook are never quite the same.

As she sat in front of him now, her golden eyes focused only on him, a smile on her face, he thought of her loyalty, her unconditional love, her sense of wonder, and all the joy that she’d brought to his life, a life he’d mostly spent alone.

His mother’s murder and the years he’d spent in Homicide had contributed to his loss of faith in the goodness of humans. In Gitana’s jubilance, in her excitement of life, he saw all the innocence that he’d lost.

She had literally saved his life by warning him of an impending bullet. Without her senses, her awareness of impending danger, he would likely be pushing up daisies now.

He believed he’d saved her life as well after her first owner had been killed. Though he’d had dogs growing up in Colombia, he’d struggled with the idea of having a dog given his work schedule. But deciding to adopt her had been the best decision he’d ever made.

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