Indie Saint: An Urban Fantasy Adventure by VK Fox

Author:VK Fox [Fox, VK]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2021-05-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The puppy in the third kennel was just so stinkin’ cute. His darling round ears were unclipped, Eileen was pleased to see. His tail was docked, though, barely two inches long and naked pink. He must have rubbed the hair off on the bars of the crate. He was larger than Eileen was thinking, but could she go too large, given her circumstances? Maybe ninety pounds? He was mostly fluff and sporting a long, wiry brown coat similar to an Irish wolfhound. He was a shedder, for sure.

Eileen hadn’t planned to stop by the shelter today, but everything happened for a reason. She’d been walking . . . somewhere. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember where. Eileen sighed. Senior brain. Getting old was not for the weak of heart.

Passing in front of the shelter, Eileen had been thinking about Baxter. Even after a year, the loneliness had an edge. With David away, Baxter gone, and her mother’s passing, the feeling gnawed constantly in one place or another. Constantly stumbling over cold, empty spaces that used to be filled by the people she loved was exhausting. A dizzy spell had hit, and Eileen was sure a small ball of light raced along the ground and into the open window. She sat on the front bench next to the trash can and the complimentary bags for doggy doo, sipping her bottle of juice. Stars were still popping in her eyes when she thought, Why not? Maybe today was a good day for a new best friend.

Eileen stooped to peer through the bars at eye level. “Hey, boy!” she crooned in her voice reserved for good dogs.

He lifted his head and prodded the bars with an angular muzzle.

“Aren’t you the sweetest! You wanna come home with me? I’ve got a nice kibble dinner all ready for a good boy!” His bright, dark eyes followed Eileen as he licked at her hand, the bars, and his nose.

An hour later, they were home. Eileen wasn’t able to get much information from the shelter on the big guy. Unknown breed, picked up as a stray. They said he’d been rescued from the river, poor thing. Some beastly person had probably dumped him in the water when he wasn’t a little puppy anymore. Well, now he had a good home. Eileen named him Morty. The dog in her book club story had an unpronounceable name, so she’d mentally substituted “Morty” while she was reading. The name had grown on her.

Eileen laid out his kibble and water and opened his crate. Kibble was a stopgap until she changed him over to the raw diet for dogs that had recently caught her attention, since doing so suddenly might cause indigestion. George might already have a little trouble adapting to her new friend, so she did not need canine indigestion as a cherry on top.

Morty was all settled, lying in front of his food dish, rubbing his paws across his ears and face. What a smart boy! It would be nice if he groomed himself.

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