Groomed For Love. Helen R. Myers

dog. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” she added to Noah.

      “It’s hot for autumn.”

      “But the evenings are so nice. Doc has a couple of kenneled dogs this week and he’s letting me walk them. Then they get to spend the night with us. As you saw, there’s plenty of room, and they enjoy it so much more than being locked up in pens.”

      Noah lost the battle with his curiosity. “Us?”

      “MG and me. My dog.”

      “And MG stands for...?”

      “Mommy’s Girl. They told me when I got her from the shelter that they’d named her Marnie, but it was soon apparent that we were going to be very close, and she’s seriously maternal. She instinctively steps in to help whenever she decides I need her assistance with an animal.”

      Noah was sorry he’d asked. Sure, he believed there were special relationships between some pets and their owners, but Mommy’s Girl? That was laying it on a bit thick.

      Unlocking the BMW with his remote, he opened the passenger door for Rylie. Looking over the hood of the car, he considered the grassy area and the woods beyond it where she said she walked. It was more a wild pasture than a park. “Aren’t you concerned about snakes, or getting eaten up by chiggers and mosquitoes?” Texas also had more than its share of wild hogs, coyotes and an increasing number of abandoned dogs, too, he thought.

      “We haven’t been bothered yet,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe there’s safety in numbers. In any case, I tend to take a live-and-let-live approach. It’s more important that the dogs get some attention and exercise. They’re missing their homes, and some are overweight, so being constricted in pens for days is just unhealthy.” She began to put the dog on the BMW’s black leather seat only to rear back. “Oh! Please put on the air conditioner and give us a moment for things to cool down. She’ll get burned.”

      “Try putting her on the floorboard.” When he saw her stubbornly resist, Noah did get into the car and start the engine. Sure, it had gotten warmer in the short time that he’d been in her RV, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been in July or August. As the vents quickly blew cold air through the inside of the vehicle, he reiterated, “The floorboard, please. I don’t want claw runs in the leather.”

      “But she won’t be able to see, and it’s a rougher ride down there.”

      The Mother Teresa of furry creatures really was beginning to push his buttons. “For crying out loud, this car’s shock absorbers are the embodiment of foreign skill in cushion and spring. She has no idea what rough is.”

      With a sigh of exasperation, Rylie said to the dog, “Your big brother is determined to be disagreeable, isn’t he, precious?”

      Big brother? “Okay, that’s enough,” Noah said, having had his fill of this nonsense. “Put the damned dog in now. Please.” He had to get out of there before she fried what brain cells he had left.

      With a mournful glance, Rylie did as ordered. Carefully shutting the door, she backed away.

      As Noah cut a sharp U-turn, he decided he was going to tell his mother that her pet’s groomer—cute as she was—was a nut job who needed a reality check. There were kids, even in this area, who needed help with essentials—food, clothing—not to mention finding a safe family environment. Spending any more time on inanity like this was ridiculous. How could a woman be so adorable, yet irritating at the same time?

      As he circled around the clinic and cut a sharp turn onto the service road, Bubbles barked at him as the force of the turn tipped her over.

      “Oh, put a lid on it,” he muttered.