Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“Of course. Here’s your receipt. The doctor mentioned when you dropped him off that he shouldn’t lick the area where the stitches are. No jumping, running, or rough playing until they dissolve, which should be in about seven to ten days. Pain medicine is as needed, and antibiotics need to be taken regularly.”
“You got it, thank you.” I nod my head to the technician who brought Coop out, holding his leash. He’s not his usual hyper self. I’m sure that has something to do with the anesthesia Cooper was given. If I have any luck, maybe he’ll remain that way the rest of the day. Exhaustion is settling in, and I’m hoping for a quiet rest of the day relaxing on the couch.
“You’re welcome. If you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to call.” I grab the stuff, and we head out the door. Forest would get a kick out of the shit Hendrix is pulling. He’d say I’m meeting my match, her giving me as much hell as she has. That that’s what you get after years of staying single, living the bachelor life. It didn’t seem like long ago he met Krissy, fresh out of college. Both of them were more worried about starting their career than having children. Then Krissy became pregnant. Cammy was the best thing in Forest’s eyes besides his job and wife. But the writing was on the wall even back then. At first, Mom thought it was postpartum depression or the fact that her parents weren’t around to help her through all the changes, having come from the system herself, so we all gave her time. One thing led to another. Mom helped as much as she could until Krissy came around, which she did about the time Cammy was able to attend daycare a few hours a day. Neither of them wanted Cammy to be an only child. I think Forest thought another baby would mend their lives. It didn’t, clearly, if Krissy is talking about divorce and out of town more than she is home.
“Alright, Coop, looks like it’s going to be you and me for a few days. No hiking and no jumping. That includes into the truck.” I was able to swap vehicles. The Escalade isn’t lifted like the Bronco, but I’ll still have to lift him up.
I hit the unlock button, and Cooper starts to get excited. “Calm down, buddy,” I say softly, holding him back from lunging into the back seat. As soon as he realizes I’m not letting him in the vehicle by himself, he simmers down. This is probably the calmest he’s been since I rescued him. Not saying that getting his balls taken out has made him relax already, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping it helped either. I lift him up, under his belly, making sure not to hurt the big fella, and get him situated in the back seat on the blankets I put down in case anything happens as well as give Coop some comfort away from the leather seat, too.
“Let’s head home.” I pat his head, trying not to laugh as he places his head on his two front paws as he lies down. Between the cone and getting a vasectomy, he’s whooped. I just hope Coop stays that way, so maybe I can get a nap in myself.
ELEVEN
Hendrix
I have the best girl tribe ever, seriously. Journey knew that I wouldn’t leave Jolene this week while she recovers, needing to stay as calm as possible, and while she doesn’t have the big plastic thing around her neck because I’m a nut job and a half and bought an inflatable doughnut instead, I still won’t leave her with the dog sitter or dog walker, not yet at least. It’s only been forty-eight hours since her surgery, and don’t get me started on how I had to sleep in my empty house alone without my four-legged friend. I called my mom crying. She told me the story about when I stayed overnight with Nanny the first time. She bawled her eyes out, and of course, Mom put the dig in that I was a human, not a furry critter, as a joke, reminding me once again not to have a child because she’d probably want to strangle me.
That leads me here, where Journey, Celeste, and Tyra are currently sitting in my living room in the middle of the weekday. Each of us has gone through something or the other that calls for a day like this. Mine is because of a certain man named Madden, who had the audacity to pay for Jolene’s vet bill, like I couldn’t afford it or something.
“I get that you’re an independent woman, but maybe he really was trying to apologize,” Celeste states, taking a sip of her drink. My place is small. The girls are sitting on the couch and chair. I chose to sit on the floor, using the coffee table to prop my elbows up.