Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I open the driver’s door, take the keys out of the ignition, and move to the backseat. A few minutes later, he’s got a slip rope around his neck and jumps out of the truck, letting out a small yelp. “Are you okay, buddy?” I ask the dog, who can’t respond. I’m sure if he did, it’d go something along the lines of 'Does it look like I’m okay, lady?' And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish Trey were here right about now. He could carry him easier than I can. “Alright, looks like I’m carrying you. There’s no way you’re going to walk into Tully’s now.”
I bend down, arms going beneath his stomach, and lift him up using my legs. This pup sure is giving me quite an exercise today. It’ll be worth it in the long run. We’re standing up, my arms burning while holding him, and I’m moving as quickly as I can to get back inside.
“I really need to get back to walking three miles a day. Clearly, riding horses isn’t enough in the exercise department,” I huff out as I walk back up the ramp to Tully’s office.
Lucky for me, a patient is walking out and holds the door open. “Thank you, Mr. Reyes.”
“You’re welcome, Sienna. Glad to see you home. We’ll have to catch up later. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” He and his wife would check in on me from time to time when Amos had to make the long haul to the auction out of town when I was a teenager.
“I’d love that.” He tips his head in acknowledgement, and I step back inside. Today must be my lucky day. Tallulah is out in the room, a rolling stretcher-like cart in her hands, and she’s moving toward me.
“Thank goodness. When Trey put him in the truck, he didn’t make a peep. He jumps out just now, and bam. A whine comes from him.” I don’t even say hello to Tully, going right into what happened.
“We’ll get him figured out. Come on back.” It’s safe to assume I figured other patients waiting for what I’m sure is their appointment times and would grumble. No one says a word, though, and I do as I’m told, laying the dog on the cart thing and following Tully and her assistant toward the back. The whole time, I’ve got my hand on the poor guy’s head, gently scratching his matted fur. We’re led into a room with a table and X-ray machine, and the assistant pulls out a tablet and waits for Tallulah to proceed.
“You want me to give you the details?” I ask. There isn’t much, but I can tell them what I do know.
“Sure. Sasha, will you grab the scanner for me?” Tallulah is already whipping her stethoscope out of her pocket and doing an assessment before I can even start.
“I found him while driving into town, ten minutes from the farm on the main highway. Trey helped me because, of course, as soon as he appeared, the dog ran off, then somehow, Trey being Trey, has him eating out of the palm of his hand. Not really. I didn’t have any food, but he loaded him in the truck, and now we’re here. There’s no collar, he looks like he hasn’t eaten a good meal in weeks, and I’m hoping you can fix whatever he has wrong with him.” Through my tirade, Tallulah nods, listening while working, and now I’m left with bated breath.
“His lungs and heart sound good. He is on the skinny side of what he should be. We’ll do a weight check and see how much he needs to put on. I’d like to say I’m surprised he was dumped, but honestly, it’s been happening so much I’ve become immune.” Sasha comes in and hands Tully the scanner, I sit down, unable to contain my hope about what will happen next. The beeping of the machine has my stomach dropping to my toes. I know already without Tallulah or Sasha saying a word. Someone lost their pup, and aren’t I the asshole for hoping this wasn’t the case?
“Alright, looks like he’s chipped, and his name is Bucket. I’m going to have Maureen see if she can get ahold of the owner. Until then, let’s finish the exam, see if he needs an X-ray, for sure get him started on IV fluids and go from there.” Tully looks from me to Sasha. The two working together mesh well. She’s out the door and getting the ball rolling.
“That’s a horrible name for a handsome dude like yourself,” I say to the dog, looking at him instead of Tully. “I’m going to go ahead and say it. Should the owner surrender him, or you not get a response, what’s the next step?” When Tallulah starts moving his back leg, he lets out a low yelp, and I’m back beside him. My hands and clothes are filthy, but who cares?