“Definitely a good idea. If she gets messy, pop her into the shower to clean up. Coco will probably protest when you leave here, but she will adjust when she figures out Daddies don’t care about menstrual blood. If her cramps get bad, a warm-water enema held for as long as possible usually helps.”
“No,” she protested as Roman helped her sit up on her now padded bottom.
“Yes, Little girl. We will follow Dr. Richards’ directions.” Roman turned back to the doctor. “Heating pads and over-the-counter painkillers are okay?”
“Yes. Make sure she has something in her tummy before taking any pain relievers. A combined bottle works perfectly.”
“Smart. Thank you.”
“One last thing, Coco. I’m going to draw some blood for testing. Hide your face against your Daddy’s chest.”
Coco pressed her face into his soft shirt. A prick was all she felt before Dr. Richards taped on a bandage. “You’re done?” she asked, looking back toward him in amazement.
“Yes, Little girl. And you’re all done, too. Your Daddy will help you get dressed. Do you feel like staying to play with Zoey for a while? I know she wheedled cookies out of Jillian for your visit,” Dr. Richards asked with a smile.
“Can I, Daddy?” Coco asked.
“Of course. I might steal a cookie as well.”
“Or two,” Dr. Richards suggested with a chuckle.
CHAPTER 15
In the following days, Roman was pleased to note that Coco had more energy and slept better. He’d talked to Dr. Richards about the nightmares while his Little had played with Zoey. According to the doctor, Littles often were very sensitive and took longer to recover from a scare. He suggested waiting a couple of weeks to see if the nightmares resolved on their own or if she needed some additional support.
Impressed by the kind doctor, Roman had followed his advice. As it turned out, Dr. Richards was spot on about everything. He understood why everyone in their community trusted him. Even Coco had admitted later, while she hadn’t enjoyed having an exam, Dr. Richards hadn’t scared her at all. He’d treated her gently and explained everything so she could understand.
Thankfully, the flurry of contacts from the mall tenants had settled down to those he could handle during his regular work hours. He would always maintain a direct communication line with them despite allowing his manager to do her job in handling the routine tasks that kept the mall profitable, involved with the community, and safe.
The favorite part of his day was picking up his Little girl from work and hearing all the fun and challenges she’d run into during the day. Today, he had to work to look normal when he pulled up to the sidewalk near the employee entrance. The drama this week involved a client’s dog that had given birth to a litter of puppies and needed medical assistance with the delivery. The owner had chosen to leave the mother and her offspring with the clinic to recover for several days. The smallest pup had required a lot of hand-feeding and protecting from the others, who constantly nudged her out of the way.
Each day, Coco had dragged herself away from the clinic, worried about how Muffin would do without her there to take care of it. Yesterday following a phone conversation to update the owner on the progress of all the dogs, Coco been particularly upset because the woman had mentioned that the runt wouldn’t be sellable. She announced her plan to drop off the undesirable pup at the animal shelter on her way home when she collected the others. Coco was sure the pup would die without its mother and was heartbroken.
Today, his Little appeared with tears running down her cheeks. She’d gotten halfway to the car before she turned around to face the building again. Coco had taken two steps when the door opened again. Sofia and Isabella walked out carrying a basket and a bag of supplies. Roman slipped out from behind the wheel to watch and listen.
“I can’t leave Moo… Muffin,” Coco said, stumbling over the name she’d given to the cocker spaniel pup.
“I’d hope not,” Sofia said with a smile. “You got further than I guessed. I lost the staff pool.”
“What?” Coco asked, staring at the twins.
“I think I won,” Isabella crowed. “I guessed you’d take seven steps and run back to the door.”
“Are you making fun of me?” Coco asked.
“No. We’re bringing you Muffin. Your Daddy asked if he could buy her and the owner agreed. You may not thank us after you have to keep getting up every two hours to feed her,” Sofia said.
Coco turned back to stare at Roman. When he nodded, she whooped and raced back to throw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy!”
“You’re very welcome, Little girl. Go get your puppy.”
“Remember, Coco. You may do your very best to help Muffin survive and she might not make it. Often when a puppy is rejected, the mother and the other pups sense something is wrong with it. I don’t see any signs of illness, but that possibility exists. You are giving Muffin the very best chance she has to survive, but that may not be enough,” Sofia told her gently as she rejoined the twins on the sidewalk.
“I know. But I have to try. She’s worth it,” Coco told her.
“She is,” Isabella said. “We’re a call away if you need anything, and you are to bring her to work with you each day. Even when she’s old enough to stay at home. We like the idea of a well-socialized office dog hanging out in the office. The staff loves the idea.”
“Remind her of that when Muffin eats her favorite shoes,” Sofia said with a grin.
