I shoot him a surprised glance. Even when he agreed to come to the shelter instead of the pet store, I really thought he was trying to make a good impression on me. Instead, he not only listened, he took my words to heart. And my own heart squeezes in my chest.
If I’m not careful, he’ll win me over despite all the reasons I am trying hard not to fall.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Axel
Norah pulls outpaperwork and places it on the counter. “Sorry. We’re not technology-based. You’ll need to fill these out before you leave with a dog. Usually, there’s a screening process, but I think we can trust the word of our resident vet.” She grins at Tara.
“I’ll do that,” I say, picking up the pen and answering the questions as the women speak.
“How’s the fundraising going?” Tara asks, causing my ears to perk up.
Norah lets out a sigh. “Unfortunately, not as well as I’d like. I don’t want to have to close this place in the off months, but I don’t know if I can afford to keep it going if nobody pitches in.” Norah shrugs. “I put in as much money as I could on my own, but things are tight.”
“You’re having financial problems?” I ask as I scrawled my name on the final page.
Norah glances up. “Yes. I started the shelter with my inheritance, but it’s expensive to keep the place up and running without substantial donations.” She pulls out a set of keys. “Ready to check out the dogs?”
Obviously, she doesn’t want to discuss her business problems, and I respect that. We follow Norah to the door leading to the back kennels.
She pauses before letting us in. “So what kind of dog are you looking for? Big, small, medium? Hair, fur?”
I look at Tara, aware I must have a confused expression on my face. I haven’t thought about the kind of dog I want.
She laughs and pats my shoulder. “He loves a friend’s golden retriever, so he’s comfortable with that size and type of fur. Beyond that, let’s see who he takes to and who takes to him.”
No sooner has Norah opened the door than a cacophony of barking sounds loudly around us, all the dogs making their excited presence known.
As we walk past the runs, rooms, and cages, a knot forms in my stomach at the number of unwanted dogs. “I wish I could take them all,” I say over the noise.
Tara puts her hand on my shoulder. “I know how you feel. Every time I come in to do a check on a new or sick animal, I want to bring them all home. But for now, Dakota is enough.”
“I still need to meet her,” I say, determined to be part of everything in her life.
“We’ll do that. Now look around and see who draws you.” She speaks into my ear, and my body reacts to her nearness and warm breath.
Reaching over, I slide my hand into hers. “Let’s walk.”
We pass large breeds, small and medium breeds, exuberant dogs, and dogs who hang back, watching warily. I stride up and down the aisle, taking in one side of the cages and then the other.
I pause by a solitary black and white dog with silky fur and big puppy eyes. With a black head and a white stripe along the nose and a white body, the dog is… special. Our gazes meet and hold.
“That’s a pointer/border collie mix,” Norah says, coming up behind us. “He’s a large breed. Currently weighs fifty-five pounds, and his name is Walter.”
As she explains, Walter and I experience some kind of serious bonding moment. This dog speaks to me without words.
“He’s an owner surrender,” Norah goes on. “The family had to move away and into a small apartment. Walter has a lot of energy, and they couldn’t meet his needs.”
I stare at the dog. “Can you open the gate?”
As Norah lets him into the run, she says, “I should warn you, he’s a”—the dog immediately begins to rub up against my jeans—“clinger,” she says, laughing.
I kneel down, and Walter leans farther into me, rubbing his head into my stomach. In that instant, I know in my heart this is my dog. The only problem is, much like his previous owners, I won’t be around to give the dog the attention and exercise he undoubtedly needs for his energy level. Though he seems mellow now, I have no doubt Norah knows what she’s talking about.
Though I intend to buy a big house, what will happen when I’m away on tour, like Tara had asked? When she laid it out for me in the parking lot, I didn’t want to admit she had a point. But faced with the dog I want with every fiber of my being, I can’t be selfish.
I rise slowly and turn to Tara.
