Beyond them, the most godawful racket started, making Ford smile. Apparently, Maybelline had heard him talking. “I’m coming,” he said in a singsong voice, and the frantic howling increased.
Laughing, Nikki turned the corner with him and there she was. Maybelline, all one hundred pounds of her.
Slinging drool and dancing around on her giant paws, the dog looked as if a St. Bernard and Bigfoot had gotten together. Big, muscular, with a massive head, a few scars, and at present, a look of love in her eyes.
Seeing him, she gave a loudwoofthat shook the walls.
Because he loved her intelligence, he said, “Shh,” just to see one of her better tricks.
The bark changed to a low grumble deep in her throat, like an elderly person mumbling.
“Such a good girl.” Forgetting about Nikki for a moment, he said, “Maybelline, no female has ever loved me the way you do.”
Snorting at that bit of nonsense, Nikki thwacked him on the shoulder. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true.” Dates had mentioned love before, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t trust and friendship, and a need for a lifetime together.
“You know you want her. Quit fighting the inevitable.” Nikki opened the kennel door and clipped a leash to Maybelline’s collar. With her big butt going in one direction and her head and shoulders in another, the dog wagged her whole body while plowing out to see him.
She was large enough that Ford didn’t have to bend far to hug her, to repeatedly pet her head and neck, whispering soft words to her.
One day he would promise to keep her. How that’d work with his hours, he didn’t know, but if he could figure out a way, he would.
When Nikki said, “If you want to take her out, you can,” the dog nearly yanked him off his feet, lunging to the kennel next door to hers.
“I take that as a yes.”
“But she wants her friend,” Nikki pointed out with a grin.
“A sentiment that’s obviously shared.” High pitched yapping began as a much smaller dog, no more than eight pounds, spun in circles of excitement. A Chihuahua-terrier mix, he wasn’t much bigger than Maybelline’s paw, yet somehow they’d become besties.
God, he loved animals. If he had the means, he’d adopt a houseful of them. “Can I get a twofer, Nikki?”
“Shoot, yeah. If you didn’t let them out together, there’d be no end to the racket.” Because the smaller dog was sneakier than Maybelline, Nikki ducked into the kennel to attach the leash before opening the door so the wee one could join Maybelline.
It was hilarious to watch them together. “The odd couple,” Ford said, seeing the tiny pooch jump repeatedly to reach Maybelline, only to have Maybelline run her big tongue from one end of the little dog to the other, almost toppling him over. “I’ll take them out to the yard for a while. Let me know if Skye needs me.”
“I’ll bring her to you as soon as she’s done.”
Nodding, he used a back door to access a fenced area. Volunteers were in the side yards, where trails made it easier to teach the animals the etiquette of being walked, but back here, it was quiet with no one else around.
Maybelline was much calmer now, shortening her long strides so the smaller dog, running, could keep up. Every so often they paused to cuddle and smooch.
Honest to God, his heart was taking a battering today.
Situated beneath a shade tree was one of four picnic tables that Knox had built and donated. Hell of a guy, his buddy Knox. The man could build or repair anything, and often treated work like a vacation. He enjoyed everything he did. Ford envied him that ability.
After he took a seat, Maybelline rested her massive head over his thighs. For such a big, strong girl, she was the gentlest of creatures, and incredibly loving. She deserved a family. She probably deserved someone better than he.
So far, no one had taken her.
People looked at her and saw all the wrong things. They didn’t see her enormous capacity for love. Her sweet nature.
Her vulnerability. Her need.
And why the hell was he suddenly feeling so maudlin?
“Come on, pooch.” He patted the bench beside him, and the smaller dog jumped up, gaining access to Maybelline’s face.
