The little nose poked out just enough to catch the scent. A tiny pink tongue darted out.
“That's it. I'm not gonna hurt you.”
Minutes crawled by. I checked my watch. Nine. Sullivan Farm was a twenty-minute drive.
Come on, kid.
The puppy crept forward. Tiny thing, maybe eight weeks. Shepherd mix, black and tan. Filthy. One ear flopped while the other stood straight up.
I stayed perfectly still.
The little thing sniffed the treat, snatched it up, then bolted back to its hiding spot.
Well. That was something.
“Look, I'm gonna be honest with you.” I tossed another treat, this one landing a bit closer. “I don't have room for you. My barn's falling apart and I'm already feeding twelve dogs I can't afford.”
The puppy ventured out again, grabbed the treat, retreated.
“And I'm tired. Like,reallytired. I worked until four this morning because a horse decided to eat something it shouldn't have, and now I'm sitting on the ground behind a dumpster talking to something that probably has worms.”
Another treat. Closer.
“I should tell Frank to call animal control. They'd take you to the shelter in Aspen. It's nice there. Someone would adopt you in a week, tops. You're cute enough.”
The puppy's tail gave a tentative wag.
“Don't do that.” But my voice softened despite myself. “Seriously. I can't save everyone. Sharon keeps telling me that. She's right. She'salwaysright, which is annoying.”
The next treat landed right beside my boot.
“I need to stop saying yes to every sad case that crosses my path.”
The puppy crept forward. So close now I could see the fleas moving in its matted fur.
“Except I look at you, and I just...” I exhaled slowly. “I can't do it. I can't walk away knowing you're eating garbage and sleeping outside. Even though I should let someone else take care of you.”
The puppy sniffed my boot.
“My house is a disaster. I eat cereal for dinner most nights because I'm too exhausted to cook.”
I extended my hand, palm down. Waited.
“But you probably don't care about any of that, do you?”
The puppy touched its nose to my fingers.
I stayed perfectly still while it investigated my hand, sniffing with the concentration of someone making a life-or-death decision. Which, honestly, it was.
“Yeah. You're coming with me.”
The puppy pressed against my palm, a tiny warm weight trembling through my fingers. I gave it another thirty seconds to let it get used to my scent, my presence. Let it decide I wasn't a threat.
Then I scooped it up in one smooth motion.
It yelped, scrambling against my chest with needle-sharp claws. I tucked it close, one hand supporting its back legs, the other cupped around its ribcage.Jesus, I could feel every bone.
“I know. I'm sorry.” I kept my voice low, steady. “Almost done.”
