pronounce the veterinarian’s last name, but it didn’t matter since he had dr. jim emblazoned in blue on the breast pocket of his white lab coat.
“I might have a home for the Lab mix,” Dr. Jim said.
“Really?” Claire glanced into her small backyard where the year-old stray was chasing his tail. Yoda, a rather serious beagle, watched the visiting mutt with what she could only think of as a look of disdain. Yoda simply didn’t know how to have fun.
“Family with three boys. I had to put their shepherd down after a hit-and-run last week. They were devastated, of course, but I think they really want another dog as soon as possible, and they’re good people.”
“They can come by anytime. Just let me know when and I’ll be here.”
“Still nothing about the terrier?”
She shook her head. “I put notices up in all the usual places, with the pound, all over the park. I went to every house in a four-block radius. No owner, and no one recognized him.”
“He’s a smart dog.”
She smiled. “You want him?”
“I have four dogs, three of which I took from you. April will shoot me if I bring home another. Besides, I think he’s more your style. Even Yoda seems to like him.”
True, Claire thought. “We’ll see what happens. It’s only been two weeks. Maybe his owners went on vacation and the house sitter lost him.” She could hope. But the truth was a lot of people simply abandoned their dogs and cats when they moved, or when the pet became too much work. She wanted to strangle those people. Instead, she found good homes for the animals, no matter how long it took.
“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” Jim asked. “April is making lasagna.”
Claire liked Jim and his wife, but she always felt like a third wheel. They’d been married for years, but still acted like newlyweds. It reminded Claire that no matter how many guys she dated or friends she went club-hopping with, in her heart she felt isolated and alone. Until Mitch.
“I have a date, but thanks for the invite. Tell April I said hi.”
Claire watched Jim drive off, then closed the door and walked down the hall to her office.
Facing the rose garden in McKinley Park, her Tudor-style house wasn’t large, but it was charming. She kept her dogs outside, though they had access to the enclosed sunroom. Neelix, her orange and white cat, had the run of the place. It was because of Neelix that she’d met Dr. Jim in the first place. She’d just bought the house in McKinley Park four years ago when she’d witnessed a teenage boy throwing rocks at a stray cat in the park. The cat was shrieking. Claire had wanted to chase down the punk, and she’d certainly had enough adrenaline to get in a few good licks, but the poor, undernourished injured cat was lying there, trying to get up, dazed. The cat’s back leg was broken. Claire picked saving his life over revenge.
She didn’t always choose so wisely.
No one claimed Neelix, so she’d kept him. Nursed him back to health. He went from a six-pound skeletal feline to a thirteen-pound fat, lazy cat.
Neelix opened his eyes, not moving from his spot at the end of her bed when she walked in. She scratched him behind the ears, then turned into her office, a converted walk-in closet. Her bedroom originally had two closets—a large walk-in, and a smaller closet. She had taken the doors off the walk-in, removed the shelves and poles, and turned it into her office. It fit a desk, a small file cabinet, and a short bookshelf. Comfortable and functional.
She flipped on her computer screen and Googled the Western Innocence Project. Nearly every state had an “Innocence Project,” which was generally affiliated with a law school where lawyers and students took on criminal appeals pro bono if they felt that the convict had been unjustly convicted. Many of the cases came from DNA evidence, often older cases where new forensic technology enabled them to extract DNA from a rape or murder and match
“I might have a home for the Lab mix,” Dr. Jim said.
“Really?” Claire glanced into her small backyard where the year-old stray was chasing his tail. Yoda, a rather serious beagle, watched the visiting mutt with what she could only think of as a look of disdain. Yoda simply didn’t know how to have fun.
“Family with three boys. I had to put their shepherd down after a hit-and-run last week. They were devastated, of course, but I think they really want another dog as soon as possible, and they’re good people.”
“They can come by anytime. Just let me know when and I’ll be here.”
“Still nothing about the terrier?”
She shook her head. “I put notices up in all the usual places, with the pound, all over the park. I went to every house in a four-block radius. No owner, and no one recognized him.”
“He’s a smart dog.”
She smiled. “You want him?”
“I have four dogs, three of which I took from you. April will shoot me if I bring home another. Besides, I think he’s more your style. Even Yoda seems to like him.”
True, Claire thought. “We’ll see what happens. It’s only been two weeks. Maybe his owners went on vacation and the house sitter lost him.” She could hope. But the truth was a lot of people simply abandoned their dogs and cats when they moved, or when the pet became too much work. She wanted to strangle those people. Instead, she found good homes for the animals, no matter how long it took.
“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” Jim asked. “April is making lasagna.”
Claire liked Jim and his wife, but she always felt like a third wheel. They’d been married for years, but still acted like newlyweds. It reminded Claire that no matter how many guys she dated or friends she went club-hopping with, in her heart she felt isolated and alone. Until Mitch.
“I have a date, but thanks for the invite. Tell April I said hi.”
Claire watched Jim drive off, then closed the door and walked down the hall to her office.
Facing the rose garden in McKinley Park, her Tudor-style house wasn’t large, but it was charming. She kept her dogs outside, though they had access to the enclosed sunroom. Neelix, her orange and white cat, had the run of the place. It was because of Neelix that she’d met Dr. Jim in the first place. She’d just bought the house in McKinley Park four years ago when she’d witnessed a teenage boy throwing rocks at a stray cat in the park. The cat was shrieking. Claire had wanted to chase down the punk, and she’d certainly had enough adrenaline to get in a few good licks, but the poor, undernourished injured cat was lying there, trying to get up, dazed. The cat’s back leg was broken. Claire picked saving his life over revenge.
She didn’t always choose so wisely.
No one claimed Neelix, so she’d kept him. Nursed him back to health. He went from a six-pound skeletal feline to a thirteen-pound fat, lazy cat.
Neelix opened his eyes, not moving from his spot at the end of her bed when she walked in. She scratched him behind the ears, then turned into her office, a converted walk-in closet. Her bedroom originally had two closets—a large walk-in, and a smaller closet. She had taken the doors off the walk-in, removed the shelves and poles, and turned it into her office. It fit a desk, a small file cabinet, and a short bookshelf. Comfortable and functional.
She flipped on her computer screen and Googled the Western Innocence Project. Nearly every state had an “Innocence Project,” which was generally affiliated with a law school where lawyers and students took on criminal appeals pro bono if they felt that the convict had been unjustly convicted. Many of the cases came from DNA evidence, often older cases where new forensic technology enabled them to extract DNA from a rape or murder and match
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