Read Online To Scotland With Love by Patience Griffin - Free Book Online Page B

stopping to remove their boots. Precious was lying on her big fluffy pillow in the parlor. When she saw Graham, she raised her head slightly and wagged her tail once. Her head dropped back down as if the weight of it were simply too much. The yearning in her eyes said she wanted to get up, but she didn’t have the energy.
    â€œSee, Doc?” Graham paced back and forth. “She looks all wrong.”
    Doc bent down and checked her eyes and belly and listened to her heart. Finally, he rose, laying his hand on Graham’s shoulder, not meeting his eyes. A subtle shake of his head brought the angel of death screeching into the room.
    â€œNo.” Graham shook his own head as if to counter Doc’s prognosis.
    â€œYou need to prepare yourself, lad.” Doc’s hand fell away.
    â€œNo,” Graham said again, quieter this time.
    Doc nodded in the way that old men do—patient, tired. He seemed to know enough about Death to know how this dance played out. “I’m sorry, lad. Precious has had a long life. Longer than most dogs.” He pulled a vial from his bag. “Give her a drop every hour for any discomfort.”
    Graham didn’t say a word, only nodded his head—a man adrift in a life raft, alone and vulnerable. Cait knew what he was going through, and she didn’t want to be there. It felt damned uncomfortable.
    Death had been her lifelong companion, but that didn’t mean they were friends. Friends shared common interests like gossiping over coffee, shopping for shoes, or constructing the perfect quilt. Death was only interested in causing misery, anguish, and isolation. Death gripped anyone hanging around and doled out lasting sadness and pain.
    Doc left, and they were alone.
    Cait knew what was coming next and she wanted out. But at that moment, Graham took her hand.
No!
    â€œGlad I don’t have to do this by myself.”
    But wasn’t that the point? Death epitomized loneliness.
    He squeezed her hand.
    Crap.
She had no choice now but to stay.
    He let go of her and sat down next to Precious. Those little doggie eyes lit up with complete love and devotion. He unscrewed the lid on the vial and squeezed a drop of liquid into her mouth. “There you go, girl. It’ll make you feel better.”
    Reluctantly, Cait sat down on the other side of the fluffy pillow to keep vigil with him.
    Graham put his hand out, and Precious licked it. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes going soft with an old memory. “She was the size of a softball when I got her. All fur. I’d made up my mind to get a blue merle from the litter, but this sable fur ball kept tugging at my shoelaces, trying to get my attention. I picked her up, and that was it. I was in love. She was such a good girl—cute, funny. Never gave me a minute’s trouble.”
    â€œI can tell.” Cait reached out and stroked the dog.
    Precious’s eyes moved to Cait, then back to her master.
    â€œI couldn’t have asked for a better friend,” he said, caressing the dog.
    It was silent for a few moments, and Cait couldn’t stand it. “You said you took her on location, filming.” She hoped it was the right thing to do, to keep him talking.
    â€œAye. She went everywhere with me.” Graham smiled. “I even took her to the Oscars. When this obnoxious reporter bent down to pet her, she tried to take a chunk out of him. I gave her extra treats for that one.”
    They stayed like that for a long while, making a circle with their bodies around Precious, as she labored to breathe. Graham told more stories, his brogue getting thicker with each one. He got up periodically to put another log on the fire, and every hour he gave Precious another drop from the bottle.
    At three thirty A.M. , Cait awoke. She reached over and laid a hand on Precious. Her fur was warm, but Cait couldn’t feel her diaphragm moving up and down, no more air flowing in and out.
    The dog was