Love To The Rescue by Brenda Sinclair Read Free Book Online Page B

No one inquired about an Irish setter or came to claim him, and there was no way to trace ownership. After a few days, the dog came here for adoption.”
    “The poor thing,” cooed Amy.
    “I’ve seldom seen a dog so untrusting, but when you consider all the mistreatment he’d endured, I couldn’t blame him. He’d been on his own for some time judging by his shabby condition. He’s been here for a couple of weeks now, making remarkable progress, and he just went up for adoption this morning. Rover could be such a splendid pet with a little TLC and a lot of patience, and we’re all praying he finds a good home.”
    “Rover.” Amy stared through the window at the dog. He hung his head, but a few seconds later, he looked back at her with a wary expression.
    “Would you like to meet with him in one of our visitation rooms?” asked Mrs. Swainson.
    “I’d love to!” exclaimed Amy.
    Mrs. Swainson directed her to a nearby interview room. Just then Leslie caught up to them in the hallway.
    “Amy, I got her! She’s already spayed and has her shots and I can take her home today. I’m going to pick up a cat carrier at the store and some food and some toys and...” Leslie beamed and performed an impromptu happy dance right there in the hallway. “I own a cat!”
    Mrs. Swainson chuckled, “Congratulations, dear. I’m off to fetch Rover.”
    “I’m happy for you.” Amy waved Leslie into the interview room, and they each took a chair. “I hope this wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment thing that you’re going to regret.”
    “No way.” Leslie beamed. “While I was lying in bed last night, I thought about you adopting a dog today, and I realized I’ve always wanted a cat to snuggle with on the couch while I’m watching my TV shows. I’d hoped to find a nice little cat, but I didn’t say anything even to Rick in case I jinxed it.”
    “Well, wait until you see the beautiful guy I’m considering adopting,” gushed Amy, grinning.
    Mrs. Swainson returned with Rover a few minutes later. “He won’t make a fuss with women. And he loves children. It’s just men he can’t abide.”
    Amy leaned forward in her seat, slowly extended her hand for the dog to sniff. “Hi, Red Rover,” she whispered. Surprisingly, the dog took a tentative step forward and sniffed her outstretched hand. He licked her fingers and Amy noticed an almost imperceptible tail wag.
    “Red Rover?” asked Leslie.
    Amy smiled. “Remember the game we played on the school grounds at recess when we were kids? ‘Red Rover, Red Rover, let Amy come over.’ I used to love that game.” Amy felt a smile creep across her face. She patted the dog’s head, stroked one silky ear.
    “Oh yeah, I hated that game,” said Leslie, sounding disgusted. “I was so small everyone always headed straight for me because they knew they’d break through the line every time.”
    When Amy slowly stood, the dog ducked his head. After a minute, with a bit of encouragement from Amy he cautiously took another step closer.
    “Well, Rover’s beautiful red coat reminded me of it.”
    “He is a beauty,” agreed Leslie.
    Amy ran her hand down the dog’s long back while Rover eyed her suspiciously. “I won’t hurt you, big guy. I can feel every rib on this dog, Mrs. Swainson. He needs someone to fatten him up a bit.”
    “That’s why he’s up for adoption. He’s been through a horrendous situation, but he’s done wonderfully well here. Haven’t you my pretty boy?” Mrs. Swainson patted Rover’s head, and then she met Amy’s eyes, grinning. “If I didn’t already own three dogs, I would have adopted him myself. But my husband would have disowned me if I had.”
    “Three?” asked Amy, incredulously.
    “We live a few miles south of the city off Macleod Trail on an acreage. All three dogs were adopted from here, all German shepherds.”
    “We had shepherds when I was growing up. But I always loved Irish setters for some reason,” said Amy,