Rescued

By Adan Ramie

Chuck and her sister, Brenda, have always been passionate about animals. That's why Brenda became a veterinarian, and why they started the only animal shelter their small town knew. 

Old, malnourished, and abused, Stanley the Yorkie had a hard life, and the first time Chuck laid eyes on him, she knew she would do anything to save him -- even if the odds weren't in his favor and Chuck's ex - the one holding most of the cards when it comes to the shelter - is against it. 

When Chuck meets Stella, the beautiful professional who brought Stanley to them to be saved, the two hatch a plan to save him. Every day they spend together, the two women grow closer, but there's a snake in their midst that wants nothing more than to keep them apart.

 

Contains adult content. Reader discretion advised.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adan Ramie
• Release date: Sep 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536596601

Adan Ramie

Adan Ramie lives in a small town in Texas that is not unlike Andy Griffith's Mayberry with her wife and children. You can find her work in anthologies, magazines, and online journals. For updates, free fiction, and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter at: http://www.adanramie.com/newsletter

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

ONE LOOK INTO THE YORKIE’S gummy, red-rimmed eyes, and Chuck knew he was going to make it impossible for her to do her job. The spark of life in him was weak, but it was there; even as the woman standing over her swung her head back and forth, marking him as most likely a lost cause, Chuck knew she couldn’t let him go. Stanley was a fighter, and he needed her love.

Please try not to get attached to this one, Kenna said into her ear as she leaned over the bed on which he lay. It will only be harder when you inevitably have to say goodbye.

Chuck felt herself begin to deflate. Stanley was old, true; it was a fact that his eyesight was not what it probably once was; and he likely had not been part of a caring family who cared for him in so long that he may not know what it was even like. More than that, though, the dog had obviously been horrendously abused and would need medical treatment. Expensive medical treatment.

From beside Chuck, her sister, Brenda, put a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. Kenna’s right. You can’t win them all, Chucky. Sometimes, as much as we hate to do it, we have a duty to let nature take its course.

Chuck stood and shrugged off the hand. She clenched her hands and teeth at the same time. Nature does not come in the form of a lethal injection.

Brenda let her hand slide off Chuck’s shoulder, but stayed behind her and lowered her voice. You can’t think of it as a lethal injection. We would be putting him out of his misery and letting his spirit move on.

We both know you don’t believe that, Chuck said.

Brenda stepped back as Chuck turned around and crossed her arms over her chest too tightly. Taut muscles stood out in her jaw and her forearms as she took her frustrations out on her own body.

Chucky...

Stop calling me that. I’m not a child. Chuck pushed past Brenda and Kenna, stalked out of the sick room, and went into the washroom to scrub off the germs and to try to scrape the anguish from her skin with the gritty soap.

Brenda followed a few steps behind her, and leaned against the doorjamb, hand on her hip. No, you are not a child, but you are always going to be my little sister.

Chuck rinsed off the last of the soap, pressed the hand dryer with her elbow, and rubbed her hands together until they were hot and dry. She stepped to the closed door, but stopped with her back to Brenda. There has got to be something else we can do for him.

Brenda walked up and wrapped her arms around her younger, but larger, sibling. Unless someone is able to foot the bill for a long, intensive surgery that might not even work, and we can find a foster family with the know-how and resources to care for him while he is recovering from what most animals would have died from, I don’t see how. She dropped her head to Chuck’s shoulder and turned to her profile. It would be cruel to put him through all that for nothing.

Chuck gently shrugged out from under the drape of her sister’s body, then opened the door and walked out into the hallway. A few doors down, she pushed open another door and walked into pandemonium.

All around them, young animals ran, jumped, climbed, barked, and hissed. Kittens pounced on piglets, puppies yipped at rats, and a baby goat bounced happily in the middle of it all. Both sisters watched as the animals noticed them and, one by one, started to come their way.

I love spending time in here, Brenda said after a moment of silence from her sister. It’s a nice reprieve from the suffering I see in the sick room.

Chuck knelt down to rub her hand over a kitten’s back, and it playfully swatted at her fingers. She purposefully kept her eyes off Brenda. Sometimes what you think is suffering is healing. It’s necessary. You should know that: you’re the doctor.

What I know is that the kind of treatment that dog is going to need will put him through a lot of pain. What I don’t know is how likely he is to come out of it with a higher quality and longer life – if he comes out of it at all. We could put him through all that just to have to put him down later.

Brenda squatted down and tried to look into her sister’s eyes, but Chuck scooted away on her knees and picked up a pit bull puppy. Brenda sighed. Chuck, can you afford to save that dog’s life? Because Saving Gracie’s can’t. Kenna told me just last week that we needed to tighten our belts and make do with what we have for a while, or our little homeless pet shelter will join the others in being shut down for good. She crawled forward, rubbed a hand across the puppy’s forehead, and shoved her head between the puppy and her sister’s face. We would have to close our doors, and forsake all the others, just for one life. It’s not right, and you know it.

Chuck let the puppy hop from her hands, stood up, and brushed the slobber from her hands onto the back of her jeans. She watched the little animals as they tumbled over each other. They were completely unaware of how much the sisters had given up to make sure they were healthy and happy.

It’s not fair, I know, Brenda said, and reached out for Chuck. I’m sorry, honey.

Chuck shook her head. Her sister’s answer, while it sounded logical, felt like a sharp blow to her chest. The shelter was about saving lives, not ending them, especially if they thought one could be saved. Unfortunately, the money-minded Kenna and her pragmatic sister had turned their eyes from one too many lives instead of to the suffering in front of them.

If I can find a way to pay for it, will you consider giving him the surgery he needs?

Brenda pulled her hair out of her slipping ponytail, fluffed it out, then put it back up more tightly before she responded. Chuck could see the cogs turning in her mind. Without money as an option to say no, Chuck knew Brenda would have no other choice but to give in.

I’ll have to talk to Kenna about it first. Brenda rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then looked back at Chuck and smiled. If she gives me the okay, and you can come up with the money and find a foster family, then I will do everything I can for him.

Chuck turned to her with a proud, thankful smile. Then it looks like I have my work cut out for me.

Brenda patted Chuck on the shoulder, then pushed off the floor and onto her feet. As she walked away, Chuck’s mind went back to her last bank statement. Saying she was in no position to donate money to the Stanley fund was an understatement, but there had to be other ways to get things done that weren’t illegal or immoral. She just had to think of one – and fast.

CHAPTER 2

FOR THE NEXT TWELVE hours, Chuck reached out in every direction she could with Stanley’s story, hoping to scrape together at least a down-payment for the care he was going to need. Kenna acquiesced to let Brenda start him on the antibiotics and fluids he needed in addition to the pain medication he was already on, and take the bill out of Chuck’s paycheck, but refused to allow Brenda to do any more until she had at least fifty percent of what it would cost in time, drugs, equipment, and supplies to get the dog back into shape.

She was hanging up on the last less-than-helpful potential donor when the door of Saving Gracie’s opened with the cheerful chirp of the bird chime she had installed the summer before.

We’re closed, she called out without turning around, then crossed the last name off her list. She only had until morning before Kenna would shut her and Brenda’s efforts down, and she was still four thousand dollars off her ultimate goal.

I’m sorry. I just wanted to ask about a dog I brought in. His name is Stanley, said the most beautiful voice she had ever heard.

Chuck twirled around behind the counter and almost lost her footing. She grabbed the counter to steady herself and looked up into warm, hazel eyes set wide in a heart-shaped ebony face. She had not been at work when Stanley had been brought into the shelter, so she hadn’t had a chance to meet the kind soul who had brought him into her life, but had hoped to meet her. It had only been a day, but the little Yorkie already had a place in her heart.

The woman in front of her was more beautiful than she expected, and it took her a moment to respond. You brought Stanley to us? Chuck asked. She inwardly cringed at the youthful quality her voice had taken on.

The woman gave her a bittersweet smile and nodded. Her close-cropped hair shone in the rays of sun that filtered through the uncovered windows. I found him on the side of the road. The other shelters I brought him to said they would have to put him down, and I didn’t want to see that happen.

Chuck came around the counter with her hand outstretched. That is something I don’t want to see it happen either. My name is Chuck Billard. I co-own Saving Gracie’s with my sister, Brenda, and our friend, Kenna. ‘Friend’ was stretching it, but this woman wouldn’t want to hear the whole sordid tale, so she let it go.

The woman shook her hand. I’m Stella Lamb. She stepped back and slid her hands into her back pockets as Chuck shoved hers in her front pockets. So, how is little Stanley?

Chuck’s shoulders slumped and she looked down at her dirty sneakers. To have to say such a thing hurt her feelings; she could only imagine how it would feel to the person who had went to so much trouble to save the little Yorkie.

I don’t know if we’re going to be able to help him. The accident he was in was relatively minor, but his immune system is very weak. We believe that he was badly abused by his previous owner, and that makes it harder to get him into shape. It also makes the surgery he needs a lot more complicated – and expensive. She felt tears bloom in her eyes, but tried to blink them away. One tear slipped through and fell to the floor at the woman’s feet.

Stella stepped forward and took Chuck’s hand in her own. That’s terrible news. How much is it going to cost?

Chuck raised her head and looked into the wet eyes across from hers, and her heart thumped hard in her chest. A little under five thousand dollars. So far, I have raised about nine hundred, but Kenna wants at least three thousand to get started. She shrugged sheepishly. "Most of what we do is basically charity, and