Canine TLC

By Deirdre O’Dare

Wounded warrior Gary Sanchez gets a new lease on life from a visiting therapy dog while in the Veteran’s Administration hospital to recover. He knows at once what he wants to do when he gets out and back on his feet. With the help of Angie, a very special rescue dog, he follows this dream -- smack into a young doctor with a major canine phobia and a hard-ass attitude.

Mirmar has struggled and suffered to get his MD and build a life in his adopted homeland. Childhood trauma has left him with a deep fear of dogs. When he sees one in his hospital, he’s ready to kick some serious butt. However, the man on the end of the leash is another matter entirely. What is it about the handsome Latino that draws him like a magnet?

Can these two bridge their differences and find a way to fill the aching empty spot in their lives with each other? Only Angie knows for sure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Nov 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781646561605

Deirdre O’Dare

Deirdre writes gay romance channeling a prior life’s gay male twin she calls Danny. Fascinated by love’s diverse shades and guises, she explores and experiences a range of attachments. She still believes in happily ever after, that Love is the One True Thing and genuine Love is never wrong. For more information, visit deirdredares.blogspot.com.

Book preview

6

Chapter 1

Vallecito, NM

Late spring

Gary Sanchez limped down the long aisle between rows of cages, looking at the dogs. He wished he could take them all, but that wasn’t possible. Some wagged their tails and looked at him with pleading eyes. Others lay listlessly, as if they were sure no one was ever going to reach out to them. That especially broke his heart, but right now he could take just one. Maybe, if his plan worked out, he’d come back for more or arrange their adoptions before too long. Meanwhile, he could only pray most of the rest would find forever homes. Even though he knew that was probably not possible, he could hope.

A sharp bark caught his attention, as it was clearly meant to do. He turned toward the sound. The dog scratched at the latch on its cage with an impatient paw. It barked again. The meaning could not have been much clearer if it had spoken in English instead of canine. Get me out of here! You know I’m the one you’re supposed to take.

He couldn’t restrain a grin. The mid-sized dog had a coat mixing black and white, floppy ears and an abbreviated plume of a tail. The feathery appendage wagged furiously as he approached the cage. The dog dropped to sit, poised and alert, looking at him with keen amber eyes. One compelling stare saying, You’re going to take me. You know you are.

Although Gary wasn’t yet sure the sex of the dog, it didn’t matter. He’d been chosen and that was all there was to it. He noted the number on the cage before he turned around and headed back to the desk in the front office. Less than an hour later, he clipped a leash on the dog and led it out to his old pickup.

Okay, pup, you and I are going home. In a few days, we’re going to start school. You’ve got a lot to learn and so do I, but it’s for a good cause and it’s gonna be fun.

The dog turned out to be female. The shelter worker had told him she was a mixed spaniel, probably springer and cocker. She’d been spayed, weighed thirty-nine pounds, and was about five years old. Gary decided to call her Angie, short for Angel of Mercy. Maybe the name sounded a little pretentious, but it fit with his plan.

That night Angie jumped up and slept on his bed, snuggled against his bad leg. The warmth and gentle pressure of her furry body eased his chronic pain better than any pill. For the first time in weeks, he slept through the night.

Angie lost no time in training him to her routine, or at least the one she decided would work best for both of them. She never messed in the house, although she woke him up at the crack of dawn to make a trip into the back yard. He saw at once his run-down little house was going to need a dog door. He’d get one as soon as he could afford it. Two daily walks were also part of the agenda. Angie didn’t mind if Gary walked very slowly. He just had to go. His speed gave her more time to snoop and sniff, so that was fine. Still, each day they went a little farther and every day his bad leg got a little stronger, a little less painful.

True, he’d never be an athlete again. He’d left that dream with the fragmented flesh of his left leg, the result of a roadside explosive device in Afghanistan. For a time he’d been convinced life was over. Then Iona Wilcox and Princess came into his life.

He’d been back stateside and in the army hospital for about a month, supposedly going through therapy to regain some use of his damaged leg. Although he went through the motions, his heart wasn’t in it. Then one day he looked up to see a diminutive elderly lady with an unbelievable flower-decked hat and a dog almost as big as she was. They came marching down the ward between the rows of beds. The dog seemed to decide where it would stop.

As a kid, he’d always loved dogs.