Pineapple Pete: A Yellow Lab Of Texas Romance
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About this ebook
"If my dog doesn't like you, I probably won't either." So reads one of Roxie Ralston's favorite tee shirts.
But when Pete, Roxie's yellow lab, meets Thor Allen, the handsome owner of the local magic shop, it's a match made in dog heaven.
Pete is not the only one charmed by their unconventional new neighbor. Will Roxie trust Pete's affection for Thor enough to open her reluctant heart to the possibilities?
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Pineapple Pete - Mattie Fern Worrix
Copyright Notice
Copyright 2022 Mattie Fern Worrix
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
202201102051
Raising a dog is like a rainbow…
Puppies are the joy at one end.
Old dogs are the treasure at the other.
Author Unknown
Chapter 1 - Roxie
I closed the door on the old dryer and flipped the dial on high for 45 minutes. If I’m lucky I’ll have semi-dry dog towels to start the morning with tomorrow.
It’s always something, isn’t it Pete?
I whispered to my yellow lab as he stood next to me in the tiny bathroom slash laundry room at Pineapple Pete’s Pet Grooming Salon.
At the sound of his name, Pete wagged his tail with a loud whap, whap, whap against the side of the stackable washer and dryer unit.
I let out a loud sigh. I’ll probably need to come downstairs before bedtime and turn the dryer back on, because it sure doesn’t seem to be drying the towels like it did even just a few weeks ago. I just pray the heating element isn’t getting ready to die.
All I really know for sure is that when the dryer flakes out it’s a major pain in the butt--and usually an expensive one.
The last dryer died several years ago during the Christmas rush here at the salon and I had to send my other groomer, Hannah, down to the local laundromat with the whole back end of her Mini Cooper piled high with wet towels. At least they were clean towels--even though Hannah complained that her car smelled like wet dog for a few days. I bought her a New Car Smell
scented air freshener tree and told her to hush.
Pete followed me out of the bathroom, and into the Groom Room, his nails clicking on the gold and cream-colored tiled linoleum.
I gotta trim those tomorrow, Bud,
I said, and looked down to scratch his ear. That clicking is driving me nuts.
I’m such a bad dog mom. All the canine customers who come into Pineapple Pete’s for grooming get both a pedi and a mani, but I get busy, and sometimes Pete’s nails grow out--which is just fine with him because he hates having them trimmed. He’s always been a big baby about it, but if it goes too long between trims, then he clicks around until I can’t stand it any longer.
As we headed toward the front of the shop, past the three grooming tables, large stainless steel cage bank and tub, I noticed that Hannah had already placed a clean yellow polar fleece blanket, decorated with tiny brown pawprints, in each of the cages.
I flicked the light off in the Groom Room and sniffed. Hannah and I groom 12-14 dogs a day--five full-groom haircuts each plus a couple of easy bath only
dogs thrown in. These are usually a smooth-coated doxie or Chihuahua or beagle. They might need a good deshedding but they are mostly easy grooms.
Keeping the shop smelling good is a full-time job because the pets that come in for grooming here in rural Calliope--which includes lots of farm dogs--can be a pretty dirty and stinky lot. Plus we get our share of skunk dogs as well.
Of course, if I wanted to move closer to Dallas or even into Big D itself, I’d be grooming a much different clientele of dogs. Lots more doodles and poodles and they’d most likely be coming in on a two-week grooming schedule.
Every springtime, here at Pineapple Pete’s, we get a bunch of dogs we haven’t seen all year, and they come in smelling like mildew and pond water and with mats the size of tumbleweeds.
But the good news is after a spa day of pampering, they go home all clean and smelling good--although, to be frank, many end up looking a little bit like sheared sheep.
Not our fault.
Hannah and I affectionately (and a bit sarcastically) call this group of clientele our, Once a year whether they need it or not
group.
Pete brushed against my thigh--trying to use not-so-subliminal seduction to steer me in the direction of the dog treats sitting on the front desk.
I’d just put out a fresh candle pot cube earlier so the shop smelled pretty good. The particular scent, one of my favorites, smells just like Froot Loops cereal.
How about cereal for dinner tonight, Pete?
I asked. Which, actually, doesn’t sound too bad. I’ve got a half gallon of milk in the fridge upstairs in the studio but I’m stuck with multi-grain Cheerios unless I want to make a special trip down to Lester’s Market. It might be nice to pick up a couple of bananas too.
I heard some pounding from next door coming through the common wall and figured it’s the new tenant getting moved in. My landlord, Jacob, came by today to collect the rent and reminded me that he’s leased the space and the new tenant should be moving in any day now.
What was especially interesting was he said the business is some kind of New Age shop and the name of it is The Magnificent Thor’s Magic Shop
or something dramatic like that. He said the new tenant’s first name is, in fact, Thor.
Good grief. I wonder how old the guy is? Twelve?
I sank down into the front desk swivel chair to pull tomorrow’s file cards and Pete walked around to the front, his nails still clicking, and nudged the treat bowl.
You are such a beggar,
I said, and pushed his bulbous Lab nose away from the small pineapple-shaped bowl. He immediately sat down with a soft grunt, and looked up at me with big brown puppy dog eyes, and I felt that familiar twinge of pain in my heart.
As much as I want to deny it, I can see his eyes are starting to look