“Young enough to be easily trainable,” Ira responded. “But I don’t want the hassle of training a pup. Maybe a year or two. Not too old.”
“Perfect. We have a number of what I like to call teenagers. Two to three years old. Some have behavioral issues; most of which will be easily corrected. We have an excellent training school and it’s not just for puppies.”
“Show me who you’ve got. The only requirements are he’ll need to get along with cats and kids.”
“Oh, you two have children? You should have brought them.”
“Oh, no!” Honey and Ira responded in unison.
They looked at each other and laughed. Ira gestured for Honey to speak.
“Um, we’re not together. We’re friends, that’s all. We don’t have children.” Honey explained.
“Yet,” Ira added with a grin.
“Okay,” Betty said slowly. “Why don’t you wander past the cages and talk to the dogs? Get a feel for those you’d like to get to know better. Sometimes, the bond is instantaneous.”
Slowly, Ira walked through the crowded room; stopping at each pen to speak to the occupants and read their information tag. “What in the world is that?” he asked, pointing to a wildly spotted black and white dog.
“Wow, he’s weird looking,” Honey exclaimed coming to stand in front of the cage.
“That’s Buffalo Bill. As near as we can figure, without running a costly genetics test, he’s part Mudi and part Husky.”
“What’s a Mudi?” Ira held his closed fist toward the cage, letting the dog sniff him. The dog’s tail wagged and he tilted his head sideways.
“Bill is probably full grown. Mudi’s are Hungarian. They live to be about 14. By our best guess, Bill is three. He’s 40 pounds, heavy for a Mudi, but we expect that’s from the Husky side.”
“What’s the Mudi temperament?” Honey asked.
“Patient and loyal. And Bill here is great with the other dogs and cats. It’s a shame he’s here. He’s very friendly, and outgoing. We found him chained to the front door three months ago. He’s still here because, frankly, with his unusual coloring, all those spots on his chest, face and feet, he’s not the handsomest dog we’ve ever had. A lot of people have commented he reminds them of those wild black and white African dogs.” She shrugged. “He’s also a bit jumpy. He needs a firm hand to calm him. Though I have to say, he’s never nipped or growled at anyone.”
“I’ll take him.” Ira reached through the cage to pet Bill who eagerly leaned into Ira’s hand.
“What? Don’t you want to play with him first? Take him for a walk?”
“Nope. I like him. He likes me.”
“I’m going to have to insist,” Betty said. “We never let an animal go home without a visit.” She seemed very concerned.
“Okay. I’ll play with him first. But consider him sold.”
“Oh, no. We don’t charge for adoptions. Coyote Creek is a small town, we know practically everyone.”
“Except us,” Honey said quietly.
“True. But it’s still free. Hans and I are just happy to find these animals good homes.”
“Well, then. Pull Bill out and I’ll play with him. Before I make a donation to the shelter and take him home.”
Betty beamed, and Honey hid a smile at Ira’s action. He was a good man and obviously recognized a good cause. Of course, his generosity shouldn’t surprise her, he had spent several years serving his country and would still be there if not for his injury. And to consider a rescue when so many people were only interested in expensive pure breeds? Swoon-worthy. Totally enticing and dreamy.
She sighed a happy sigh. She might have, finally, found a dreamy man. “How about if I check out the cats while you play with Buffalo Bill?”
“Sounds good to me.” Ira paused. “I think I’ll just keep him at Bill. The whole name seems too formal somehow. He’s not a formal guy. He’s simple and straight forward. Like me. A regular Joe.”
“And you can tell that already?” Honey laughed. “He’s not even out of the cage yet.”
“Oh, how little you know. Bill and I have bonded deeply already.” Ira opened the pen and let Bill hop down. The mid-sized black and white dog jumped up and down, circling Ira excitedly, tail wagging hard enough to hurt when it whacked Honey.
