Page 33 of Always Almost You

Mike paused and studied Buddy’s coat more closely. The night before, while tending to his paws, he’d noticed the matting behind his ears and under his legs. Now, under bright store lighting, he could see tangles in the feathering of his tail and compaction in the undercoat. Grooming for this dog wouldn’t be cosmetic. It was necessary for comfort and care. Mike walked straight to the grooming desk and was relieved to see a sign that read:

Appointments Available This Afternoon

A middle-aged woman with half-moon glasses looked up.

“I’d like a basic bath and brush package,” Mike said. “And nail trim and ear cleaning, if you have time. I just adopted this guy. He was a stray.”

“Is he vaccinated?”

“About an hour ago. I have the paperwork right here.”

She reviewed the documents.

“Any signs of lethargy?”

“So far, he’s fine.”

She leaned over the counter to look at Buddy.

“I can see the matting from here,” she said. “We’ll go slow. Goldens are usually tolerant, but we don’t want to rush him.”

“I appreciate that. He’s been through enough trauma by being on the streets.”

“Take him through that door.” She pointed to her right.

Buddy followed Mike into the grooming area. When the groomer took the leash, Buddy looked back once. He wasn’t fearful, but just checking to see if Mike was still there.

“How long do you think he’ll be?” Mike asked.

The groomer ran practiced fingers through the coat. “This isn’t bad for a stray. I’ll take my time so he’s not stressed. I’d say a couple of hours. Does the front desk have your number?”

“Yes. I’ll be in the store. I need to buy pretty much everything.”

The groomer nodded. “If you’re hungry, there’s a sandwich shop two doors down. Best meatball sub in town.”

Mike laughed. “Sold.” He crouched and scratched Buddy behind the ears. “Enjoy your spa treatment, okay? You’re going to feel like a million bucks.”

Buddy pressed his head against Mike’s chest.

Mike swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

When Mike returned twenty minutes later after wolfing down the recommended meatball sub, he checked in at the grooming desk.

“They’ve already clipped out most of the matting,” the woman said. “He’s in the tub now, and loving it.” She removed her glasses and let them dangle from the chain around her neck. “He’s an absolute sweetheart. Everyone in the back is talking about him.”

Mike grinned as ridiculous parental pride swelled in his chest. “That’s my boy,” he murmured.

“At this rate, he’ll be ready sooner than expected.”

“Perfect. I’d better shop for the things he’ll need. We’re driving to Charleston when he’s done.” He grabbed a cart.

The collar aisle stretched the width of the store. Mike reached for a plain black nylon collar, practical and understated. Then he saw it—a vibrant green collar, decorated with tiny dancing bears mid-jig. He burst out laughing. Something about the joyful absurdity felt like Buddy. He swapped the black collar for the one with the bears and added a sturdy brown leather leash.

Next came two stainless-steel bowls and a large bag of quality dog food, followed by a giant box of Greenies and poultry-flavored pill pockets. “Genius,” Mike muttered as he tossed the pockets into his cart. He then procured the car harness and a backseat hammock.

The selection of beds was on the next aisle. Mike was captivated by an extra-large memory-foam bed that felt better than most guest room mattresses. Into the cart it went.

He passed the apparel section. Buddy already had the ridiculous flannel pajamas. That was enough. But what about toys? Those were absolutely necessary. Mike spent thirty minutes deliberating like a man choosing investments. A ball launcher with bright orange tennis balls was a must. As were two different Frisbees. Plus a tug rope and a KONG. A three-pack of durable squeaky toys—a squirrel, a duck, and a beaver—was a no-brainer. He imagined Buddy discovering each one. The final item was a Nylabone to chew during the long car ride. The cart overflowed.