Chapter 8
Merry perused the photos of dogs and cats hanging in the exam room at the veterinarian’s office. The dogs had tongues lolling from smiling doggie lips, the cats looked simultaneously spoiled, regal, and adorable, and they all stared from the frames with soulful eyes that would make all but the hardest of hearts yearn for a pet of their own. She glanced at the door when the vet tech returned to the room with the dog in tow.
“Well,” the young woman said, handing the leash to Merry, “the good news is that she’s chipped, and we called the specified number. The bad news is that the person who answered the phone is the grandson of the original pet owner, and he doesn’t want the dog back. He said her name is Chula, she’s an old dog—about ten—and he inherited her when his grandmother went into Seaside Hearts, an assisted living facility in Bonita Springs. The dog got loose and ran away shortly after.”
“So, what am I supposed to do?” Merry asked.
The woman shrugged. “That’s up to you. I can give you the numbers to shelters, if you want to go that route. Or you could keep her. She’s a purebred Havanese.”
Merry squatted next to the dog and smoothed the soft fur on top of the animal’s head. The dog stared into her eyes and wagged her tail.
“So, your name is Chula. I guess you have a new home with me, because no way am I bringing you to a shelter. What do you think? You okay with this?”
Chula leapt at Merry as she had done the day before in the convenience store parking lot, knocking her backward onto her butt. Like yesterday, Chula’s body was shaking, but this time it was due to her wagging tail.
“I’d say Chula likes her new companion,” Nick said.
Merry looked up at him, laughing and dodging Chula’s tongue on her face. “I’d say so.”
“Here’s the name and number of her veterinarian in Bonita Springs,” said the vet tech, handing Merry a slip of paper. “We checked with them, and she’s not due for shots until February. A lady by the name of Ruth Canton was the original dog owner, and the vet said she doted on this little fur-baby. Anyway, you’ll probably want to have them send her records to your vet at home.”
“I don’t have a vet,” Merry said, accepting Nick’s hand to help her stand. “Guess I’ll have to find one, though. Thanks for all your help.”
“No problem. Enjoy the rest of your day,” the vet tech said and left the room.
Merry scooped Chula into her arms and rubbed her nose in the silky fur on top of the dog’s head. “You need a collar and leash, missy,” she said. Chula licked her chin.“Hey,” Nick said. “Do you think it would be inappropriate to bring the dog to see the old woman? We can call Seaside Hearts first, ask if it would be acceptable. That way she can see for herself that Chula is alive and well and being cared for. Just a thought.” He shrugged. “Then again, it might upset her. What do you think?”“That you’re incredibly thoughtful,” Merry said, her heart melting. “That’s a fantastic idea, and it can’t hurt to call the facility and ask. Bonita Springs isn’t too far. And listen, Nick, you don’t have to come along if you don’t want to. Between last night and today, I feel like I’ve hijacked your vacation,” Merry said. She held her breath when he took her face in his hands.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Ms. Sunjoy, I’m not complaining.”
“You’re a good man, Nick Brubaker.”
He kissed her forehead. “I hope you still feel that way after you get to know me better. Let’s go. We have a reunion to arrange.”
***
Merry and Nick followed Brenda Yancy, director of Seaside Hearts Assisted Living Facility, past a bright atrium area and down a short hallway toward double doors that led outside. Food odors wafting from the dining room at the end of the hallway mingled with the citrusy scent of cleaning supplies. A common area hosted a widescreen television that held the attention of a group of elderly men focused on the Golf Channel.
“I’ve already told Ruth you were coming,” Brenda said, her graying bob swinging across her shoulders as she pushed through the doors to a walkway lined with blooming hibiscus. Her rubber-soled shoes moved with soundless authority across the cement pavers. “She lit up when I told her you were bringing Chula. She was heartbroken when her grandson broke the news to her that the dog was gone.”
Chula squirmed in Merry’s arms, and Merry set the dog down now that they were outdoors but held tight to the leash snapped to Chula’s new pink-gemstone collar.
Brenda led them down the paved walkway that cut through the lawn and circled a small pond. The grassy area provided picnic tables and benches, and the space was dotted with residents enjoying the sunshine and clear sky after last night’s storm.
“Over here,” Brenda said, and strode toward a lady sitting in an Adirondack chair a few feet off the walkway in the grass near the pond. A walker stood beside the chair.
Brenda bent to touch the woman’s arm. “Ruth, your guests are here.”
The old lady turned her head, her wrinkled face alight with pleasure. The rhinestone comb holding her snowy hair in an elegant French twist glittered in the sun. Her mouth formed an “oh” before she clapped her hands and cried out, “It’s true! You’ve found my Chula!”
At the sound of Ruth’s voice, Chula strained against the leash. Merry jogged with the dog to where the older woman sat. Chula stood on her hind legs, tail wagging, her front paws a stark white against the teal linen covering Ruth’s thin legs. Ruth laughed and cupped the dog’s bearded muzzle between her manicured hands, bending as far as she could to get closer to the dog.
“Oh, look at you! I’ve missed you so, you little rascal,” Ruth cooed to Chula. “Lift her into my lap, won’t you?” she said to Nick, beaming.
“She’ll muddy your nice capris,” warned Brenda.
“Won’t be the first time,” Ruth said, reaching for the dog. She laughed while Chula rained happy kisses on her face. The dog settled into her lap for a few moments of petting, then jumped down to sniff the grass.
“You must be Merry and Nick,” Ruth said, wiping her eyes and turning her full attention toward them. “Thank you so much for bringing Chula to see me. I thought I’d never see her again. She was my constant companion for a long time. Good to meet you both.”
“I’ve got to get back to the office, but I’ll leave you to have a nice visit,” Brenda said. She squeezed Ruth’s shoulder, and Ruth smiled and reached up to pat Brenda’s hand before Brenda walked away.
“Brenda’s a nice lady,” Ruth said after Nick pulled up a couple of chairs for himself and Merry. “So, tell me how you found my Chula. I was so upset to learn she ran off. It isn’t like her, you know. She’s usually so well behaved.”
Merry explained the circumstances of Chula’s rescue while Chula herself curled into a quiet ball at Ruth’s feet.
“Lucky for her you were paying attention,” Ruth said. “I was heartbroken to leave my Chula, you know. But we aren’t allowed to keep pets here.”
“I promise to take good care of her for you,” Merry said, imparting as much positivity into her voice as she could manage. Her heart ached for this old woman who was forced to deliver the care of her beloved pet to another.
“Oh, I can tell that you will. I’m a good judge of character.” Her lips, brightened by pink lipstick, curved in a wry smile. “Which is why I was not happy that my grandson was the one adopting my Chula. He’s a real putz, that one.”
Merry raised her brows in surprise, but Nick laughed outright.
Ruth laughed with him and offered an elegant shrug that made her sapphire earrings dance. “Well, he is. But look at how well things turned out. I can see that you’ve spoiled Chula already.” She glanced down at the little dog and blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And now, let’s chat! I want to hear all about the two of you. I don’t get many visitors here, you know.” She smoothed her coiffed hair with her hands and glanced sideways at a few of the other residents with a wave and a wink. “Tell me something juicy so I have something to gossip about at dinner.”