Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,14
entire three-family clan could do that? Only the future Bitter Bark fire chief?
“Hey, bro.” Connor, his younger brother and a fellow firefighter, pulled open the glass office door, looking fresh from only three hours on his shift. “Why are you still here?”
“Better question.” He lifted the phone. “Why does Gramma Finnie want me to stop at Linda May’s before I head over to Waterford this afternoon?”
“Because you’re the responsible Mahoney who cares if everyone’s needs are met.” He grinned. “Sorry to miss Sunday dinner with the crew, but someone scheduled me to work two weekends in a row. Thanks, pal.”
“Your schedule is golden for the rest of October.” He stood, and instantly, ninety pounds of black, gold, and cream-colored fur lifted his head from a bed in the corner and stared at Declan, an expression of pure dejection on the poor dog’s face.
The Alaskan Malamute and Siberian Husky mix had looked that way since the moment Declan had arrived at work earlier this week and found him sleeping outside the station’s back door.
Surrendered, abandoned, or merely lost, the poor guy they called Lusky, since his breed blend was called an “Alusky,” had attached himself to Declan. When he wasn’t curled in a corner, he lumbered around the station, eating without enthusiasm, and letting out the occasional howl that would be heart-wrenching if it wasn’t such a funny-sounding wail.
“Lusky’s gonna blow,” Connor said, watching the creature lift his girth and then drop it into a classic downward dog.
“Any second,” Declan agreed.
Connor opened the door a little wider. “Sorry, I have to. They live for this.”
Rolling his eyes and knowing what to expect, Declan closed his laptop and gathered up his papers while his brother pointed to the dog. “Don’t let me down, big man,” Connor whispered. “Three…two…one…”
His huge mouth opened and out came a yowl that would make a wolf green with envy. Instantly, three jackass firefighters answered the call with howls of their own.
“Are you done having fun at this dog’s expense?” Declan challenged. “Wait. Scratch that. I’m asking the man who ran his dog for town mayor.”
“And won.” Connor reminded him. “Why are you in a suckier mood than usual, Big D?”
“Oh, let’s see, I worked twenty-eight hours, finalized three new training exercises, interviewed volunteers, revised the policies-and-procedures manual, and inspected the engine.”
“Why aren’t you chief again?”
“Good freaking question, Connor. I guess because we already have one.”
“Who sure knows how to delegate.”
Declan agreed with a soft grunt in the dog’s direction. “Don’t forget I’ve suddenly got a new best friend with no chip, no collar, and attachment issues. And to top it off, my grandmother has me doing her bakery run.”
“Like I said, that’s why they call you the responsible one and me the handsome one.” Connor knelt in front of the dog, threading his fingers into the thick fur on his monstrous head, then stroking the distinctive widow’s peak on his face. “Speaking of handsome. You’re a showstopper, you know that?” He glanced up at Declan. “Who’d give this guy up, though, seriously?”
“God only knows,” Declan replied.
He’d worked at this station for so many years, there wasn’t a dog story he hadn’t heard. For some reason, when people ran out of money, luck, or time and were too ashamed to take their pet to a shelter, they left them at the fire station. Nine times out of ten, Declan was the one to step in and take care of the poor beasts, who had no idea why they were in a strange place where sirens screamed and boneheads howled back.
“Whoever it is, they’ve had seventy-two hours to have a change of heart. Garrett’s been running notifications and pictures, too, throughout his whole lost-dog network. Nothing left to do but take this guy to Waterford Farm today and get him into the adoption program.”
“He’ll go fast,” Connor said. “He’s too pretty not to find a home.”
“But he sheds like a sheep.” Declan plucked at hairs on his uniform trousers, then slung his pack over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Lusky,” he called, watching the dog rise slowly. “I’m going to have Molly look at him first thing. I don’t think he’s quite right.”
“Good idea. Oh, and pro tip? Since I can’t be there to guarantee a win, get on Shane’s team for touch football. He’s been working on plays.”
Declan threw him a look. “You know I don’t get on the field with those lunatics.”
“You should.” He pointed at his brother. “A little lunacy would help you, man.”