“When life gives you lemons, or in this case, small dogs, compromises must be made. He’d be fun camping. He wouldn’t take up much room. He could sleep in your sleeping bag or next to it in summer.” Her expression brightened. “Cleanup would be easier. Small dog, small poop.”
“There’s a selling point.”
Charlie barked at a couple of birds. They walked on for a few more minutes, then Aidan called to him. Charlie immediately stopped and turned. Aidan picked him up. The little dog’s paws were damp and nearly frozen and Charlie was shivering.
“Hey, why didn’t you say something?” he asked. “You’re freezing.”
He unzipped his jacket and tucked Charlie inside against his chest. Shelby helped him zip the jacket closed around the dog. Aidan supported his butt with one hand. Charlie shivered for a couple more minutes, then snuggled close and closed his eyes.
“He would have just kept going,” Aidan admitted. “I can’t decide if that’s crazy or brave.”
“Maybe it’s that he would be up for an adventure.”
“Carol said he comes from a line of circus dogs.”
“No one has to know.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Not only now,” she teased. Her smile faded. “What do you think?”
Aidan wasn’t sure. Charlie wasn’t anything he’d been looking for. He’d thought he would end up with a Lab or maybe a German shepherd.
“He’s kind of ridiculous,” he said. “But I think I like him.”
They got back to the shelter. After Aidan took off the dog’s coat, Charlie dropped to the ground and rolled on his back, as if scratching an itch. The pure joy of the moment—all four paws waving in the air, his stocky little body writhing in pleasure—pretty much sealed the deal.
Carol said they could take as much time as they wanted with Charlie. Aidan led him back into the faux living room. Charlie ran around and sniffed the toys, then drank some water. When Aidan and Shelby returned to the sofa, Charlie jumped up next to them before settling on the back of the sofa. He gazed at Aidan as if he knew what was being decided.
“Well, hell,” Aidan muttered. He stroked the side of Charlie’s face. The dog licked his hand, then put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.
He was a good little guy, he thought. Friendly, eager and easygoing.
“I suppose a trial run wouldn’t hurt.”
Shelby smiled. “Silly man. There is no trial. If you take him home there’s no way you’re bringing him back.”
Aidan looked at the little dog and had a bad feeling she was right.
* * *
AIDAN’S FIRST STOP after taking Shelby home was the pet store at the edge of town. He had a starter kit of food, along with a ball and a new collar and leash from the shelter, but that wasn’t nearly enough. He knew pets needed things like beds and bowls, not to mention more than the couple of cans of food along with a two-pound bag of kibble he’d been sent home with.
“You’re going to have to help out,” he told the dog as he opened the passenger side door and reached for Charlie’s leash, which he’d left on the floor of the truck. He snapped it into place, then lifted the dog to the ground. “I don’t know what you like. Guidance would be appreciated.”
Charlie stared at him, his brown eyes thoughtful, as if he was processing the request. Aidan waited, but there was no other response. Not that he’d been expecting words or a note, but still, something would have been good.
“Okay then,” he said. “You ready?”
He pointed toward the store. Charlie started walking in that direction, his little tail straight up and wagging slightly.