“Hey boy, how ya doin’? Have a good ride back here?” I asked, slowly and quietly unlocking the gate, not wanting to startle him. He’d gotten a bit skittish when we had to lift him into the truck, and I was hoping he’d jump down on his own. Not wanting to further injure the leg he was limping on, I’d asked Miguel to bring out the PetStep, a kind of portable step stool for dogs for instances exactly like this.

Once it was in position, I reached in and got hold of his leash, gently tugging him forward. Once he understood what I wanted him to do he came willingly, albeit a little slowly. Once more, he stalled when he saw the two men, but after sniffing the air for a moment, he came down the steps one at a time. And when he’d reached the asphalt, that tail was wagging again.

“Well, look at you!” I was amazed at the resilience of this dog. “Come on, Sammy Davis Jr. Let’s get you checked out so I can get you home. I’ve got a bucket of tennis balls with your name on it.”

Marge took one look at the dog when we came in and put her hand on her heart. “Well bless my soul, look at this pretty boy!” she squealed, leaning over the counter to see him as we went back to the exam rooms. While she cooed, I took a moment to compliment her on the very festive hot pink vest paired with a pair of lemon-colored slacks. I say slacks because they just couldn’t rightly be referred to as pants. They were from a decidedly slacks-type era.

“Lucas, honey, I’ll tell your dad you two are here,” she said, then reached into her pocket. “And here, Chloe, see if he wants one of these.”

“Thanks, Marge,” I said, pocketing the treat and following Lucas down the hall. Inside the exam room, Sammy picked a corner and huddled into it, keeping his bad side toward the wall. Protecting it? Poor guy. He whined just once, then laid down with his head on his paws, watching us carefully.

“Hey there, big guy, no one’s gonna hurt you. We just want to get you feeling better, okay?” I said softly, crouching down on the floor next to him. Once more, reaching out with my fingers curled inward, I let him sniff me and was rewarded with a head bump. I smoothed my hand across the top of his head, delighted he was letting me pet him already. I kept my strokes long, smooth, and gentle as I moved down across his body.

“Hey buddy, think I could take a look at you?” Lucas asked, bending down next to me.

The dog let out a low growl and backed farther into the corner.

“He doesn’t seem to like men too much.” I sighed.

“I can’t blame him for that. He seems to like you, though,” he said, patting me on the shoulder.

“Want me to try to get him on his side?”

“Normally I’d get a tech for that, but he seems comfortable with you. Let’s keep the muzzle on for now, though.”

“You’re in charge,” I replied as I encouraged Sammy to roll over onto his good side, exposing the side he’d been keeping hidden.

“I disagree. You are very much in charge here,” Lucas said.

His face darkened as we took in the extent of the dog’s injuries. It was clear that this dog had seen some action. Old scars ran the length of his flank, some still healing, some old and gnarly, healed over horribly. His fur was patchy here and there, where it no longer even grew.

“Oh,” was all I could manage. Other than that, I kept quiet as Lucas gave him a quick once-over. It certainly would have been easier up on the table, but Lucas seemed content on the floor. His hands were sure and able, with no quick or unnecessary motions.

Sammy thumped his tail every now and again, encouraging me to keep up my constant head-to-tail petting. He was so trusting, when he had every right not to be.

“Okay,” Lucas said, slowly standing up and making some notes on a chart. “I’d like to keep him here overnight, if that’s okay with you. I need to clean out those wounds, and under the circumstances, I think sedation is going to be the best way to go. Then I can give him a thorough examination, make sure everything else is okay. Sound good to you?”

“Sure, whatever we need to do. I want to get this boy running again,” I said, smiling down into those golden eyes. Sammy seemed better already.

Lucas nodded, then extended a hand down to help me. Just as he pulled me up, I noticed Marge’s face peeking through the window on the exam room door. I rolled my eyes at her, and Lucas turned to see who I was rolling them at. She just smiled at us, making no effort to hide the fact that she was peeking.

Lucas turned back to me with a look I was beginning to know well. “I really can’t resist,” he said, backing me against the wall, grinning the entire way.

“What are you up to?” I asked, looking up at him as my back met the wall, just next to the door. I could see Marge trying vainly to peer inside, and as I lost sight of her, I realized she was now out of range. All she could likely see was the navy blue scrubs, the owner of which now caged me in with his arms. “You’re evil, you know that? You’re giving her way to much to think about.”

He laughed, and leaned a bit closer. “She’s bored; she needs things to think about.”

The closer he got, the more Sammy Davis Jr. was not having it. Wriggling across the floor, he deposited himself on my feet, laying across them and chuffing out another warning to Lucas.

“Ha! See, he knows what you’re up to.” I giggled, leaning down to pat Sammy lightly on the head. “Now, fix up my dog so I can take him home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, then looked at the door’s window. “Coast is clear; want to head back up front? Sammy can stay here.”