Jess laid a hand on Val’s knee. “We’re thinking of giving him the Last Act of Kindness rather than putting him through all that pain and stress, only to put him down when they can’t find a home for him.”
A lump knotted in Val’s throat. She tried to swallow past it and couldn’t.
“I know it’s harsh, but that’s the reality of the unwanted pet problem in America and the world.” Jess squeezed her knee. “There are many more pets than there are homes to look after them.”
Val brushed the back of her hand over her eyes. “It’s not fair. Look at him. He’s adorable.”
“They’re all adorable, Val, and three hundred thousand of them are euthanized every year. Not because of health or behavioral issues but because nobody wants them,” Jess murmured.
The number was staggering. Val dug her fingers into the dog’s thick, rough coat, and his tail flapped on the clean tiles. He’d lie like this, unprotesting, as the vet slipped the needle into his vein.
“It won’t hurt,” Jess added softly. “He’ll go to sleep peacefully.”
“But he could have an amazing life,” Val croaked.
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s the awful reality of animal welfare.” Jess swallowed hard. “It never gets easier.”
The dog raised his head and looked at Val with limpid, dark eyes, and her heart exploded.
“I’ll take him,” she heard herself say.
Jess blinked. “What?”
Val considered the words. “I’ll take him,” she repeated firmly. “It’s the only decent thing to do. I’m away a lot, but I can give him a good life. I’ll get a dog walker or something.”
Jess stared at her. “Val, I know you feel for him, but a pet is a major responsibility. You need to think it through.”
Val squared her shoulders. I’m already responsible for a feral paranormal who can melt faces. I can handle a dog. She couldn’t say that to Jess, so she muttered, “I’m responsible for human lives every day, Jess. I’m familiar with the idea.”
“I guess,” Jess conceded. “I was going to mention the financial aspect, but you’re, like, a celeb jewelry designer, so...”
Val chuckled. “I’m good.”
Jess rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know. This can’t be an emotional decision for you.”
“Would you rather put him down tonight?” Val asked bluntly.
Jess chewed her lip. “No. Okay. I’ll talk to Dr. West. If I can persuade him, then you can take him home.”
The dog’s lower jaw dropped, displaying sharp white teeth and his pink tongue. Val knew he was panting, but it was hard not to believe that the curve on his lips was a smile.
“Whoa, dude.” Val gripped the leash tightly. “Take it easy.”
The tag fluttered on the end of the leash; Val hadn’t had time to take it off before snapping it to the harness Jess had recommended. It was supposed to be comfortable. Apparently, it was comfortable to pull in, too.
The dog’s claws scrabbled on the sidewalk. His front leg, encased in a white cast, slipped as he struggled to get purchase on the rough surface.
“Would you calm your ass down, please?” Val demanded.
The dog’s tail wagged furiously. Little yips of excitement escaped his mouth.
“Look at him!” Jess laughed as she followed Val outside, carrying a small fortune’s worth of dog beds, blankets, food, bowls, and toys. “He knows he’s going home with you.”
“I hope Genevieve knows,” Val muttered under her breath.
They approached the shining Mustang, and she grimaced at the thought of dog hair and claws on the leather backseat. It bore its fair share of scars and stains—Val presumed that Genevieve had been in plenty of battles—but she wasn’t sure how the car would feel about adding to them.
“Okay, Gennie,” she whispered, pulling out her keys. “We know how you feel about Tetra. Can you be friends with the doggo?”
She unlocked the car, and the passenger door and trunk popped open unbidden. The dog barked in excitement.
“Automatic doors? Neat.” Jess shoved the armload of dog-related shit into the trunk. “Don’t let him jump up.”
“I know. No jumping, no stairs, and no long walks for six weeks.” Val wrapped her arms around the dog and scooped him up. He submitted to being lifted to the passenger seat, then sat there panting and wagging his tail. Drool splattered on the leather.
“Sorry, Gennie,” Val whispered.
“What?” Jess asked.
“Nothing.” Val shut the door and started the air conditioner. “Thanks for everything, Jess. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Send me pics.” Jess beamed. “Call me if you’re worried about anything.”
“I will,” Val promised.
She drove away with the dog sitting happily on the passenger seat. Genevieve’s purr had a new, happy timbre.
