Page 32 of Chelsea’s Knight

“You’re doing so well,” Patrick, the trainer, praises. “Smokey already has his official certification as a therapy dog, but I need to fill out the paperwork for you to legally be able to have him. Just remember, service dogs are allowed everywhere and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, you make sure you fight for that right. Just make sure he’s wearing his gear whenever you’re out in public.”

“I will. Smokey’s the third one the club has, although, the other two are for PTSD,” I say, referencing Koba and Ridley, Atlas and Patsy’s dogs.

“Good, then they know the drill and will be able to help you navigate any pitfalls you might come across,” he advises. “Because there’s always one douche nozzle who thinks they know the fucking law, but they most assuredly do not.”

Despite my hesitancy against confrontation, there’s no way I won’t fight for the dogs, and I reiterate that fact.

“Even if my voice shakes, I’ll do it,” I promise.

“Sweetness, you’re one of the bravest humans I know,” Canyon says, walking up to us, the tiny doxiedoodle who has attached himself to Canyon by his side.

“So, how’s Cooper today?” I tease, ruffling the small dog’s fur.

Canyon rolls his eyes before he chuckles. “I mean, seriously, we’ve got a moose and two shepherds that are at the clubhouse, we don’t need this little rat bastard.”

“Aw, honey, he chose you, though,” I reply. “You can’t break his heart like that. He reminds me of those stuffed dogs they sell, you know, the pound puppies?”

Canyon was out putzing around and helping Nick with some different projects the first week we were here when he heard a high yipping then saw a white and black streak headed straight to him. He braced for the unknown and was shocked when the small, curly-haired dog stopped at his feet, wagging his tail, whining, and acting like Canyon was his best friend.

Since then, Cooper follows Canyon everyfuckingwhere.

“Smokey likes him,” I cautiously state.

He does, too.

Cooper looked at Nick when Nick said something, then fell into step behind Canyon, refusing to leave him. I can still hear Nick’s laughter as he threw his hands up in the air, shaking his head and mumbling about the crazy ass brothers who tame his dogs and make them theirs.

Cooper followed us to our cabin, sat and waited to be fed, then once he and Smokey went out for the last time and Smokey curled up in the bed I got him, Cooper snuggled up in between his front paws and fell fast asleep. The two dogs have become best buds and do everything together when they aren’t working or following us around.

“You want to take him too, don’t you?” he asks.

“He already feels like family, Canyon. Plus, I think Smokey likes having a little buddy around.”

“Fine, fine. Nick, gonna need the paperwork for this little turkey too, I suppose,” Canyon says around a groan to Nick who’s been silently observing mine and Smokey’s next-to-last training session.

“I’ll have Corrie get it together for you. Oh, and while I have you here, what do you know about a shipment from Paws & Tailz?”

Canyon smirks before shrugging. “Not sure what you’re asking, brother.”

“Let me see if I can refresh your memory,” Nick retorts. “A pallet of kitten food, one of puppy food, another two with adult cat and dog food, and still another two with senior foods for both? Six pallets of dry food alone, along with one of various treats and wet food and still another ten boxes with bedding? What the fuck, brother?”

I raise my hand, smiling. “Um, that probably was me. At least indirectly,” I admit.

“How so?” Nick asks, crossing his arms across his chest, rocking back on his heels, and his tone gentling as he speaks with me.

“Because Canyon and you weren’t going to let me pay to adopt Smokey and Iknowwhat a trained dog costs. Remember, years ago, my nonni and poppa checked into getting me one, but it was out of their reach. So, all I did was say it was too bad we couldn’t help somehow because I was sure feeding all the animals who are currently here cost a mint.”

“We get grants and stuff, Chelsea, which defray training and what-not.”

“But if you got food donated, you could use those grants for other things, like more vetting for the community or maybe even some of those TNR programs I’ve heard about,” I reply.

Nick shrugs. “Me telling you no isn’t going to do any good, is it?”

Canyon starts laughing. “Brother, you have your own old lady plus your club has several. Have you ever seen it where once they made up their mind about something it didn’t go their way?”

“True, so fucking true,” Nick mutters, nodding his head in commiseration. “Okay, but it doesn’t need to become an ongoing thing, Chelsea. That’s too much.”

With my hands on my hips, I stare him down between my slitted eyelids. “Listen, once I told Patsy my idea, she was onboard because Koba saved Atlas’ and her lives. Plus, now having Ridley, she feels the same as I do. She told the other old ladies, as well as her momma and well, let’s just say it this way, the babies here will never go hungry.”

---