Courting Chloe (Hudson Valley Heroes Book 1) Read Free Page A

the dog. “Good luck, boy,” she murmured, giving the dog an encouraging pat before heading back to her office.
    Leash in hand, Chloe strode down the facility’s main aisle. She was greeted on all sides by the excited barks and whines of the other kenneled dogs. The chocolate lab remained alert to the attention, but did not react. A young girl of perhaps six or seven, visiting the shelter with her family, impulsively threw her arms around the lab’s neck to give him a hug. The chocolate leaned into the embrace and wagged his tail.
    Good boy , Chloe encouraged silently, adding another positive mark to her ongoing appraisal of the dog.
    The shelter’s evaluation room was a purely utilitarian space. It was on the smallish side, with plain white walls and worn wooden benches on opposing sides. The cement floors were painted battleship gray and had a small drain in the center to accommodate frequent hosing. The best part of the room was that it opened into an outdoor fenced courtyard (no bigger than Chloe’s kitchen), but it allowed dogs an opportunity to get some fresh air and enjoy the feel of grass beneath their paws.
    Chloe dropped the lab’s lead and watched as he bolted outside. Not surprising. The allure of a stranger was minimal compared to the fascinating scents of an outdoor space that had been frequented by other canines—particularly for a dog that had been cooped up alone in a kennel.
    She seated herself on one of the benches and watched the lab move. No obvious hip problems or joint weakness, she noted. His hearing seemed fine. When a car door slammed in the parking lot, he quirked an ear in that direction. Apparently sensing no threat, he returned to his business. His nose planted in the grass, he exhaled sharply, and then dragged in a deep, long sniff, collecting data about the dogs that had been there before him. He marked a small shrub, adding his own scent to the heady canine mixture, and then proudly tufted the grass with his rear legs.
    Good enough, Chloe thought. Time to get to work.
    “Here, boy,” she called. “Come.”
    Remaining seated, she leaned forward slightly and wiggled her fingers, encouraging the dog to approach her. The majority of shelter dogs hadn’t had any formal training, so she wasn’t looking for an understanding of the command ‘come’. That could easily be taught. Rather, she wanted a dog with innate confidence, approachability, and—this was critical—a desire to please. Without that drive it was unlikely he’d ever make the cut as a service dog. A dog that ignored her, cowered in fear, or showed any sign of aggression could still find a happy home somewhere—just not with her. Fortunately the dog turned, regarding her curiously.
    “C’mere, boy,” she coaxed. “Let me take a look at you.”
    Giving a cautious wag of his tail, the dog trotted over. He sniffed her intently, and then nuzzled his wet nose into her lap. Chloe smiled and stroked his chest. “Well, hello to you, too. Aren’t you a friendly beast?”
    Once she and the lab established a degree of comfort with each other, she spent the next fifteen minutes running through her evaluation. First, a standard physical assessment. The dog was a bit chubby, but not grossly overweight. Not enough exercise, she guessed. No sign of cataracts, his ears were clean and odor-free, and his teeth showed only mild evidence of tartar. Lightly running her hands over his body, she felt no bumps, abnormal swelling, signs of tenderness or other ‘ouchy’ areas. Rather than pulling away, he leaned into her, seemingly enjoying the massage. Another plus. The dog liked bodily contact.
    She eased him into a down position and then rolled him onto his side to rub his belly. The lab calmly accepted the stroking. He didn’t stiffen, nor did he roll completely onto his back. Perfect. A dog that resisted the position might have too much Alpha in his personality. On the other end of the spectrum, a dog that was too submissive and