Sweet Tibby Mack

Walking along the street to her car, Tibby caught her reflection in the window of a shoe store. Her steps slowed. Was her braid outdated? Or was it her loose-fitting cotton dresses? She’d noticed that both the secretary and receptionist in the attorney’s office wore suits with shorter skirts. No, by darn. Tibby gripped the shoulder strap of her purse. She liked her hair long, and she’d grown up wearing dresses. They were cool and comfortable, good for bending and stocking shelves.

Tibby stopped at a café for lunch. The place was crowded. The harried hostess acted as if it was a crime to eat alone when Tibby asked for single seating. Once they managed to squeeze her in, Tibby felt as if she had come with a crowd, since the tables were pushed so close together. Two couples on her left knew the people on her right, and talk more or less flowed over her.

As she dug into her salad, she realized that a majority of the men and women in the restaurant were paired up. Contemplating that, Tibby pretended interest in her forkful of greens. Before Justine and Mr. Harcourt had pointed out her social impairment, she’d never given it much thought. Was that how Cole saw her? Naive and inexperienced? A country mouse? He must know a bevy of sophisticated women.

Embarrassed at the thought, Tibby requested her check and left the majority of her lunch untouched. Awareness of her own inadequacies always made her heart trip over itself.

Only after she was safe in her station wagon did her heart settle and the trembling stop. Flirting wasted time. She had no need for such skills. A dog was what she needed to keep her company, and a dog she would have.

Less than half an hour later, she pulled into the shelter parking lot. Sharp barks and mournful baying pulsed from the building. Goodness, she thought as she entered the reception room, this might be a bad idea. So many dogs needing homes—how would she ever choose?

“May I help you?” A pretty girl with soft brown eyes greeted her over the din.

“I want to adopt a pet,” Tibby explained. “A dog.”

“A puppy, you mean?”

Tibby gave the question some thought. “Do you have any that are young but already trained?”

“We have a beautiful Pekingese. Very well mannered. Her owner died, and the woman’s daughter lives in an apartment where they don’t allow pets.”

“Oh, how sad.” Tibby’s heart turned over. “I had in mind something bigger, though. Like a guard dog.”

“That’s too bad. Peek-a-boo only has another twenty-four hours.” The girl’s brown eyes misted. “I’ve tried so hard to find her a home, but everyone I know is full up. I’ll even throw in food and a doggie dish.”

Tibby’s forehead puckered. “I know an elderly lady whose Yorkshire terrier died. She’d had her sixteen years. I wonder…She was brokenhearted. Still is.”

“Oh, do you think?” The girl sounded hopeful. “Could you call her?”

Tibby smiled. “I believe I’ll surprise her. It’s too easy to say no over the phone. It’s much harder to refuse a gift.”

“You’re a woman after my own heart. But I’ve given so many dogs as gifts, I’m almost out of friends.” The two shared a conspiratorial grin. “Now that Peek-a-boo has a home,” the receptionist said briskly, “let’s go choose you a pet.”

Tibby shook her head. “Do you mind picking one and bringing it out here? If I go in, I’ll want them all.”

“We have a young Great Dane. The man who brought him in claimed that when they got him they didn’t realize he’d grow so fast. It was a family of four, and all of a sudden they had twins. Between two babies and a growing pup needing attention, I guess it was too much.” She shook her head. “There are laws against giving away your kids, but people don’t think twice about dumping their pets.”

Tibby couldn’t bear to imagine what happened to throwaway pets. “The Dane sounds fine. May I see him, please?”

The girl disappeared through a set of double doors almost before Tibby finished speaking. The din rose unbearably. Tibby wondered how many dogs they had. A short time later the attendant returned. She cuddled a pugfaced champagne-gold dog. At her side trotted a sleek but massive tan dog with dark velvet eyes. He got down on his belly and wriggled toward Tibby. Then he raised a paw and rolled over. Tibby’s heart was lost. She knelt and scratched his chest, then his ears. “He’s perfect. What do I have to do to adopt him?”

The young woman explained the shelter’s policy, and Tibby paid the nominal fees. “I almost forgot,” she said, stowing her receipt. “Does my dog have a name?”

“Ah, uh, you might want to change it. The boys in the family named him Exterminator.” The girl made a face.

“Exterminator.” Tibby tried it out A smile twitched. Perhaps Cole O’Donnell wouldn’t be so cavalier about bulldozing his way over her property faced off against a dog called Exterminator. “But it’s just a name, right? I mean, he wouldn’t, you know, really go for the jugular or anything.” Tibby’s smile faltered:

The attendant laughed. “Just don’t hold red licorice close to a main artery. According to his former owner, the Dane has a sweet tooth. I guess that was the last straw. He ruined one of the kid’s birthday cakes. He can smell chocolate a mile away, and it’s hazardous to a dog. Our vet had a box of M&Ms in her purse. Exterminator nosed open the zipper and had the pack out by the time she caught him. Darn—they told me not to mention that. Now you’ll want to give him back, I expect.” She sighed.

Tibby considered for a moment. She stocked very little candy. Some of the residents were diabetics. She baked using raisins and blueberries. On rare occasions, carob chips. “Not a problem,” she said at last. “He can’t eat what isn’t there. As of now, he’s a health-food dog.”

Pulling away from the shelter, she wondered if it was safe to leave the dogs in her car while she ran in to Mr. Harcourt’s office to collect the letter. A needless concern, as it turned out. Both were apparently seasoned travelers. Exterminator claimed the rear of the station wagon and Peek-a-boo the front. The small dog made three revolutions then settled close to Tibby’s hip as they headed home. If Millie didn’t want her, Tibby decided, she’d take them both. She had a big house and no one with whom to share it.

The sad fact brought a catch to her breathing—heightened by a fleeting vision of Cole O’Donnell as he looked today. But he’d always been ruggedly handsome. She was the one who’d changed. Matured. Still, she was nowhere near as comfortable in her skin as he was in his.

Cole hadn’t said who he was entertaining this weekend. But he planned to serve angel-hair pasta and fine wine. Tibby would bet the store it wasn’t a male associate. She exhaled harshly as her spirits plummeted.

Exterminator reached over the back of her seat, whined and licked her ear. “Ooh.” She hunched a shoulder, then stroked his cold nose. “If you’re saying I should forget that charming rat, you’re absolutely right. But it’s easier said than done.”

The dog whiffled in response and placed a paw on her braid. Their two heads bobbed together in the rearview mirror. “Why do I need a man when I’ve got you?” she murmured. Apparently reassured, he bounded off to stare out the rear window again.

Once Tibby reached Yaqui Springs, her first stop was at Mildred Hopkins’s small mobile. As usual Millie sat rocking on her tiny porch. There was a time when her vegetable gardens had flourished. She’d let them go to seed after her husband died and stopped working in them altogether after losing her pet—as if she’d given up on life.

Braking outside the peeling picket fence, Tibby instructed the Dane to stay. The older woman ceased her listless rocking as Tibby climbed from her car.

“What’s that you’re bringing me, Tibby Mack? If it’s’ another casserole, you may as well take it home. The last two are still in my freezer.”

“No food today, Mildred.” Although it was on her list. After Henrietta mentioned that Millie had stopped cooking for herself, Tibby made it a point to drop by with nutritious offerings.

Peek-a-boo yawned sleepily and squirmed in her arms. Tibby strove to juggle dog, food and dish in order to close the gate. She knelt and slipped everything except the dog behind a wilting bush. “I went into town today, Millie, and I stopped by the animal shelter to get a dog. You know how I rattle around in Gram’s big old house by myself.”

Mildred’s eyes focused inward, as if she’d drifted away a moment. “Don’t pay to get attached to man nor beast, girl. Comes a time when they all leave you.”

“Not by choice, Mildred. The world is full of people and animals who could use a friend. Take Peek-a-boo, for instance. If I hadn’t gone to the shelter today, she would’ve been destroyed.” Tibby set the little dog down. The dog leaped right into Millie’s lap and snuggled in.

“Git. What are you doing? I’m not your mama. Tibby is.”

Tibby noticed the weathered fingers tugging gently at the dog’s silky ears. And she also noticed the doggie smile on Peek-a-boo’s face. “I wanted a bigger dog, Millie. I chose a Great Dane. But I couldn’t bear to walk away and leave this one to her fate.” Tibby sighed. “I’m afraid I promised to find her a home.”

“Oh, well…may be Winnie and Joe.”

“No. They’re always flitting hither and yon. Peek-a-boo lived with a retired lady. She’s content to sit and rock.”

“Mabel, then.” The woman scratched the dog under the chin.

“She’s off baby-sitting her grandchildren too often to take really good care of a dog, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose she is. I’d take her myself, but—”

“Would you? Mildred, you’re a lifesaver. Or I should say, a dog-saver.” Tibby suppressed a grin. “She comes with food and a dish. She’s been spayed and has all her shots.” Tibby grabbed the things from where she’d stashed them and piled them on the porch. “Well, I’d better run. Justine’s watching the store, and I’ve been gone longer than I’d planned. The dog’s name is Peek-a-boo, remember.”

Tibby all but ran from the yard. She didn’t want to give Mildred time to reconsider. As it turned out, she probably needn’t have rushed. Looking back as she pulled away from the curb, she saw Millie talking nonstop and the Pekingese’s tail waving like a flag in a stiff breeze.

“Yes!” Tibby punched the air with a fist. “It’s a match made in heaven, Exterminator,” she murmured smugly; rubbing her pet’s huge square nose.

Her good humor evaporated a bit as she passed the O’Donnell place. Cole stood with two men—strangers—on a hill of blooming sage. All three checked clipboards they held, then gestured wildly. Tibby wondered what the trio was up to. If she wasn’t so late, she’d stop and deliver Harcourt’s letter. It was well after four; surely he couldn’t start tearing up the landscape tonight.

Parking in her normal spot, Tibby hopped out and hurried into the store. Exterminator padded at her heels.