Free Déjà Date by Susan Hatler

evaluate which would be the most self-sufficient. As soon as I sat down in the corner by myself, a little brown dog with a long back trotted over, and started jumping on me.
    “Down, doggy. Down ,” I said, sternly. But the pup ignored my commands, and continued to lick my face, arms, and any spot it could get its wet tongue on. Then it stopped suddenly and started hacking.
    Hagh! Hagh!
    “You don’t want that one.” Sarah’s brows came together. “Definitely high maintenance. I rescued her from the pound yesterday, and I’m pretty sure she has kennel cough.” She shook her head. “It’s likely she’ll need antibiotics. Plus, I noticed flakes of skin all over her coat, which could be from malnourishment. I’ll have to take her to the vet, which I’m guessing will be a hefty bill.”
    Hagh! Hagh! The short wiener dog arched her chin forward as she coughed again, choking as if she might keel over at any second. Then she stopped abruptly, quieted, and paused as if waiting for her coughing fit to continue. When it didn’t, she shook her head, ears flapping about her. Then her dark-eyed gaze met mine and she began jumping on me with vigor, attacking me with her wet tongue.
    “Sit! Sit!” I instructed, but it was no use. The dog continued to assault me with her energetic licks and she couldn’t get close enough. I leaned away, pressing my back against the metal fence, but she wiggled onto my lap and began sniffing under my arms. “Stop!”
    “Come over here, Melinda!” Mary Ann called out from across the dog run. “I’ve found the perfect dog for you! He such a good boy.”
    Blocking my face from the crazy hot dog invading my personal space, I turned in time to see Mary Ann point to the ground.
    She circled her finger in the air. “Roll over. Now . . . sit .”
    The pretty black dog with the shiny coat followed her commands, then sat quietly at attention waiting for the next instruction.
    “Isn’t he great?” Mary Ann called out. “Come check him out.”
    I fought to push to my feet, but the little brown pup—which had to be some kind of dachshund mix—pounced on me. Her obviously too-long nails scratched my arms, and when I managed to wring myself free, my sleeves had snags. “Oh, no!”
    “I’ll come get her from you,” Sarah said, apparently sensing my distress.
    As I heard the metal gate squeak open, I used both of my hands to hold the squirmy little dog down. But the chaotic wiener dog wiggled erratically, struggling to get free so she could no doubt find a spot of me to slobber on.
    “Come here, girl.” Sarah lifted her away from me, holding the pup in the crook of her elbow, and the chaos stopped.
    I fought to catch my breath now that the struggle was over, and for some reason I glanced up. A dark-brown gaze met mine, staring at me wide-eyed, with a look of longing. Then something happened. The seal around my heart cracked, slipping away like hot liquid, leaving a long forgotten spot exposed.
    I reached toward her. “Wait . . .”
    Sarah swiveled. With a look of confusion, she placed the wiener dog into my outstretched arms, and quietly stepped away.
    “Hi, girl,” I said, holding her against me.
    She whimpered with joy, scrambling up my chest with her two front paws as if she couldn’t get close enough to me. Her wet nose brushed my chin and she began licking my cheek repeatedly, her tail swooping back and forth behind her.
    “What do you think?” I asked, staring into her brown eyes. With a shaky hand, I rubbed behind her ears, and she pushed her nose into my palm, finding a new licking spot. And in that one little nudge, my heart melted, and there was no more fighting it.
    I knew she was mine.
    ****
    On Wednesday morning Bernie’s Realtor, Wendy Watts, dropped in to say she had an interested buyer coming to tour the bakery and building on Friday, and my heart pretty much stopped. As Wendy rattled on about the importance of having everything in perfect order for the showing, a wave