Fur and Phobia
Julia Talbot
Deb searched through her Rolodex, looking for a particular number, her long, painted nails clacking on the plastic as she flipped. The cards were all neat, organized, little labels pasted on the cards. It wasn't an issue of organization, really. It was an issue of memory.
Under A for 'Aaron'?
W for 'Weiler'?
T for 'Trainer'?
M for 'Man's Best'...
Bingo!
She grinned, plucked the car out and dialed, pencil tapping impatiently on her desk as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.
"Oh, for the love of ... Oh! Aaron, darling! It's Dr. Ballard. How are you, dear?"
"Hey, Doc." Deb could hear dogs barking in the background as Aaron answered, the phone clunking against something and Aaron grunting. "How's it hanging, lady?"
She chuckled, pushing her curls off her shoulder. "Oh, dearest. Life is delicious, as always. It sounds wonderfully busy for you. The kennel full?" She did adore Aaron, from top to bottom. Such an interesting man, so good with dumb animals.
"Uh-huh. And the living room, the backyard and the run..." A low chuckle came across the line, masculine and happy. "So what can I do for you, Doc?"
"I have a client, lovely. A sweet, smart lady with a bit of a problem that I think you're the perfect cure for."
"Yeah? Darn it, Mop, you big hairy freak. Get down. Sorry. What sort of a problem?"
Deb tugged Abby's file over, flipped it open. "She's a horticulturist. Researches plants. Quite clever at it, too. Just finished grad. school. Unfortunately, she has an unreasonable cynophobia that's preventing her from doing her job."
"Well, that's not good. Lots of dogs out in people's yards." He laughed again, and she could hear the crunch of large teeth on a bone. "There, you monstrous beast. I can take the referral, sure. How do you want me to play it? Tough love or slow introduction?"
"Mmm..." Now there was a fun question. "I can see benefits to either method. She's not a shrinking violet, but she's definitely a girl."
"Well, Doc, you're the shrink. I don't want to damage her psyche forever doing it the wrong way."
"Now, now. Are you suggesting you might do it the wrong way?" She chuckled, chewing on the end of her pen. "I'd start easy, darling. Let her relax. You can always be hard after."
That got a bark of laughter that had her grinning right along. Really, he had the best disposition. "Okay. Set it up for me to meet her somewhere else to begin with, then. Lunch, or something."
"How about Fellini's? They've got a little of everything. How does tomorrow sound? Say noon-ish?"
"That sounds fine. I'll leave Lee in charge of the kennel. Thanks for the job, Doc."
"Anytime, darling. Stop by sometime for coffee. We'll chat."
Well, she'd ogle. He could chat.
"You got it, Deb. Oh, by the way, tell your cousin that she can pick up the poodle anytime. He doesn't chew his fur out anymore."
Sweet, sweet boy.
"Thank you, honey. I'll let Abby know. Oh! Her name's Abigail Mann. Blonde, green eyes, sweet little thing--she'll be looking for you."
A low growl came through, but not an unhappy one. "Oh. That sounds nice. I'll be looking for her too. See you, Doc."
"Goodbye, darling. Enjoy her and do keep me informed."
She chuckled to herself as she hung up the phone. That was, after all, the very best part.
Being informed.
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