Tats ran up and down his muscular white arms. His military-haircut cropped head caught the light as he walked up to me. I glanced up, up, up at him from the newspaper pile I was sorting.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"Ah, um, yes..." He looked slightly uncomfortable- embarrassed. They all do when you talk to them, as if they're wrong to be here.
"I'd like to see the puppy in cage one?" A question. He's uncertain.
"Sure." I hopped up off my chair and trotted over to the leash rack, selecting a lovely pink and brown leash. I followed the muscle bound Marine through the kennels, to the first cage. A small beagle-lab-mutt puppy leapt up at the cage gate. The brick wall of a man stopped in front of me, just short of the gate. I glanced up at the back of his hulking head.
"Ah..." I mumbled. The Marine glanced behind himself at me.
"Oh! Um..." Carefully, we maneuvered ourselves so that I could reach the gate and release the puppy. I leashed him (the pup, not the Marine) and took him to the outside visitation runs. I let the puppy off his leash and shut the door behind Tattoo Man.
All of a sudden, the serious, cool, collected facade dropped from his face. I watched as the Marine dropped to his knees and started coddling the puppy. He picked it up and tossed it up in the air. He put it down and got down at it's level. I watched as the Marine crawled around on the cement with the pup. After about ten minutes, he looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes. Please? he begged. I grinned and laughed.
"I think you do those puppy dog eyes better than the puppy does." I took the Marine up front and drew up the pup's adoption contract.
Another happy Ending
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