To Olivia’s surprise, it worked. The pointer stopped jerking backward, and his ears pricked forward. The guy moved one of the treats around on top of his fingertips until the pointer’s mouth opened in an excited pant, then tossed it a few feet in front of him.

After the treat was inhaled with a quick flick of the dog’s tongue, the guy opened the door again. He stuck a doorstop into the bottom of the frame with his foot, then headed inside, dropping treats every few feet as he went.

After looking her way as if to make sure she was coming, too, the dog walked in cautiously, eyeing the counters and bright gift shop and the mural on the far wall as if any of them might come to life at any second. Perhaps because he was still adjusting to having regular meals again, the treats proved enticing enough to draw him inside.

“Kick out the doorstop once he’s all the way in.”

Stretching her leg behind her as far as it would go, Olivia managed to kick out the stop while the attentive pointer munched a fresh treat. As the door swung closed, the dog’s tail tucked tighter against his rear, and he let out a plaintive whine. Olivia felt a pang in her heart as his solemn brown eyes bore into hers before darting around his new surroundings.

“He was close to slipping his collar,” the guy said, focusing on her for the first time. “We bring adult dogs in through the back. It’s less stressful on them. And we can get them directly into quarantine.”

Quarantine? While that sounded less than pleasant, Olivia determined to remain as nonreactive as possible. Ava had given her word that the staff here would take great care of him. “Thanks for your help. I guess his collar needs to be tightened. I’m not sure how used to situations like this he is.”

“You mean being surrendered?”

She felt about two inches tall and fully responsible for his impending abandonment even though she wasn’t. “Ah, yeah, and honestly, just being indoors. He lived in a pen outdoors in a very remote area.”

He nodded. “That’s a considerable change of environment.”

“I, uh, believe you knew we were coming?”

“Yes. This is the German shorthair from Rhonda and Karen’s rescue. And you’re Olivia Graham.”

Olivia blinked. Maybe it was just her, but he seemed a touch socially awkward, just not in a gawky, insecure way. More like in an I-prefer-not-to-talk-to-people-unless-I-have-to way. “It’s nice to meet you, er…”

“Patrick Wobrice, facilities manager and intake coordinator.” He nodded in her direction but returned his attention to the pointer. “Do you want to see quarantine? He’ll be in there a minimum of three days. Once he gets a clean bill of health, he’ll be brought up to the main kennels.”