The examination didn’t take long. Ever since the legalization of cannabis and cannabis-related products—especially edibles—the number of accidental canine overdoses had been growing. Dogs never could resist fresh-baked goods, regardless of what was in them. While dangerous, eating them was rarely life-threatening, which seemed to be the case here.

“There wasn’t anything chocolate in the bread, was there?” he asked, glancing up at the woman who’d come in to watch the exam take place. From the look of concern on her well-lined face, he was guessing this was the infamous Mrs. Orson.

“No…oh, no,” she murmured. “Ruby made us throw out all the chocolate in the house weeks ago. The chips and cookies, too.”

Spencer hid a smile at the outrage in the woman’s voice. Ruby hadn’t been pleased with his initial dietary advice, but it was obvious she’d been determined to see it through, even against a sweet old lady’s wishes. Which was just like Ruby. Although she might not like a thing, she gritted her teeth and pushed through.

Even the way she was sitting on the bedroom floor, her whole body vibrating with the need to scratch at her red-welted skin, made him want to pull her in his arms and kiss her. She was uncomfortable and unhappy, and her day was about to get a lot worse, but not by so much as a flutter of her eyelashes did she let it show.

“Well, the good news is, Wheezy isn’t going to die,” he announced.

In true Ruby fashion, she was quick to pick up his real meaning. “What’s the bad news?”

“He isn’t going to like my recommended treatment.”

“If things are that bad, why are you smiling at me?”

He smiled wider. “Because you’re not going to like my recommended treatment, either.” He reached for his veterinary bag. “How are you at giving enemas?”

Chapter 17

Ruby itched all over. Her face was a splotchy mess, she was urine-soaked and sitting on a bathroom floor, and she was holding a syringe that Spencer had just pulled out of Wheezy’s butt. There seemed no possible way for this day to get worse.

“I came as soon as I heard what happened,” a male voice said—a whining, nasally, walrus-y male voice. “How could you let this happen, Ruby? What were you thinking?”

Ruby closed her eyes and prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

It didn’t.

Aware that Spencer was watching her with the intensity of a man who was trained to diagnose problems on sight, she stretched her lips into a smile and turned to face Harry. She had no idea how he knew about Wheezy’s mishap or why Mrs. Orson had allowed him inside the house, but he’d obviously come running the second he heard.