With that admonition still ringing in my ear, I arrived at the shelter on Saturday morning, hopeful for the first time in years.
When I got to the office, Sheldon was on the phone. He waved at me as I walked by him to sign in and drop my bag in the corner.
He hung up and then stood to walk around the desk and sit on the edge. “Come here.”
I sauntered over to him and stopped near his knees. He pulled me closer, between his legs, and wrapped his arms around my neck. I placed my hands tentatively on his hips.
“Good morning,” he said. His breath had a hint of mint and coffee.
“Hi.” I still felt a little shy in his presence.
“I see you didn’t shave again today.” He nuzzled my scruff a little.
“I remembered you liked that,” I replied, leaning into him.
“Oh, so you were thinking about me,
