Excerpt from Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice:

“Dougie! You’ve got customers!”

Dinah was bouncing on her toes as two women stood at their designated pay station, their arms loaded with collars, bodysuits, and dog bowls. They each held leashes with black and white King Charles Cavaliers attached. Such cute pups. Doug had always been a big animal lover, and living with the Shaw sisters had been paradise. Between the farm animals and the foster dogs, there was always a critter to cuddle with, something he desperately needed in his life. Who could survive without cuddles?

“Awesome. Would you like any of that personalized?”

“Oh my goodness, yes, please! Could you? For Mugsy and Mojo?” 

Doug grinned at the names. “Absolutely.” He went around the table to the station he’d set up for personalizing. It was behind their booth, so he didn’t get paint anywhere it shouldn’t be. “We can put them aside to dry, and you can come back before you leave the market to pick them up.”

They were thrilled. Doug got to work with his airbrush, adding their names in script to the two bodysuits. Then he did the collars and the bowls. He was so busy, he didn’t notice that the neighbor was standing behind his booth, watching him. 

He removed his mask and started to say something, but then his neighbor had a customer. Before he knew it, Doug had spent the two hours personalizing items for their customers. 

“Phew,” Dinah said as she took a drink of her homebrewed peach tea. “It’s only eleven forty-five and we’ve already sold out of bodysuits and bowls.”

Doug stood to look at their inventory, and he wrinkled his nose. “That sucks. I mean, I’m glad we sold a lot, but I hate to see empty shelves. Hey, if you don’t mind staying out there, let me get out those doggie t-shirts I ordered and I’ll start airbrushing them. They’ll dry quick and we can hang those up. Hopefully those will be popular too.”

Dinah looked down the aisle to see that Cecily had two customers. “Let me just check with Cecily. Maybe we should think about combining our booths so I can help both of you.”

“Or we could clone you,” Doug said with a shrug. “I swear, I’ll have way more stock next time. At least we know the stuff sells.”

Dinah squeezed his shoulder. “You are a gift, Doug. With this money, we can afford for Marianne to do more rescue flights, and we won’t have to max out the credit cards to keep the fosters fed, not to mention the vet bills. That last litter of pups we took in all had respiratory infections, and that cost a pretty penny in medication.”

“You guys are doing such great work. I’m happy to contribute whatever I can. The fruits of my labor are yours.”

“At least there are some perks to the job. You get to pet cute pups all day,” she said, as Doug’s gaze drifted once more to their sullen neighbor.

He didn’t interact with the customers unless they specifically asked him questions, but he seemed to have a steady stream of folks admiring his work. Doug started picturing ways to highlight the gorgeous paintings. Weave green moss into the mesh he’d used to hang the paintings; add some fairy lights, especially since it was darker in the back corners, which made it difficult to see the intricate details in his paintings. Doug wanted to offer suggestions, but he doubted they would be welcome. 

It took him another two hours to spray paint the dog shirts he’d brought, and by the time he had them all hung up, the rest of his inventory was sold out, and Dinah’s treats were gone as well. She’d gone over to help Cecily, who was also just about out of soaps and lotions. This was wild. Doug was wondering how much money they’d made versus their costs—

“Oh, rats. I’m so sorry!”

Doug turned to look into his neighbor’s booth in time to see that a woman had bumped the mesh and one of the panels had pulled away from the canopy, which caused a few of the smaller paintings to fall onto the ground. The man was trying to hold up the mesh and bend down to pick up the paintings at the same time. The woman was older and distracted, and she wandered away from the booth to leave the owner to deal with her clumsy mess.

“How can I help?” He reached for the mesh. The guy made what Doug thought might be an appreciative grunt? If that was a thing. But then he bent down to pick up the paintings, and he cried out, his hand going to his lower back again as he caught himself on a table with his forearm. Sweat broke out on his forehead. 

“Oh man, leave those. I’ll grab them.” Doug managed to get the mesh fastened quickly, and he went to the guy’s side. “Let me help you,” he said softly. 

He could tell his neighbor didn’t want to accept his help, but he dropped his left hand into Doug’s extended right one, clasped it hard, and leaned heavily on Doug to climb back to his feet. 

“Can you get me to the trailer? Please?”

That soft voice attempted to hide the pain this man was in, and Doug wanted to give him his dignity however he could. He helped the man to the back of his booth and over to the doors of the trailer. The man used his keys to open the padlock while leaning on Doug, and then he opened the doors. He turned and took Doug’s other arm so he could lower himself to a sitting position on the trailer’s ledge.

“What can I get you? Ice? Water? Some anti-inflammatories?”

The guy was taking shallow breaths. He pointed to a water bottle on the back table of his booth. Doug reached for it and handed it over. The guy took a sip and then a few deep breaths.

“You okay for a second? Let me go grab those paintings.”

Doug went to step away, but the guy kept hold of his arm for a minute. “Thank you,” he said, locking Doug in place with those sharp eyes.