Thomas pictured the scene again. He'd found Scott Slick on his kitchen floor, dead for days, the ugly dog keeping guard at his owner's side, shaking, hungry, and scared. It was the most pitiful thing he'd ever seen.

Yeah, separation anxiety and panic attacks sounded right on the mark.

"Dogs always do things for a reason," Emma continued. "In Hairy's mind, these behaviors make perfect sense-they accomplish something for him. Will his former owner be taking him back anytime soon?"

"I sure doubt it."

Emma offered him a reassuring smile. "I realize Hairy is a challenge right now, but with relaxation exercises, a consistent house-training regimen, medicine, and a little time, I think everything's going to be fine."

Thomas looked down on the shivering dog and winced. What had he done? Why had he taken this damn dog home with him? How long would he be stuck with him? Would the dog really have to wear a Kotex?

He started to feel queasy.

"Do you have any questions at this point?"

"No."

"Are you all right?"

"Perfect, thanks."

Emma spent the next forty minutes demonstrating the relaxation exercises and working with Thomas and Hairy until they got it right. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Thomas caught on rather quickly.

After making sure the urine test results were normal, she walked Thomas and Hairy to checkout, where she gave them their discharge instructions, shopping list, follow-up schedule, and prescriptions.

Then she slipped into the back hallway, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes tight.

She felt like she'd been hit by a truck.

What had just happened in there? A grouchy dullard with some sort of personality disorder had just made her hormones throb, her skin tingle, and her panties smolder. It was as if her body had been on autopilot, responding to pheromones and electrical charges that had nothing to do with polite behavior or even common sense.