Just as I am checking through the kennels making sure all the animals have their night feeding, my after hours phone rings.

"Paws Care Vet Clinic, this is Samantha." I answer.

"Hi, I got your card from an Officer and he mentioned you have after hours for emergencies." A deep man's voice comes over the line.

"Yes, I do. What seems to be wrong with your pet?" I ask him, snapping out of the dreamy voice because an animal needs me from the way the man's voice wavers slightly.

"I'm not sure what may be wrong exactly. My dog was attacked with a baseball bat and whines while I gently move over his abdomen area, as well as a small limp when he got sat up."

"Bring him in to see me. I need to make sure he doesn't have any type of internal injury from the blunt force trauma." I rush over to a room and start pulling things out.

"I have your address on the card. Do you happened to have area for a semi to park?"

His question takes me off guard.

"There is a wide field next to the clinic if the parking lot isn't enough room." I reply, since I honestly have no earthly idea how much room he needs.

Lola would be the better one to answer that question. She tends to take care of the delivery we get when it comes by the truck load that large and I just sign the papers.

I wait by the front door and can see when a semi starts to get close and slow down. The cab part is parked on the side of the building so all I can see is the large enclosed trailer. The windows were dark with it being night fall now to get a glimpse of the driver.

A deep voice like that though had to be sinful. I'm just curious if the body is up to par with his voice really.

Just because I don't trust guys and haven't for years doesn't mean I don't look. Or get some time in with the ones I know are players just to satisfy some needs in the past.

A tall muscular man carries a chocolate lab up towards the door. I step out and hold the door open for him.

"Room 1." I can only get that out of my mouth with a closer look of the guy.

He is definitely muscular with how they bludge and he seems to carry an easily sixty pound dog like it is nothing. The blood on his head and in his hair is another reason words escape me.

What has this guy been through?

With a quick flip of the lock after shutting the door back, I rush to the room I had the guy go in.

"Place him on the table for me please." I put on gloves.

I hand the guy some gauze pads from the drawer.

"You should place this over your eye to stop the bleeding." I grimace.

"Thank you. Are you Samantha?" His voice is even better in person.

"Yes, I am. Who do I have here?" I slowly stroke the dogs fur on his head. His tail thumps letting me know his pain isn't to much for him to get his response.

"Tanker." The guy replies.

I slowly start to talk with Tanker but he turns his nose up at the dog biscuit I offer him. I furrow my brows and feel over his abdomen area, where everything is nice and soft. Which is good meaning he doesn't have any organs that were damaged or bleeding in his abdomen currently. My hands move over his leg and Tanker moves to lick my arm again just like he done while checking his abdomen area.

"Well I don't feel anything that is cause for concern. However, I still want to get an x-ray done to rule everything out. Is that okay with you?" I look up to the guy.

"Anything for Tanker." The guys sighs.

"I'm Shane by the way. Thanks for seeing him tonight." His voice rumbles again.

"This is what I do best and live for Shane. An animal in need can always come here and I will do everything I can to help." I give a soft smile, Shane still seems a little tense.

I don't bother asking questions about what exactly happen. Shane gave me enough over the phone with the object used against Tanker and the rest is his business after all. It's clear Shane didn't inflict the injuries, so there is nothing for me to question.

Shane follows everywhere I take Tanker, which shows how much he cares for him. Something that does warm my heart.

"Tanker's x-rays come back shows there is a slight bleed in this section here." I point it out to Shane.

"His leg is bruised but will be fine within a couple of days. This bleed though, I have to watch closely to make sure it stops without needing surgery done. So for tonight Tanker will need to stay here in the clinic." I softly talk to Shane, who looks anxious even though he tries to hide it.

"Can I stay with him? Please." Shane looks at me as he pets Tanker.

I look around because it is something I have never had asked by an owner before.

"I drive over the road and I can't leave him here. If I get tired, then I'll get in my sleeper but I promise not to touch or mess with anything."

I let out a small sigh. "I'll be here all night so he wouldn't be alone. If it is because of the kennels, I can keep him next to me and my pets since Tanker seems well behaved." I give him a soft smile.

"Tanker is my service dog, he helps me when I need it. It doesn't feel right not being here for him when he has been there for me." Shane almost whispers.

A pang of sadness runs through me. I didn't realize that Shane was in need of a service animal. Maybe it is for diabetes? I know that doesn't have any outside appearances.

Once again though not my place to ask about more.

"Okay with Tanker being your service dog, I will allow you to stay within the clinic with him. Just please don't tell anyone I let you do this." I plead.