The Littlest Hero : : Anne McAllister

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes. We're used to dealing with the tall, dark, handsome ones with rock-hard abs, a killer grin or a fierce, brooding stare. And a little hint of stubble on the jaw doesn't hurt.  I spend plenty of days with men like that -- and I love them all.

But many evenings and some holidays and vacations I spend with another hero. His name is Mac.  He is, to misquote Julie Cohen, Not Even Our Dog  (Julie has Not Even Our Cat in her life).  We have Mac in ours.

He came to our friend Nancy's home as a 3 year old after he was rescued by a diligent neighbor from a less than wonderful situation. He was, to put it mildly, a mess.  When we met him he had been shaved to within an inch of his life. He looked awful, but apparently he had looked much worse -- matted and filthy -- before the neighbor stepped in.  She, however, had several dogs of her own, and needed a good home for Mac.

Nancy's home fit the bill.  Nancy is the perfect mother for Mac.  He has always had a mind of his own -- and plans to go with it -- and she has simply learned to deal.

Mac believes in being well-fed.  Nancy thinks he should be fit.  Most of the time they manage both. But when Mac feels short-changed, he is, er, enterprising.  When she came home from church one Sunday, she rang me to say, "He's eaten a whole tray of chocolate-covered macaroons!"  I had trouble believing that.  Not without leaving a crumb. Mac is not that fastidious. Besides, a whole tray of macaroons, particularly chocolate-covered ones, ought to make anyone sick, especially a 25 lb. dog.

I said, "When he stayed with us, and I gave him a rawhide, he didn't eat it. He took it upstairs and buried it in one of the beds." (savaging a sheet in the process).  "Maybe he did that with the macaroons. Check the beds."

Well, only put one in a bed, underneath her daughter's pillow.  H had, very diligently, distributed the rest of them all over her house. She found a macaroon behind the sofa, another behind the chair. There was one tucked under the piano, one down in the basement next to the washing machine.  He was appalled to watch her find them -- and pretty quickly he tried damage control by running ahead of her to rescue them before she could pick them up.

I have found myself wishing ever since that she had security cameras in her house that would have captured his original treks here and there, hiding them all for future consumption! I think it would have made YouTube's top ten!

He has done plenty of other amazing and occasionally heroic (but mostly funny) things in his life.  But his most amazing accomplishment is that he's still with us.

When she got him, the vet told her he had an enlarged heart.  For several years it didn't seem to have any effect on him. But a year ago last August he got a terrible cough.  For such a small dog, his cough sounded like a mastiff imitating a fog horn.  Daunting -- and scary -- to say the least.

It was his heart, the vet said.  He was well into congestive heart failure.  He was only seven.  It was a wrenching thought to consider she might lose him so young.  He coughed on.  And he went on long walks.  He rummaged in the recycled paper looking for wrappers that might be tasty. He coughed. He carried sticks around.  He sat on the back of the sofa and monitored traffic. He coughed.  He walked even longer walks.  He chased his favorite blue ball. And still he coughed.

He survived her trip to Jamestown (he stayed with us), and her trip to Costa Rica (he stayed with us) and visits to her grandkids (he went -- and happily came back to cough some more and go for walks). He began to suffer from edema.  His normally fit body began to sag under the weight of the fluid he was retaining. But still he walked. And rummaged. And ate. The chasing of Blue Ball receded somewhat.  That was difficult.

He soldiered on.  A month ago, he had three pounds of fluid drained. He ran up the steps. He walked.  He considered Blue Ball, but didn't get too much of a thrill out of chasing it.  He dreamed of macaroons.  And the edema continued to plague him.

Yesterday he went back to the vet. This time she drained 8 pounds of fluid -- that's 1/4 of his body weight! -- a gallon.  And he ran up the steps when he came to visit last night.  He continues to have great joy in life.

We know he's not going to have many more weeks, months, years left.  We're astonished he has had as much as he has (so is the vet).  But we are all grateful for his presence.  He is a hero, dealing with the not very nice hand that he's been dealt, and doing so with aplomb and a joie de vivre that I personally hope that I can emulate.

I've celebrated dogs and cats in many blog pieces in various places over the years -- often in remembrance of a life well lived and deeply loved.  In this case it seems fitting to celebrate Mac whose life is still a Work In Progress.

He just may have a hero named after him before long.  That hero will have a lot to live up to.

Anne's latest, The Return of Antonides, Lukas's story, was out last month from Harlequin Presents and Harlequin Mills & Boon Modern.

Waiting for a Hero -- Anne McAllister

A few years back Tallie Savas and Elias Antonides took up residence in my head when her father outfoxed his father, and, as a result, named Tallie president of Antonides Marine. Elias, who had rescued the company -- and the family -- from dire financial straits by dint of unrelenting work, was not pleased.

He didn't like Tallie.  He didn't like her father. He didn't much like his own father, to be honest. He was Feeling Hard Done By, to be sure.  Tallie who Only Wanted To Be Taken Seriously as a business person (her father, despite naming her president, wasn't exactly doing that), felt she had a lot to prove -- to her father, to Elias, to the world.

The sparks that flew between them in The Antonides Marriage Deal only complicated matters.

So did their siblings. They both had plenty of siblings. And cousins. Enough so that I've been writing a bout these Savas and Antonides families for what seems like half my writing life (though it's probably really only been a third!).  If one family didn't have a sibling ready to get hitched, there was always a cousin ready to take the plunge (or be pushed).

Even Peter Antonides, the middle son, about whom I had no intention at all of ever writing a book, because he was already married, for goodness' sake (because he had reinvented himself in Hawaii, called himself PJ, and rescued a damsel in distress by making her his wife), found that she wanted a divorce and he had to win her

back.

But I always thought I'd write about Lukas, the youngest son, because he just seemed like a hero-in-waiting.  (Sometimes they actually line up and pester me, saying, "My turn. Write about me!"

Not Lukas. He was too busy having a grand time elsewhere in the world. He went walkabout, more or less, about the end of his second year at NYU. He went off to deal with a family issue in Greece on his father's behalf (or so he said) that May, and when the school year rolled in September, Lukas was nowhere to be found.

He almost never came back. Only for weddings where he was obliged to put in an appearance.  And never -- he was clear about this -- as the groom.

At first I didn't think anything about it.  When I got his twin sister Martha married off to Theo Savas in The Santorini Bride, he showed up for the wedding, pointed Theo in the direction of Montana when required, and went straight back to wherever he had been before the wedding.  I didn't see him again for a couple of years.

He reappeared for PJ's wedding.  He didn't make an appearance, as I recall, for any of the Savas cousins' weddings. They weren't his cousins, he told me. Only related by marriage. Didn't count. Did I think he had nothing better to do than attend weddings?

Then in Breaking the  Greek's Rules (which appeared in Mistletoe Surprises in the US) he inadvertently re-introduced his cousin Alexandros Antonides to Daisy Cummings when Alex needed a matchmaker.  Lukas didn't need one.  Everyone thought he'd do his duty and get married someday because all Antonides men did Once They Found The Right Woman.

What Lukas never bothered to tell anyone (even me) was that he'd met The Right Woman years ago -- when he was no more than a kid. Trouble was, he hadn't known it then.  Hadn't wanted to know it. And by the time he finally did, it was too late. She'd fallen in love with his best friend.

Lukas wasn't ever getting married.  No book, he told me.  Go away.

And then things changed.  He came back to New York.  Grown up.  Mature. Responsible.  Ready to get on with his life -- which promptly brought him face-to-face with Holly Halloran -- the woman he'd loved and lost. The woman who had every right to hate him and pretty much did.

Lukas never expected to be a hero. But by the time we got to The Return of Antonides, he'd paid almost all his dues.  I figure he deserves a happy ending.  He has the whole book to convince Holly.

On the left is the US Presents cover.  The non-large-print version has an added Christmas novella in it (not mine).

My favorite is the UK version (no novella) because I love the cover.  This is Lukas as I always saw him.  I'm delighted the UK art dept did, too!  Let me know what you think!