My Three Dogs, page 16
When the woman remained on the steps, Teme felt a little more reassured. Had the woman come off those steps and charged the car, Teme wasn’t sure what her plan would be, but backing out and driving away didn’t seem unreasonable.
Teme cautiously opened her car door and stepped out. The woman stayed on the steps. Another good sign.
“Can I help you?” Teme asked tentatively. Her car door was still open, and it would be a very quick and easy motion to sit back down and relock the doors.
The woman nodded. “I’m here about a dog.”
Well, that might explain her agitation. Perhaps the woman’s dog had gone missing. Certainly, Teme had seen it before. She shut her door and approached cautiously. “Hi,” she greeted, only slightly less uneasily.
“I came yesterday, but you were closed!” the woman accused somewhat shrilly.
Teme nodded. “We’re closed to the public Thursday afternoons. Sorry.”
The woman swallowed. “My name is Sabrina Morgan. I’m here about a little dog named Luna. Do you know Luna?”
Teme brightened. “Oh!”
Sabrina seemed to read something in Teme’s expression. “Please tell me you didn’t put her down. Please.”
“Oh, okay. I’m so sorry. I don’t actually know. I wasn’t here yesterday.”
With that, Sabrina collapsed into tears, and Teme’s mood changed completely.
“Oh, but let’s go inside. Maybe everything is okay,” Teme suggested compassionately.
Teme noted with concern that Sabrina could barely stay upright as they walked together through the doors.
“Do you want to sit down, maybe?” Teme asked Sabrina, who shook her head. “My name’s Teme, by the way.”
“Hi, Teme.”
“You’re Sabrina?”
Sabrina nodded.
“Can I ask how you know about Luna?”
“It’s complicated, but the short version is that I used to live with her owner. Then a … person … showed me the email you sent about her being on death row.”
Teme nodded as she put it together. “So you lived with the guy who…”
Sabrina swallowed. “Yes. He died in a car accident.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The cacophony of dogs barking had not ceased, it seemed, all night. They were certainly at it this morning, their voices faint through the heavy door, but that’s just how things were here at the shelter. For Teme, the constant noise was so in the background she scarcely noticed it, but the sound seemed to make Sabrina apprehensive. Teme set down her purse and walked around the counter, clicking in to her computer.
“Our system’s down,” she announced disgustedly. She uttered that same phrase many times a week. When she glanced up, she saw that Sabrina was devastated by the news. “No, it’s okay. Let’s just go see,” Teme suggested comfortingly. Nodding, frightened, Sabrina followed Teme as she opened the door to all the barking.
* * *
Riggs became aware of a gradual swelling of the noise that had battered at his ears all night long. At first, the cacophony and odors had been too much, overwhelming him and keeping him awake, even anxious, but gradually, feeling beaten down, Riggs drifted into a deep sleep and was able to ignore all distractions. Now, with light just filtering through the streets, Riggs stood, stretched, and yawned, shaking himself. He could smell that there had been a male dog nearby while he slept. There was no trace of him now.
His first thought was for food, but it was a dripping faucet that summoned Riggs, and he wound up lapping at a small pool of water until his thirst was satisfied. There were food smells everywhere, but there was no food. This was not a situation Riggs had ever encountered. When Liam or Sabrina were in the kitchen, there were similar smells, but there was always something offered by hand to accompany the odors. Now, though, different, competing, wonderful fragrances mingled with one another and danced away from him on the warm morning air without leading him in any particular direction.
This place he had found, with its noise, its cars, was absolutely reeking with deliciousness, and yet there was nothing for a good dog. Riggs noticed a real sense of active life as well, small animals who hid from Riggs and his nose when he sniffed along the edges of the alley. There were cats, too. Riggs could smell them, but like all cats, they were elusive and unfriendly to stray dogs. Riggs had no idea if they were watching him, nor was that really important right now. Once his hunger seized his imagination, there really was nothing else to do but try to find food.
Eventually, a wrapped piece of paper on the sidewalk revealed a crunchy roll inside with a tiny strip of meat and cheese clinging to it. Riggs devoured it ravenously. It was certainly not enough to put his hunger to sleep, but it dulled the sharp edge of discomfort and gave him some opportunity to ponder his circumstances.
People were out now, people walking the cement sidewalks, many of them with dogs. Riggs watched as these dogs reacted to his presence, staring, the males reflexively lifting their legs. Some of them ignored Riggs completely, and some raised the fur on the backs of their necks. The people with these dogs, though, that’s what caught Riggs’s attention. They would stare at him, but not with a smile.
Riggs was accustomed to people reaching out with open hands, to them kneeling and wanting kisses from him, and offering treats, and he could smell those treats now, in the pockets and pouches of the people who were walking their dogs, but there was nothing for Riggs. The people, when they saw him, gave him a hard glance, or they looked away and picked up their pace.
For the first time, Riggs understood that there was a difference between dogs who were alone and dogs who were with their people. Without his collar, and without a leash, and without Liam, that’s who he was. He was a dog without a person.
Now what? His nose had led him to this vast area. People smells permeated everything. There was food and water to be found somehow, and with so many humans and dogs all around him, it seemed more likely that he would encounter Liam here than anywhere else he had been on his journey, but there was no Liam, and no smell of Luna, and no sign of Archie.
Riggs resolved to attend to his hunger first and then to find Liam and get the dog pack back together. That was his purpose. He trotted aimlessly along the sidewalk, his fur on one side brushing the buildings, sniffing hopefully.
When Riggs saw a dog like him, a male with no collar, dirty fur, and no people, Riggs instantly made to run up and greet him. The other dog fled, though, running as if Riggs were moving to attack him. It made no sense to Riggs, but he faltered and then slowed down, and then eventually stopped. Dogs without people were afraid of everything. That was the lesson he was learning.
Certainly, Riggs was afraid of the people, mostly men, who sat on the cement in a pile of their belongings and called to him when he trotted past. “Hey, dog!” they might yell. Riggs couldn’t tell if these humans meant him harm, but they were very different from anyone Riggs had ever encountered.
Riggs was frustrated more by the dog scents than anything. He could tell some had made beds on pieces of cloth or behind boxes, but they weren’t in their dens now. Where there were dogs, there would be food—his pack instincts told him that.
Riggs had never felt so alone.
Then an old and loud vehicle pulled to the curb, and everything changed.
27
Luna was asleep when the door opened, but her instincts yanked her into consciousness in an instant. Something, she realized, was happening. She climbed expectantly to her feet. She was even wagging. Not just something—something wonderful. Teme came around the corner, but it was the woman walking behind her that caught and held Luna’s attention.
Sabrina.
“Luna!” Sabrina cried.
Luna whimpered and dashed to the gate, pawing at it furiously while Teme fumbled with the latch. The moment it swung open, Luna surged through it and launched herself into Sabrina’s arms and was gathered like a child. “Oh, Luna,” Sabrina choked, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Luna cried and licked and loved her person. Sabrina had come, just as Luna had known she would.
“Well, it’s obvious you two know each other,” Teme observed with a chuckle.
Luna gazed adoringly at Sabrina, who was wiping away tears. Luna never wanted to be put down again. She wanted to be carried forever by Sabrina. “I thought Luna was adopted out, or I never would have left her here this long,” Sabrina apologized.
“Oh, she was adopted,” Teme replied, “but it didn’t work out, I guess.”
“What do I need to do? To take Luna home with me, I mean. I need to—” Sabrina gave a light laugh. “This is just sort of crazy.”
“Why don’t we go up front?” Teme suggested.
Sabrina followed her back through the heavy door. “Oh, Luna, you are so silly.” Sabrina grinned at Teme. “No better makeup remover than a dog’s tongue.”
Teme sat behind the counter and laughed.
“Okay, I need to make some changes. I live with my sister. She has cats,” Sabrina pondered.
“Oh,” Teme replied dubiously. “Jack Russells are known to see cats as prey. It’s probably not a good fit.” Her face fell as she contemplated what this might mean.
“Right, of course! But I’m moving. I mean, I don’t have a place yet to move into. I mean, I do, but not until September 3. The place belongs to my company, and it’s sort of a perk that I get to move there. Instead of a big salary, I guess. They do allow dogs in the building. I was planning … I don’t know what I was planning, actually. I just thought that by now—” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Am I giving too much information?”
“No, not at all,” Teme assured her. “We need information. So to sort of parse it down, you’re moving, and until then…” Teme trailed off. “We’re sort of out of time for Luna,” she finished apologetically.
“Oh! Then I’ll check into a dog-friendly hotel. Today.” Sabrina stopped talking and stared at Teme. “Are Archie and Riggs here, too?”
“Oh, no,” Teme replied quickly. “I remember the dogs you’re talking about. They all came in together, didn’t they?”
“That’s right. It was rather sudden.”
“No, Archie and Riggs were each adopted out to separate families.”
“Could I talk to those people?” Sabrina pressed hopefully.
Teme regretfully shook her head. “No, honestly, it’s best if you don’t. Let the dogs adjust to their new lives. It’s been quite a while for Archie, and Riggs has been gone for more than a month.”
Sabrina nodded and swallowed. “I don’t think I could manage three dogs anyway.”
“Do you work from home?” Teme asked casually. It was the first of many questions on the checklist she would eventually need to complete, but to her, it was one of the most important. Since COVID, an increasing number of people had answered yes to that question, and to Teme, it made a huge difference.
“I work from home sometimes,” Sabrina replied. “Not every day, though. I was a schoolteacher. Now I’m—” She stopped and then smiled to herself. “Communications director,” she said self-consciously, “for a small start-up company. I just was burned out on teaching, and this seemed like a good opportunity. I haven’t been there all that long.”
Teme nodded. “My mom was a schoolteacher. I think it’s the hardest job in the world.”
Sabrina smiled, and the two of them fully relaxed. Sabrina set Luna down, and the little dog immediately pressed against Sabrina’s legs, determined not to be left behind.
“There are some questions I have to ask you,” Teme began a bit awkwardly, “but I think I should tell you that we had pretty much given up hope for Luna. She hasn’t been very friendly toward people. Not the way she is with you. And like I said, your instincts were right—she was on the schedule for, well, you know. So there’s no chance we’ll say no to you adopting her. You’re her only hope, actually.”
“Oh, Luna, you’re the sweetest dog in the world. Why weren’t you friendly?” Sabrina asked. Luna luxuriated in the sound of Sabrina saying her name. “So, right, I’ll get a room at the hotel next to where I work,” Sabrina reasoned out loud. She was putting it together. She had a dog now. She had Luna.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Teme agreed with an encouraging smile.
* * *
Riggs sensed that something was happening, a change to how things had been all morning, but wasn’t sure what. All that had occurred to give him this feeling was that a man stepped out of his car. He was much shorter than Liam, smaller-boned, with light curly hair on his head the same color as Archie’s fur. Unlike most people, though, this new man didn’t look away, didn’t increase his pace, but approached Riggs with an engaging smile, his eyes kind. He was here, Riggs felt, for him. Not to capture him—there was nothing threatening or devious in his motion—but just to see him.
Though the man wore an old, patterned shirt that carried its own earthy odor, his hands smelled like food.
“Dogs!” he called. “Hey, dogs! Come here.”
Riggs watched in amazement as a small white dog emerged from an alley. Then a slightly larger black one came around the corner, and from down the street, seeming to emerge from a dumpster, a mottled brown-and-white dog trotted up energetically. “Here you go,” the man proclaimed. He handed a piece of succulent-smelling turkey to the white dog—a big piece. “Good dog, Corona,” he praised. He turned to the mottled dog. “Here you go, Budweiser. Oh, you need a bath.” He tossed a piece of thigh meat through the air, and the small dog snagged it.
The smallest dog, long-haired with a tiny face, approached timidly.
“Hi there, Modelo! You’re so pretty. I don’t know how your people managed to lose a full-blooded papillon, but there’s no accounting for human behavior. And who are you?”
The man was looking directly at Riggs. Riggs hesitated uncertainly, but the smell of turkey drew him forward.
“You’re new. Where do you come from? Are you friendly?”
Riggs wagged his nonexistent tail. He could not stop staring at the man’s hands.
“Are you hungry, little one?” the man asked softly.
As he threw the hunk of poultry, the black dog tried to catch it, leaping into the air, but it went high, and Riggs pounced on it. Moist, delicious turkey.
“All right, Heineken,” the man chuckled. “Here’s yours.”
The sound of dogs chewing stimulated Riggs into frantically choking down the meal as quickly as he could. When he looked up, the man had come over and was kneeling now, holding out another piece, which Riggs gratefully accepted.
“I’m going to call you Molson,” he announced to Riggs. “You’re Molson. That dog that looks like you is Budweiser, Corona’s the white bully breed, the little Lab mix is Heineken, and the little princess is Modelo. Where’s Michelob?” he asked.
The dogs looked at him, hearing the question but not knowing what he was saying.
After a time, other dogs came, and the kind man fed them as well. Riggs noted that the skittish, xenophobic behavior of the canines was mollified by the appearance of this one man, as if he were their Liam, their person. Some dogs even went so far as to sniff one another. Riggs stood still for a suspicious examination by the small white dog named Corona, contemplating this situation.
Though the dogs were free and off leash, this place Riggs had found was far different from any dog park. In a dog park, the friendly dogs formed and re-formed agile, moving packs, the youngest ones tearing around the enclosure with boundless energy while the older ones interacted with more dignity. Here, the dogs hid from people and one another and apparently only became normal dogs when this man appeared.
The canines were mostly still milling around, drawn by the scent of turkey in the man’s pack, when a woman wearing a black outfit and a black hat, with large metal objects hanging from a shiny black belt, stepped around the corner. The dogs didn’t react as if she were a threat, so Riggs didn’t either.
“Hey there, Ron,” the woman called, and that was how Riggs learned the man’s name.
“Hey, Georgia.” He gestured. “Got a new one. Name is Molson.”
“Molson,” Georgia whispered. She reached down to Riggs, and he sniffed her hand. It smelled like a rabbit. How would a woman have rabbit smells on her hands? Riggs had only smelled rabbits out in the grass, and they had always managed to elude him, though several times he was sure he had come close to catching one.
“He looks well fed. Must have been abandoned pretty recently,” the woman—Georgia—commented as she ran a hand up and down Riggs’s chest.
“Or ran away,” Ron speculated.
Georgia nodded. “Maybe. But no collar, no tags. That’s usually a sign that someone just dropped the poor guy off. Want me to take him to the municipal shelter?”
“If you feel like you have to,” Ron replied carefully.
“No, what I feel like is I have to go home, to be honest. My shift’s done. I’ll take a photo, though, and ask the shelter to post it to their website.”
“That’s great. Tough night?” Ron asked.
Georgia shrugged. “I’m just tired in general. Just thought I’d take one more walk through the neighborhood. Take it easy, Ron.”
“You too, Georgia.”
The woman with the heavy objects on her belt departed, trailing a weariness behind her. Ron watched her go and then smiled and shook his head. “I’m not a night person,” he informed the dogs. None of them knew what he was saying, but his turkey was real, and so was his affection. When Ron slid back into his car and announced, “See you tomorrow,” the dogs immediately dispersed.
Riggs wasn’t sure what was happening, but he absolutely did not want to be left by himself. The small dog named Budweiser trotted off, and Riggs followed him.
28
Budweiser gave Riggs a suspicious look when he realized Riggs was tracking him, but there wasn’t much he could do, as Riggs had something of an innate capability when it came to following other creatures. Both dogs appreciated that the other was willing to halt progress for an intrigued sniff at some dropped or crushed object.
