by Dan Walsh
When she got outside, she noticed the other inmates, the ones who hadn’t received their dogs yet, the “loser” group she was a part of, gathering in front of the picnic benches. She headed over there. As she did, she noticed they were picking numbers out of a hat, like the first group had, to determine who got the dogs in the van and in what order. She stood next to Rita.
Rita turned and whispered to her, “They decided not to include you in this, since you haven’t done anything yet.”
“I still get a dog though, right?”
“Yeah, but you get whichever one doesn’t get picked by everyone else. But don’t worry, all the dogs now are good picks. We haven’t had any duds ever since that lady Kim at the Humane Society started selecting them.”
Amy was glad to hear that. Oddly enough, she wasn’t that disappointed to learn she would get the dog no one else had wanted. Although, it reminded her of being back in high school or middle school, every time team captains would select teams in PE. She’d get picked last every time. And it wasn’t because her last name was Wallace. Usually, the captains could pick whoever they wanted in whatever order they wanted. Amy just wasn’t any good at sports, and everyone knew it.
She sat at a nearby picnic bench and watched the scene unfold. Apparently, Rita’s number had put her in third place. That was the position she held in the line now forming near the van. Over the next ten minutes, just like before, Bill opened the van doors, the girls began checking out the dogs inside, picking their favorite, and leading them out into the yard.
Rita came out with a husky/pit mix, white with brown spots. She had the biggest smile on her face. Amy decided she should get up and get in the last place in line. When it was just two of them in line, the girl in front of her walked up to the van and looked inside. Amy couldn’t see, the view was blocked by the back door. The girl looked all around the van with a confused look on her face. Still wearing that look, she glanced at Amy, then back inside the van. “Guess it’s just me and you, girl,” she said, then bent over and opened the cage door.
Amy heard the leash click, the sound of an excited dog exiting the cage then watched her fellow inmate as she led a black lab-mix onto the grass. She made a facial gesture to Amy as she walked by that Amy didn’t understand.
It was her turn. She wondered what she’d find on the other side of that door. She had mentally prepared herself to be okay if it was a pit.
She clicked the leash in her hand a few times and stepped up to the back of the van. Now she understood why the other inmate had looked so confused.
The van was empty. All the dogs were gone.
19
Kim
Kim set her phone down. The last call she had to make, for now. She looked at her watch. It was time. Actually, she was running a little late from the time she had given Brenda. Bill had left the facility quite a while ago headed out to the prison with the second load of dogs.
She stood up and turned to see Roger, her boss, coming in from the hallway with some folders in his hand. “I’m going to head out to the prison,” Kim said. “The last dog for the upcoming class wasn’t quite ready, so I told Brenda I’d bring him out there myself.”
Roger looked up at the clock on the wall in between their desks. “Guess that’s your last task of the day. Don’t expect there’s enough time for you to come back here after you’re through.”
“I don’t think so. I may need to spend a little more time out there, not just drop him off. He didn’t look too ready when Brenda came by earlier to look at the dogs I’d picked. I told her I was certain he’d work out but agreed to bring him out there myself, in case I’m wrong. That way I can bring him back, if needed.”
“Which dog are we talking about?” Roger asked.
“Finley. Remember the one I told you about? The one whose original owner got killed in Afghanistan a few weeks ago?”
Roger sat at his desk. “Kind of,” he said. “A golden retriever mix, right?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks. See you tomorrow then.” She headed down the hall in the direction of the stray kennel. She greeted several coworkers along the way but did her best not to make eye contact. She needed to look like a woman on a mission to avoid getting sucked into anything. After walking through the Intake area, she ducked inside a room to pick up a spare leash.
Opening the door to the kennel set off an onslaught of barking dogs, all hoping she had come there to set them free. That part of the job was hard sometimes, knowing you couldn’t really help all the dogs that needed it. But this afternoon, she was definitely able to help one of them. She hoped that Finley would think he was being set free, though she knew at first she’d probably just be adding to his already confused state.
His kennel door was up ahead but she didn’t see him near the front. That wasn’t strange for Finley; he tended to lay all the way in the back. Then she looked up at the clear plastic folder hanging on the fence door. Each dog had one. It held all their paperwork.
Finley’s was empty. A few moments later, she realized…so was his kennel. Finley was gone.
This didn’t make any sense.
Ellen had sent her a voicemail over thirty minutes ago, saying she had just finished giving Finley a bath. He was ready to go. She walked down to the end of the aisle, inspecting every kennel. He wasn’t in any of them. She hurried back out to the Intake area and found Chuck.
“Chuck, do you know what happened to Finley? That golden retriever mix Ellen was getting ready for me? She called me before she left saying he was all set.”
Chuck looked up. “No, I would’ve thought he should still be back there. I’m guessing he’s not.”
“Any idea where he might be?” Kim said. “Did anyone take him for a walk?”
“I doubt it. We’re pretty slammed up here. Did you check the adoption kennel area? They came here to get a few of the dogs that were ready to be moved about ten minutes ago. Maybe they mixed things up, brought Finley over there by mistake.”
That could be it. “I’ll head over there right now.”
Finley didn’t understand any of this, so he huddled on a wrinkled throw rug as far back in the pen as he could. This place seemed a lot like the place he had been staying in for several days now. A long aisle, lots of kennels on either side. Dogs in every one of them, none who wanted to be here. They seemed a little nicer than the ones he had been with before, and a lot more people walked by. But Finley had hoped all this new activity today meant something better was coming his way.
He had even been brought outside for a while, then washed in a big tub and dried off. His hair had been brushed. Several different women had been petting him, calling him by name, saying nice-sounding things to him.
All of that, just to put him here? He didn’t understand and had no idea what to expect, and he didn’t want to think about it. He closed his eyes pretending to sleep.
Kim walked through the Adoption lobby, around the counters then down the hall toward the adoption kennel. She could have stopped and asked one of the workers which kennel Finley had been moved to, but it probably would’ve taken longer than just looking for herself. She opened the door and quickly glanced at the individual pens as she walked down the aisle. Several dogs barked and called out to her, but she was only there to see one.
Up ahead, halfway down the aisle, a couple with two children had stopped in front of one of the pens, but she didn’t see the dog they were looking at. Sure enough, when she got closer, there was Finley laying in the back. The husband was reading the information on Finley’s card. The wife had bent down to the height of her children who were all saying things to Finley. Finley was looking at them but not responding, and he made no attempt to get up and see them.
But as soon as Kim reached his kennel, his ears perked right up and his tail began to wag. A moment later, he stood and stepped closer to the front of the pen, his eyes zeroed in on Kim’s face.
“Well
, he certainly knows you,” the woman said. “He’s a beautiful dog, but he doesn’t seem very friendly.”
Kim noticed he looked even more handsome all cleaned up.
The husband stopped reading the card and turned to face Kim. “Can you tell us anything about him? He’s the kind of dog we were looking for. He’s mostly golden retriever, right? Aren’t they usually pretty good family dogs?”
“I’m sorry,” Kim said. “Finley’s been brought over here by mistake. He’s not really ready to be adopted just yet. In fact, he’s been selected for a prison program.”
“Finley’s going to jail?” the little girl said.
“Kind of, but not really,” Kim said. “Not because he’s done anything wrong.” She turned her attention to the parents. “We work with a program out there that trains selected dogs for a number of weeks, so that they can help military veterans coming home from Iraq or Afghanistan with disabilities or PTSD.”
“Oh, wow,” the mother said. “I saw something about that on TV.”
“Well, that’s what Finley’s going to be part of. He was brought over here by mistake. I’m actually here to drive him out to the prison right now.”
The mother looked at him. “He’s a beautiful dog. I guess if we can’t have him, at least it’s for a good cause.”
“Sorry for the confusion,” Kim said. “But I’m sure you’ll find a good dog in here. All the dogs in this kennel have been carefully checked out by our staff to make sure they’d make good family pets. Some aren’t as good with kids as others, so it’s a good idea to do what you are doing,” she said to the husband. “If they have any kid issues that we know about, it will be written on their card.”
“Otherwise, they’re okay for kids?” The mother said.
“Hopefully. As best we can tell, but we don’t know for sure. We haven’t found any parents willing to let us use their kids to test the dogs.”
The mother laughed; she could tell it was a joke.
“Well, I’m glad we got to talk with you,” the husband said. “Come on kids, let’s keep looking. We’ll find a good one.”
They started walking down the aisle. When they had cleared a few kennels, Kim opened Finley’s door. “Look at you.” He was wagging his tail so hard his rear end was shaking. She patted his head and scratched behind his ears. “You ready to get out of here? Can you give me a sit?”
He knew that word and instantly obeyed. She clipped on the leash. “Good boy.” She led him out of the kennel, stopping only to grab his paperwork from the clear plastic sleeve. He walked briskly by her side, more energetically than she had seen him all week. “We’ll just stop by the adoption counter and clear up the confusion, then you’ll get to ride in a car.”
She knew he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but she said it in a high-pitched happy voice, and he acted like he did.
It was so nice to see him looking cheerful. She wished there was some way she could tell him that things should be looking up for him from this point on.
20
Something was definitely going on.
Finley had no idea what it was, but it had to be something new. The one person who’d treated him the most like Chaz had come to take him out of this place. They were walking on a sidewalk out to a parking lot. Whatever she was saying, she sounded excited. That made him feel excited too.
He understood the phrase, car ride. Is that what this was, a car ride? Finley loved car rides. Chaz had rarely taken him on them but, whenever he did, it was always a good thing. After, he would usually wind up back in the apartment. But he still enjoyed them. Especially sticking his head out the window. There was just something about having all that air rushing into your face. It was as much fun as playing ball or chewing a steak bone.
Kim stopped in front of a car. “Are you ready, Finley? Want to go on a car ride?” She opened the back door and Finley hopped in.
He could barely contain himself. It wasn’t a large area, but he just had to spin around a few times. He watched as she came around to the driver side and opened the door. Good, she was getting in. This was definitely going to be a car ride.
She sat in her seat. “I hope you don’t get car sick. I probably should have put down some towels. But this won’t take long. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.”
Whatever she said, he enjoyed the sound of her voice. So pleasant and calming. He felt the car begin to back up and turn. He looked out the back window as they drove away. They were leaving this place. That was clear. It was getting smaller and smaller. Would he be coming back after the car ride? He hoped not.
Where was she taking him?
He tried to block the thought out of his mind. Stay in the moment. It was a good moment. He looked out the side window. Everything was rushing by so fast. He was certain the wind on the other side of the glass was blowing hard. He had to find a way to get the window open. He pawed at the panel and armrest, then lifted his nose toward the top, as close to the edge as possible.
“Are you okay back there?”
He turned and looked at Kim. She was staring straight ahead, but then he saw her eyes looking back at him through a mirror. He repeated the same behavior, pawing at the side panel and pressing his nose against the glass.
“You want the window open, boy? What am I saying? Of course, you do. Alright, give me a sec.”
Suddenly, a humming noise. The window began sliding down. Instantly, the wind rushed in. He stood tall and lifted his nose to greet it. In a moment, it was down enough to poke his head through, so he did.
What a feeling. So cool and refreshing. As good as he remembered.
For a dog, it doesn’t get any better.
Kim turned off the main road then traveled one block and turned left, down the long winding road that led to the prison. She’d been out here many times. It still gave her an odd feeling as she drove past the tall double-cyclone fence with the coiled razor wire on top and bottom, saw the occasional inmate walking around inside the perimeter in their prison garb.
She had never felt any danger, though she knew some fairly dangerous ladies were spending the rest of their lives in this facility. She’d felt even less concern being around the inmates involved in the Prison Paws and Pals Program. They had all gone through a thorough evaluation and had to have squeaky clean behavior records to be accepted.
It gave her a strange feeling, realizing she could come and go freely from this place, but these ladies could not. Only a tiny portion of Kim’s time was spent here. For them, it was every day all day and all night, for months and years on end. They couldn’t go shopping, go to the movies or meet their friends at a restaurant. They couldn’t go on dates or sit on a couch with their boyfriend munching popcorn as they watched Netflix.
Well, neither could she for that matter. The last serious boyfriend she’d had was over a year ago. But that was beside the point. For her at least, it could happen.
She rounded a tight curve, heard Finley slide across the back seat. “I’m sorry, Finley.” The whole drive over she had paid such careful attention at every turn and every time she applied the brakes, trying to make it easier for him to hold on. “We’re almost there.”
Although the dog training program was technically part of the prison, she had to drive all the way around the complex and take a different road leading to a back entrance. The whole look of the place was different, made to resemble more of a college dorm than a prison barracks. But, of course, it still maintained all the high-end security procedures. And it was still enclosed by the same double-cyclone fence and razor wire.
She quickly found a parking place and turned off the car. Finley pulled his head back from the window and focused on her. She reached back and patted the top of his head, scratched behind his ears. Finley looked at the place through the windshield. The look on his face suggested he was trying to process what kind of place it was. “You’ve never been here before, Finley. But for at least a while, this should be your new home.”
Shou
ld be, she thought. She certainly hoped it would be, that it would work out for him. She’d hate to have to bring Finley back to the shelter. “You want to check it out?”
His tail was wagging. A good sign. He was definitely doing better now than the day he got dropped off. She got out of the car. Finley followed her to the side door. She opened it slightly and grabbed the leash, then let him out the rest of the way.
She reached into the front seat, got Finley’s paperwork then shut both doors. “Let’s go, Finley. Somebody very special is waiting to meet you.”
21
Amy was sitting in the chair by her desk reading the dog training booklet. The other girls were busy getting acquainted with their new dogs. Her disappointment at not getting a dog yet was short-lived. Miss Bridget quickly informed her that she was most certainly getting one. Apparently, the last dog slated to be with the group had been kept in a different part of the shelter, and he wasn’t quite ready to be released when Bill left with the van.
Have no fear, she was told, the main dog trainer for the Humane Society was bringing him here herself. In fact, she was on her way to the prison now.
Amy had asked if Miss Bridget knew what kind of dog it was. She said she didn’t. Brenda did, but she and Bill had already left for the day and Bridget had forgotten to ask her. Amy would just have to be patient. She’d find out soon enough.
One thing at least, Miss Bridget did say the dog trainer was bringing a him. So, her dog was a male.