Rescue My Heart

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Rescue My Heart Page 4

by Avery Ford


  “Um, thanks,” Arthur said. He wasn’t sure what else was expected of him. Thanks seemed to be safe enough. “See you later.”

  Celeste brought him out through the front door. The winding dirt driveway leading up to the shelter stretched to the right. Celeste brought him to the left and into the acres of land the shelter owned. Most of it was flat and wooded, but Arthur saw a well-worn path beaten into the forest floor. Celeste followed it.

  “The woman who founded the shelter bought this plot of land,” Celeste explained as they walked. “She had Locust Hill built because she saw the need for a place to take in and shelter animals after the college opened.”

  “Why only then?” The dogs at Arthur’s sides only tugged a little, and he figured it was because they were so excited to be out of their kennel.

  “Well, one of the leading causes people surrender their pets is because of moving.” There was a fork in the road. Celeste took the left branch. “When you’ve got students who are moving in and out of dorms, trying to find affordable apartments, going home for the summer then coming back to Rollins, or whatever else, it’s a lot more likely they’ll decide they can’t keep the pet for one reason or another. Either they can’t afford an apartment with a pet friendly contract, or their new boyfriend or girlfriend is allergic, or their parents say they can’t keep the pet at home over the summer. So they end up here.”

  “I didn’t know.” Arthur glanced to the dogs he walked. They both had their noses to the ground, sniffing wildly as they walked. “I guess it never occurred to me. I know I could never bring a pet home because my lifestyle is just way too hectic, and I don’t see it slowing down anytime soon. It wouldn’t be fair to the animal.”

  “Lots of people don’t think that way.” Celeste took another left when they hit the next fork. “Lots of people only consider their own wants, and they don’t think about how a cat or dog can live well into their late teens, depending on breed. A pet isn’t a temporary toy.”

  “And it wasn’t an issue before the college opened?”

  “Well, it was. But when you’ve got so many young, impulsive people with rapidly changing lives and newfound adulthood, it becomes a little more of a problem.” Celeste looked over her shoulder, and Arthur caught her eye. “Not all of them. But some.”

  The path led them around a thick pine tree. Both of Arthur’s dogs raced over to it, and the Chihuahua lifted his leg and eliminated.

  “Oops. Good job, Bear,” Celeste said. “Good boy.”

  “Bear is the Chihuahua?” Arthur looked at the old Shih Tzu. The Shih Tzu looked up at him blankly. “So the Shih Tzu is Poopsie?”

  “Unfortunately.” Celeste wrinkled her nose. “She likes to roll in filth. Without fail one of the volunteers has to give her a bath at least once a week.”

  Arthur made a face. “So the name isn’t just cute, then.”

  “Nope.” Celeste laughed. “But if you stick around, you’ll get to know all about the dogs here. Like you’ll know Bear thinks he’s as big as a grizzly, or that M’Lady isn’t actually a girl… he’s a male dog who hams it up to any female staff or visitors.”

  “Do you name all the dogs?” Arthur asked. “I mean, the shelter. Not necessarily you specifically.”

  “Nope. A lot of them, sure. We get a lot that are brought in from off the street or found wandering without their tags and not micro-chipped in the city. We name those ones. But there are times when people come to surrender their pets, and they already have names.”

  The path curved. In the distance, Arthur saw a pond.

  “And what about the volunteers?” Arthur looked away from the pond and to Celeste. “Who’s an employee and who’s a volunteer?”

  “Oh, I’d say about ninety-five percent of us are volunteers.” A log laid across the beaten path, and Celeste climbed over it, then helped her two small dogs over. “The founder’s daughter comes in from time to time, and I think her daughter might be on payroll, but for the most part it’s all on a voluntary basis. Even those of us who are in all the time are volunteers.”

  “Like Dmitri?” Arthur bit down on his bottom lip. The encounter with Dmitri still rattled him.

  “Like Dmitri, and like me, too.”

  There was something about Dmitri, something brooding and dark, that drew Arthur to him. When their hands had touched, it had been electric. Arthur tightened his hand around the leashes as he remembered what it had been like.

  But he also remembered the way Dmitri had talked to him. He was cold and standoffish, almost condescending. Arthur knew he was awkward, especially around men he found attractive, but that didn’t seem like much of an excuse to be so curt.

  Arthur’s feelings left him in a place where he wanted to know more about Dmitri while, at the same time, never wanting to see him again.

  “You know,” Celeste said. Arthur picked up both of his dogs and helped them over the log before setting them down again. They continued. “For your first time meeting Dmitri, you didn’t do so bad.”

  “What do you mean? I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

  Celeste laughed. “Dmitri is kind of weird. He’s been jaded by too many immature college students passing through, I guess. But he came over and talked to you right away, which is unlike him.”

  This time they followed the right path when they arrived at a fork. Arthur had a feeling they were heading back to the shelter.

  “I don’t know. He was cold the whole time we were together in the kennel. It was rude.” Arthur stopped to let Poopsie do her business at the base of a pine tree. “But he works with big dogs, right? Maybe I could stay with the small and medium dogs, and we wouldn’t have to work together.”

  Except I do want to work with him. A man like that…god.

  “Hmm, I’m sensing that you’re not too fond of him.” Celeste circled back to stand a little closer. The dogs wove between their legs, and Arthur had to step over leashes to keep himself from becoming tangled. “That’s okay. Dmitri really is a bit of a loner. He’s not very well liked at the kennel to begin with, but all of us play nice because he’s such a big part of the team.”

  “Do you think he’s a bad person?” Arthur asked, feeling more uncertain by the second. “I mean, being cold is one thing, but do you think he goes out of his way to be terrible?”

  “Oh. No. I don’t think so.” Celeste shrugged. “But sometimes you just can’t tell with him, you know? It’s probably not worth your time to get too worked up about it. Why don’t we head back to the shelter? I’m pretty sure he’s gone for today, so we can take the last two small dogs out, then introduce you to the rest of them. What do you think?”

  “Sure.”

  Only Arthur didn’t feel so sure. There was a nagging thought inside that wouldn’t quit.

  There was more to Dmitri than met the eye, and he wasn’t sure if what was yet to be uncovered would redeem him, or if it would darken his name further.

  Arthur curled up in bed back home in his studio apartment. His laptop sat open beside him, study notes open in one tab, a new Google search open in the other. With one finger he keyed in the topic that had been on his mind since arriving at Locust Hill Animal Shelter.

  Dmitri O’Hannahan.

  Images were the first thing to pop up. There were several pictures of Dmitri looking stern and professional, but there were an equal number of pictures of dogs. Pointed ear, fawn furred, intimidating looking dogs.

  The first link that loaded beneath the images wasn’t a link to Dmitri’s social media, it was a link to O’Hannahan Kennels.

  Arthur clicked on the link.

  The website was basic, but not off-putting. Arthur squinted at the sidebar menu, trying to figure out what O’Hannahan Kennels was all about. The navigation options were simple: home, about, our dogs, and contact. Arthur clicked on about. The site loaded quickly and smoothly.

  O’Hannahan Kennels is run by Dmitri O’Hannahan, AKC registered Belgian Malinois breeder and dog trainer.

  Arthur came t
o a stop, rereading the first sentence. Dmitri was a dog breeder? After what Arthur had learned today about the pet issue in Rollins, he didn’t understand why someone would breed dogs. There were plenty of animals up for adoption at the shelter, so why bring more dogs into the world on purpose?

  Was it just to turn a profit?

  The thought made Arthur sick, and it soured his opinion of Dmitri even more. Not only was Dmitri hard to get along with, but he was also part of the problem. Was he working in the shelter out of guilt for what he was doing?

  Arthur tried not to think about it. The more he did, the more his mind cast Dmitri in a negative light.

  Arthur backed out of the page and ended up back in the Google search results for Dmitri O’Hannahan. Dmitri’s dark eyes leered at him from the very first photograph displayed, and arousal curled in Arthur’s stomach in response. He shifted uneasily on the bed, trying to brush it aside.

  Dmitri was handsome, but he was rotten. Arthur didn’t want anything to do with him.

  Arthur just wished he could get his subconscious mind to feel the same way.

  6

  Dmitri

  Dmitri sat on the couch, heels kicked up on the coffee table, and avoided eye contact with Soldier. Soldier sat stiffly in a corner of the kitchen visible from where Dmitri was sitting, and Dmitri was well aware that the dog was keeping tabs on him. That was okay. The first step of desensitizing and counter-conditioning a dog meant removing all fearful stimuli. As far as Dmitri could tell, Soldier reacted poorly to loud noises.

  So Dmitri watched television on mute, and he didn’t speak a word.

  All of the other dogs were staying the night in the kennel. Dmitri brought two of them home at a time, rotating through the pack to make sure each of them got the same amount of time outside of the kennel. Tonight, though, he’d thought better of it. In the first few days while Soldier adjusted to his surroundings, Dmitri didn’t want him overstimulated. Once he was adjusted, Dmitri would bring one of his bitches home — maybe Lily. She was the sweetest and most docile of the bunch, and he thought Soldier would take to her well.

  There was a dish of dog food in the kitchen, filled to overflowing, and clear, cool water to drink. In time, Dmitri knew that Soldier would come around. Apprehension was normal in new settings, and even well trained dogs often needed time to adjust. But Dmitri had high hopes for Soldier, and he was eager to see how quickly he could rehabilitate him.

  For a while, Dmitri watched television without making a sound. When he stretched or adjusted his position on the couch, he did so slowly and with clear movements. Soldier’s gaze bore through him the entire time.

  Right when Dmitri was about to get up to get a glass of water, his cell phone went off on full blast. Soldier snarled and snapped from the other room, and Dmitri cursed as he reached for the phone and jabbed the accept call button. The name on the caller display was a familiar one. Martin was calling.

  “Hello,” Dmitri said as he picked himself up from the couch. He made his way down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Distancing himself from Soldier was the best thing he could do until the conversation was over.

  “Sounds like I called at a bad time,” Martin said with a laugh. “You taming a wild beast, Dmitri?”

  “Trying to.” Dmitri sat on the edge of the bed. “I forgot you were calling. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. What’s up? Do you want to meet up?”

  “Where?”

  “We’re in a room by the diner in town. Um. I think it’s just called Rollins Diner. Not very original, is it?”

  Dmitri laughed. “No, it’s not.” He laid back on the bed and held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. With his hands free, he knit his fingers together and stretched them up to pop his knuckles. “I’ll be there in half an hour. I’ve got to get the new dog settled before I can head out.”

  “A rescue?”

  “Only temporary.” Dmitri’s knuckles cracked. “I brought him home from the shelter to try to rehabilitate him. He’s got some serious fear aggression, but I don’t think any case is hopeless.”

  “If anyone can get through to a dog like that, it’s you.” Martin cleared his throat. “So, half an hour?”

  “At least. I’ll try to be there as soon as I can.”

  “You got it.”

  Dmitri paused. “And Martin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming out all this way. I really do appreciate it.”

  Martin chuckled. “It’s not entirely selfless of me, you know. Having my name tied to the O’Hannahan line is an honor. The pups Jagger sired with my Lenora are some of the most beautiful, remarkable dogs I’ve ever seen.”

  “I won’t take all the credit,” Dmitri deflected.

  “You should. You run a very fine kennel. Vermont’s hidden national treasure, right in the heart of the middle of nowhere.”

  Dmitri snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Thirty minutes. You can gush about my dogs over dinner. See you soon.”

  Martin said a quick goodbye and Dmitri ended the call. He picked himself up from the bed and went to see if he couldn’t get Soldier to calm down before he left.

  It was probably a long shot, but Dmitri hadn’t ever been one to give up — at least, not when it came to dogs.

  Rollins Diner was far enough away from campus that it wasn’t crawling with students. It was a small relief. After Dmitri’s run-in with Arthur the other day, he wasn’t overly eager to venture out into campus territory.

  By the time he arrived, the diner was largely empty. It was creeping past nine at night, and the dinner crowds had gone for the day.

  Martin wasn’t hard to spot.

  His thinning silver hair glowed beneath the diner’s lights. He kept his arms folded on the table, his gaze dipped as he read something on his phone. The lines in his face were more pronounced than the last time Dmitri had seen him, but they didn’t leave Martin unrecognizable. And when Martin looked up and fixed Dmitri with his gentle brown eyes, there was no mistaking him. No matter how old Martin got, his eyes never changed.

  “Dmitri,” Martin greeted as Dmitri approached. He stood and held out his hand, and Dmitri shook it. “Good to see you. You’re looking well.”

  “Thanks.” The handshake broke. Martin sat back down, and Dmitri sat across from him. “I’ve been keeping busy with the kennel and the shelter.”

  “Are you still designing websites?” Martin asked.

  “At night, in my spare time,” Dmitri said. “It pays the bills when sales dwindle.”

  “I feel you.” A waitress came and brought them water, and Dmitri found himself ordering the same thing he always did whenever he came to the diner. He’d lived in Rollins his whole life, and he knew the town inside out. “Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be worthwhile finding another job to tide me over, but then I remember how much I love working with my dogs, and I set those thoughts aside.”

  “Good to know I’m not alone.” Dmitri twisted the straw in his glass of water, disturbing the ice cubes surrounding it. “Annie just gained her champion title at the latest rally. It’s a shame you couldn’t have been there.”

  “So you could whoop my ass with your perfect dogs?” Martin laughed. “Maybe next time. I’ve been keeping busy. My son just got married. I forgot how much work it was until we were helping him get everything in order. I swear, it wasn’t like that when Linda and I married. Back then, things were simpler.”

  “I don’t know. I think it depends on what you’re interested in,” Dmitri said “There are still simple weddings. Not everyone spends ten thousand dollars for an album of photos and a video or two.”

  “Hmm.” Martin narrowed an eye playfully, leaning forward to look Dmitri over. “I can’t tell if that’s loneliness, or if you’re trying to tell me that you’re going to tie the knot and have been thinking things through.”

  Dmitri sat back very suddenly, flushing. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “T
hat’s a pity.” Martin eased back. “You’re young. What, twenty-seven now? It’s a shame that you should be alone.”

  “My life is way too busy to let anyone in,” Dmitri deflected. This wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted to have. Martin was another Belgian Malinois breeder who’d introduced his dog, Chance, to Annie while she was in season. She was already about thirty days into her pregnancy — a little less than halfway. While Dmitri was friends with Martin, they weren’t entirely open with each other. Martin had no idea Dmitri was gay.

  “You have plenty of time, Dmitri.” Martin waved a hand dismissively. “Time to put in volunteer work at the shelter, time to work on your websites during the evening, time to come out and see me at the drop of a hat… if you were busy, you would have turned me down.”

  “I knew you were coming,” Dmitri said flatly.

  “But not for dinner. So the point is, you have time. All you have to do is want companionship badly enough.”

  Dmitri stared down into his water, following the ridges of the ice cubes in the glass.

  “You’re lonely, Dmitri,” Martin said softly. “I know it’s been hard for you since your mom passed away. Maybe it’s time to find someone else to let into your life.”

  Dmitri shook his head. Memories of his mother were painful. “I appreciate your concern, but I promise, I’m okay. I haven’t really met anyone here who’s worth settling down with, you know?”

  “Tons of college kids.” Martin waggled an eyebrow. “There are bound to be some cute girls who’d love to meet you. Maybe go to some parties. I’m sure they’re not hard to find.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Well… think about it.” Martin shrugged. “We’ve known each other for, what, twenty years now? Ever since your mom started raising Belgian Malinois.”

  “I guess it has been twenty years.” Dmitri pinched his lip together. It didn’t feel like that long.

  “And you’ve been shy and introverted the whole time. You’re too hard on yourself, Dmitri. I know you took on a lot of responsibility from an early age by caring for your mom as best you could, but you have to let yourself lighten up some, too.” The lines in Martin’s forehead deepened with concern. “Or you’ll end up an old man like me, all on his own and wondering where his life went.”

 

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