Todd grinned. “It’s a date.” He got in his truck along with Mac and Ranger.
“Do you want me to help you take them back?” Laura asked.
“Thanks, but I can do it. Good night, Laura. Good night, Gracie.”
Laura leaned in through the truck window and, without a word, gave Todd a quick kiss on the cheek and turned away. Todd left the transmission in park until he was sure Laura and Gracie were safely inside.
He thought about Laura as he drove the half mile to the shelter and walked Mac and Ranger back to their pens. The cold air inside snapped him out of his reverie.
“Wow! It’s cold in here.” Todd walked over to the thermostat. “It’s only forty degrees.” Todd immediately called Hayley to let her know something was wrong with the heat.
Todd put Mac in his cage as he spoke to Hayley on his cell phone. “What should I do?”
Hayley checked her watch. At this late hour, it seemed unlikely that she would be able to find anyone to help her straighten out the furnace. Although it would be chilly for humans, the cold inside the shelter would not distress her furry guests. “They’ll be fine for the night. We’ll figure it out first thing tomorrow.”
It was very quiet on the hospital wing of the Wellness Center, and pitch-black inside Hank Fisher’s room except for the dim light coming through the crack under the door. It was slightly after midnight and he was not sure where he was or if he was even alone. Hank cleared his throat and said, “Is anyone here?”
No one answered. It had been a strange experience he had awoken from. It must have been a dream. He was sitting at a T intersection in a blue-and-white GMC truck that he had not owned for twenty years. Summer was in full flower, exploding in grainy Technicolor. The corn was tall but still a tender green. The truck engine was idling. He felt lost; he did not know if he should turn west or east.
A white dog appeared from behind a tree located along the edge of an adjacent cornfield. The dog walked slowly to the west, stopped, looked back to Hank, and trotted down the road. Hank put his turn signal on, turned right, and followed the dog west down the gravel road. They moved slowly for half a mile at a relaxed pace. There were occasional farmhouses along the road. Following a curve in the road, Hank passed through a stand of timber. At the bottom of a hill he crossed over an old wooden bridge that rattled gently under the weight of his truck. The road ended and the dog disappeared back into the woods.
Hank pulled the covers around him and fell back asleep, hoping to travel again in the comfort of the same dream. He wanted to get back to the dog, to see where he was leading him.
Later, but still in the early morning hours, the outside temperature dipped into the lower teens. The wind swung to the north. The temperature inside the shelter fell below thirty-two. The animals weren’t bothered. It was pleasant enough for them. The water in the pipes that ran throughout the shelter slowly grew ice-cold. Around 3:15 that morning the first pipe burst. A cascading spray of water shot across the shelter. By dawn three more pipes had burst, and even more water began rushing through the shelter. As the water accumulated, the guests became unhappy with their accommodations.
HAYLEY ARRIVED at the shelter a little after 7:30 that morning. Given the way things had been going over the last few weeks, it seemed fitting that part of the ceiling had collapsed in her office, water was streaming across the floors, and ice was accumulating on the walls and floor. What else? Why me? These questions played in her head like a catchy jingle for some product she definitely didn’t need. Trying to keep her shoes dry, she gingerly crossed over the rivulets of water that ran down the aisles between the cages in the shelter. Her office area was inaccessible, her desk buried beneath an eight-foot segment of water-soaked Sheetrock. She made her way to the utility closet, immediately turned the water supply valve off, and called the city manager.
By 8:15 Hayley had Mayor McDaniel, the city manager, the gas company representative, and the furnace man at the shelter piecing together what had happened. Their coats were tightly wrapped around them. No one wanted to take responsibility for the colossal mess, but in fact it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It turned out that the gas had not been shut off; the ancient furnace had simply given out.
Hayley shook her head and said, “It doesn’t matter what happened. We just have to get it repaired and get this mess cleaned up.”
“Give us a minute, Hayley,” Mayor McDaniel said.
The mayor, city manager, and gas rep spoke to the furnace man about their options. The four of them wandered about the shelter inspecting the mess. Shaking their heads despondently, they returned to Hayley and tried to calmly tell her what they hoped she could figure out on her own. The city manager took the lead.
“There is no way we’re going to get this mess cleaned up without spending a lot of money. The city doesn’t have tens of thousands of dollars to repair an old furnace and clean up a building that is about to be demolished. I’m sorry, Hayley, but this shelter is done with, as far as we’re concerned. You need to find a different place for the dogs you have left or call Doc Pelot and just put them down. Those are the only options we see.”
The mayor knew this was tough medicine for Hayley to swallow. “If you have some better idea, we’ll consider it. Otherwise, what else can we do?”
Hayley’s face was flushed. With a scowl, she asked the mayor, “How about we put them in your garage?”
Mayor Annie McDaniel understood Hayley’s bitterness and tried not to respond in kind. It would do no good to tell Hayley that she was two months late on her mortgage, that she was doing everything in her power to solve the city’s financial problems, and that she cared as much about these animals as the next person.
“Hayley, we’re on the same team, you and me, so please don’t be mad. This stinks, but it’s not as if the city broke the furnace or told the county to sell the shelter grounds and building right out from underneath us. We’re struggling through this, but it’s just the crisis of the day for me. You’re the shelter manager, so I need you to find a solution.”
Hayley glared at her. “Like what?”
“How about one of those other shelters that you were trying to put on standby—the ones in Kansas City? Maybe they can take these last few stragglers?”
About that time Todd and Christmas walked through the front door. Todd’s face was wrinkled with worry. “Was it an ice tornado?”
“It wasn’t a tornado, but it sure looks like it.” Hayley was happy to see Todd and his dog. “The furnace broke and the pipes froze and burst. That’s what caused the mess.”
“Should I start cleaning up?” Todd asked his boss.
Hayley walked over to Todd and, more for her own benefit than his, gave him a hug. She took a step back, but continued to clutch his shoulders with her hands. “Todd, we can’t operate out of the shelter anymore. We have no water or heat. This mess would take days, if not weeks, to clean up. The city has no money to fix this. We can’t let the public come in here to see our dogs in these conditions. We’re going to have to shut down a little earlier than planned. We have no other choice. I’m sorry.”
In the kennel area, twelve cold and wet abandoned dogs were shivering. The last two cats were still with the merchants on Main Street who had adopted them for the holidays. It was just as well; they would have hated being wet, Hayley thought.
She knew that Todd had been training and caring for the dogs, diligently trying so hard to place each dog in a loving home. The animals deserved no less.
Todd asked the logical question: “If they don’t live here, then where do we put them all? Ranger, Gertie, Past Due, Mac, Bird Dog, Tommy Lee, Willy, and the other ones—where will they live?”
Hayley’s voice cracked as she asked, “Todd, do you remember our Plan B? That’s what we have to do.”
“The other shelters?”
“Yes. That’s what we’ll have to do.”
“I don’t like Plan B. You know I don’t like how other shelters operate, and neither do you.
They don’t treat the animals like we do.…” He grew silent, clearly thinking about the possibility that the dogs might be put down at shelters that didn’t embrace a no-kill policy.
Hayley wanted so badly to set an example of strength, but this was too much. She couldn’t bury her hurt and frustration as she tried again to explain. “Todd, they can’t stay here. Look at them. They’re miserable. We can’t care for them here—not anymore. In another shelter, one that is open to the public, someone might adopt them. We just can’t keep them. Not here.”
“I trained Ranger and Bird Dog and all the rest of them. They’re good animals. I can find them homes. I can do it,” he insisted.
Hayley had no idea what more she could say. Todd seemed incapable of facing reality—and no doubt he didn’t want to. She turned away and suppressed a scream. Todd’s idealism was a double-edged sword. He could lift everyone’s spirits so high with his optimism, but in situations like this, when he refused to accept the truth, he could drive his friends and family to distraction.
Annie McDaniel felt like sinking into one of the half-frozen puddles of water that had accumulated on the concrete floor. “Todd?” she asked gently, “what do you think we should do?”
The mayor was soliciting ideas for a long-term solution, but Todd could not get past the more immediate crisis. He looked around at the shelter. “First, we have to get them into dry cages.” Todd turned, walked a few steps, opened the supply closet door, and found a stack of towels. “Let’s dry them off.”
After the dogs were dried and consolidated, Todd walked them back to the three dry cages. Scooping what dry dog chow she could find into feeding bowls, Hayley made sure everyone was fed. It seemed to her that Todd was stunned. She stepped aside and quietly called George on the phone. She told the elder McCray what had happened and the plan to move the animals to another shelter. “Todd seems to be having a hard time accepting that the shelter has been destroyed,” she said. “Staying here is not an option.”
George was not surprised. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He called Mary Ann and, after bringing her up to date on the shelter mess, he asked her if she could leave school for an hour and join him at the shelter so they could speak to Todd together.
It was the last school day before the winter break and not much was happening. She said, “See you there,” and hung up the phone.
“You old buzzard,” Doc Pelot called out from the doorway of Hank’s hospital room, “can I come in?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
“Then get it over with.”
Doc Pelot approached Hank’s bedside leaning on his walnut cane. He moved closer to Hank and spoke to him in a more serious tone. “The nurse just told me you are doing much better today. How are you feeling?”
“I’d like to get out of this bed and move around. Maybe in a few days. We’ll see.”
“Can you walk?”
“Doctor Wilson said I can give it a try this afternoon if I’m still feeling better.”
Doc Pelot was so pleased. “Hank, old friend, we were beginning to question whether you would ever return to the land of the living. If you were that tired of playing gin rummy with me, you could have just said so.”
“I do get tired of losing to you.” The grin left Hank’s face and he continued, “It has been a strange few days. When I woke, I felt lost.”
“I’m glad you found your way back, Hank.” Doc Pelot put his hand out and rested it on Hank’s arm. “You may have picked a good time to check out. While you were sleeping, things have been a little crazy around here.”
“My cows?” Hank asked.
“No, your cows are fine. George has been taking good care of them. No, this is something else. The pipes froze at the shelter last night. The mayor and the city manager are over there now. I just left. It’s a mess. They can’t wait until the first of the year to close the shelter. It has to close now. We’re going to have to step up and figure something out.”
Hank looked at his friend and felt surprised, first, and aggravated, second. He allowed himself to sink further down in the bed. “It sounds like that twenty grand I gave them a few years back to fix up the building was money down the drain. That makes it harder for me to dig in and help again. I tell you, Doc, every time I get sick, this town falls apart.”
“So quit getting sick.”
“Fair enough. I’ll do what I can. What are we going to do without a shelter?”
Doc Pelot slowly lowered himself into one of the guest chairs. “You and I are too old to be running a shelter, Hank. It’s time for the next generation in this community to step up. Otherwise, it’s going to be like the bad old days around here again.”
Hank and Doc Pelot were old enough to remember how unwanted domestic animals had lived before the county shelter was opened, and it was not a time they cared to relive. Abandoned dogs, often traveling in dangerous packs, wandered around starving, rummaging through trash and eating whatever they could find. Desperately hungry, they often got into the feed meant for farm animals or went after the animals themselves, killing chickens, pestering livestock, and more times than not ending up on the receiving end of some farmer’s or rancher’s bullet. Without the free spaying and neutering the shelter offered, cats turned feral, causing problems as they reproduced unchecked and their numbers swelled.
Neglected animals spread illnesses, and, just as bad, the poor creatures became sick themselves; or, left to make their own way with little chance of survival, they suffered debilitating injuries. Neglected when they most needed human help, they suffered unnecessarily.
It was sad, but before their community had a shelter, that was the way it had been. For these two animal lovers, it looked as if the clock might be turned back and once again any unwanted pets would suffer a sorry fate.
Hank shook his head. “I don’t want those old days. What are we going to do?”
“We need to talk about it,” the vet answered.
“Start talking then.”
Holding an old hair dryer in his right hand, Todd switched the red power switch to high and finished drying the dogs as best he could. Retreating to one of the chairs in the lobby area, the mayor sat down. Exhausted, she started to cry. The city manager couldn’t help wondering why he had taken a job in Crossing Trails, Kansas.
George pulled out of the driveway and headed toward Crossing Trails, traveling as fast as he reasonably could. By the time he and Mary Ann arrived at the shelter, the city manager and the mayor had left. George tapped on Mary Ann’s car window.
She opened the car door and got out. “Let’s get this over with.”
There was a glaze of ice on the front door of the shelter. After timidly pushing it open, Mary Ann looked about, shocked. “All this damage from frozen pipes?”
George had seen it happen before and knew what a mess burst pipes could make. He stepped around piles of fallen debris and called out, “Todd?” Hearing no answer, he and Mary Ann negotiated their way back to the kennel area, where they found Hayley trying to set up the propane space heaters that the mayor’s husband had dropped by on his way to work.
When she saw George, she yelled out, “Be careful, the wet floor is slippery!”
George moved cautiously forward with Mary Ann holding his arm. Concerned for his son, George asked, “Where’s Todd?”
“He’s outside in the exercise area with Ranger and Christmas. He’ll be back in a few minutes. Mr. and Mrs. McCray, you’re going to have to help me with him.”
“How?” Mary Ann asked.
“We’re out of options. You need to help Todd understand that the shelter is closed. Now. We will have to transport the last twelve dogs to other shelters. I’ve called around, and we can make it happen today. Todd had it in his head that he could find adoptive families for all of them. We got close, but it’s too late. He knows these other shelters aren’t like ours. I think he’s going to have a hard time with this.”
“We’ll do what
we can,” Mary Ann said, tightening her grip on George’s arm for support.
At that moment, Todd walked through the side door with Ranger and Christmas, both dogs oblivious to the disaster around them and simply excited to be with Todd on a brief outdoor romp.
George looked at Todd, who was smiling and calm despite the circumstances. On so many days, like this one, he wondered if the world fully appreciated his son. His shelter universe was literally collapsing around him. Still, he just kept doing what had to be done. Todd sank to his knees so both dogs could nestle their noses under his chin and deliver their affectionate message of gratitude for his care.
Suddenly he stood up. “Watch this!” He moved his flat hand horizontally across his chest. Suddenly, he dropped it vertically to complete an L-shaped gesture. “Sit.”
Like synchronized swimmers, both dogs sat. “Good job.” Todd reached into his pocket and gave both Ranger and Christmas a training treat.
George knew that the world wouldn’t care much if a dozen dogs in a small town in Kansas made it or not, but their fate would make a world of difference to his son. If Todd was a gift to the world, then from time to time the world could darn well make a gift back to Todd. George saw that he had something to give. He could give a gift that really mattered. George bent down and had an imaginary conversation with Christmas. With the discussion completed, he looked first at Mary Ann and then at Todd.
“You would never believe what this dog of ours just told me,” he said with great seriousness.
Todd smiled. It was not the first time George had played this game with him. On many occasions Christmas had “told” Todd he needed to clean his room or do some other chore he’d been neglecting.
“What did he say this time, Dad?” Todd asked, playing along.
George crouched down again, pretending to receive a canine communiqué. “What’s that, boy? Okay, I’ll tell them. This old dog says that your shelter friends need a home for Christmas.”
A Christmas Home: A Novel Page 12