Shadow

by Aris Austin

  Shadow

  Aris Austin

  Shadow

  Copyright © Aris Austin 2016

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without express written permission from the author, with the exception of brief excerpts used for articles, promotions, or discussions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Published by Austin Joseph

  Denver, CO

  ISBN 978-1540774941

  Chapter 1

  “Come on Shadow! Over here!”

  Shadow shook the snowflakes from his coppery coat and turned to follow the sound of the man’s voice. The man, a tall, pale human named Brian, led Shadow down the snow-covered driveway and toward the family car. Shadow wasn’t exactly sure where they were going yet, but he had learned to trust Brian over the eleven years they’d been together.

  Wherever they were headed, it was apparent that the new puppy hadn’t been invited. He and the rest of the family were still inside, sound asleep. Whatever adventure awaited Shadow would be like the old days, after Brian had saved him from the dog shelter all those years ago. Before the marriage, before the children, before the puppy. Shadow loved the family, of course, but he was looking forward to having Brian’s undivided attention again. Just the two of them. The thought was enough to make his tail wag.

  Shadow paused at the curb, sniffing at the family’s old Christmas tree. The tree had been in the house only a few days earlier, surrounded by presents, but had gone outside shortly after Christmas. Christmas trees did that every year.

  Many Christmas trees ago, Shadow had delighted in eating prickly needles off of the lower branches, but now he was content to simply take in the smell. It reminded him of the endless forests he and Brian used to explore together.

  “Shadow, come on!”

  Shadow took one last sniff before hobbling over to the car, where Brian waited impatiently. Long ago, he would have run to the car with huge, bounding strides, but age had taken its toll on his bones and running just wasn’t worth the joint pain. Fortunately, with age came patience. Shadow didn’t rush, climbing into the car just one paw at a time before gently lowering himself into a seat.

  Most days, Brian’s wife Amy got to sit in the passenger seat, meaning Shadow had to share the back with Bri and Bel. Amy and the children were all asleep though, and the passenger seat was Shadow’s for the taking. He panted excitedly as Brian ducked into the driver’s seat, and nearly hyperventilated when the engine sputtered to life. A dog could see the whole world from the front seat of a car. That’s what made it so special.

  Brian swung the car out into the road, tires crunching over frozen patches of snow. Shadow stared through the window, watching the snow disappear beneath the car faster and faster, until the road was only a blur of white patches on black asphalt. Houses came into focus through the windshield, then shot by as quickly as they had appeared. Shadow whipped his head back and forth from windshield to window, drinking in the details of each speeding house.

  When he grew bored with the houses, Shadow’s attention turned back to Brian. Just the sight of the man brought on all the comfort and safety a dog could ever want. His pale face, covered in the scratchy stubble that tickled Shadow’s tongue when he gave Brian kisses. The hard, gray eyes fixed firmly on the road. His fingers, all covered in hair—or, about as covered in hair as a human could get—that knew just the right way to scratch Shadow’s favorite spots. Every bit of this man was familiar. Shadow had adored Brian’s briny scent and low, quiet voice for nearly his entire life.

  It was Brian who had rescued him from the shelter all those years ago. Brian who had taken him on long hikes or winter jogs; who had tossed scraps under the table for him; who always scratched the perfect spot while Shadow napped. They had been together long before the rest of the family came along, and as long as Shadow was in Brian’s presence, he was a happy dog.

  Although their love was the same, each of them had changed since their first days together. Shadow’s knees had started to ache on cold mornings. Barely noticeable flecks of gray now dotted Brian’s stubble, and prominent splashes of silver gathered at the end of Shadow’s muzzle. Brian’s nose had been straight when Shadow first met him, but in the intervening years, an accident had caused it to turn slightly to the left.

  The day of the accident had been an icy day many years earlier, back when Shadow could still accompany Brian on his morning runs. Heavy snows the previous week had led to the removal of broken trees, revealing an overgrown trail off to the side of their normal running route. Exploring was the natural choice. Shadow raced ahead, off-leash as usual, nimbly leaping over thick roots and patches of ice. Brian had done his best to follow, but the poor human only had two legs instead of four. When a toe caught on a twisted root, Brian went flying forward, smashing face-first into the ice.

  Shadow went back to his human’s side immediately, howling for help until the man finally woke up. The pool of steaming blood beneath Brian’s face was so large that for a few agonizing moments, Shadow had worried his human wouldn’t wake up at all. Even though it was only a memory, Shadow couldn’t help but whimper out loud. The idea of losing Brian was unbearable.

  Brian took his eyes off the road for only a moment, staring at Shadow with concern. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

  He reached out to scratch Shadow’s head, with a touch that had an instantly calming effect. It’s okay, Shadow thought. Brian’s okay now. It was only a memory, and Brian is never ever going anywhere.

  Once they reached their destination—a small, poorly plowed parking lot—Shadow waited patiently for Brian to come around the car and open the door. Once the door finally did open, Brian knelt in front of it and scratched the back of Shadow’s head. “Be good, alright?”

  Condensation curled up from Brian’s mouth, carrying the minty scent of gum with it. Shadow’s only response was to give Brian’s face a couple of licks, which tickled his tongue. Brian’s stubble always tickled, but Shadow didn’t mind it much. There was never a bad time for face-licking.

  “Thank you,” said Brian. He clipped a leash to Shadow’s collar, which was confusing to say the least. He hadn’t worn a leash in years. Why did he have to wear one now? Shadow trusted Brian though, and followed without hesitation when the man stood up. He padded through the parking lot at Brian’s side, panting at the shiny new watch on his human’s wrist. The watch was only a few days old, and had been a Christmas present, like the new puppy. Brian loved getting new toys, even when the old ones still worked. His old watch was probably sitting in some dark drawer, already forgotten. No doubt it would remain there for years, faithfully ticking away until its batteries finally ran out.

  Good thing dogs were different from watches. Shadow lapped at a stray snowflake that landed on his nose, quickly forgetting all about the watch. The air tasted frozen today, almost as frozen as the snowflake. Brian looked uncomfortable in his thin jacket, but Shadow didn’t mind the temperature. For some reason, the cold never fazed him. Maybe all of those long winter jogs with Brian had made him immune to the frozen air.

  Shadow turned his attention back to the parking lot, trying to figure out why everything seemed so familiar. A nearby building with cracking paint looked so familiar he could almost smell it, but he still couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t the vet. Shadow would have recognized the vet immediately. It could have been some new trail Brian wanted to try, since there was a trail snaking along behind the building. Brian wouldn’t leash him for a run though, and he wasn’t dressed for the cold. Shadow decided not to give it too much thoug
ht. Brian seemed to have a plan. Brian always had a plan.

  Their destination turned out to be the familiar building with cracking paint. Brian held the door open, and the smell of the place hit Shadow the moment he stepped inside. He knew it from his earliest days, somewhere deep down in his memory. His nose wasn’t quite what it used to be, but it worked well enough to pick apart most of the individual scents. There was the scent of cleaner on the floors, so strong it made Shadow wrinkle up his nose. The air carried hints of dog food too, but not the kind from home. Soap, concrete, dust burning in the filter of a poorly maintained space heater…each smell did little to mask the dominant scent in the air. Dogs.

  The realization of where they were only confused Shadow more. He stared up at Brian, nervously swishing his tail from side to side. A woman seated behind a nearby desk started to speak, but Shadow interrupted her with an anxious whine. Why were they back here? There was no reason to be back here.

  Shadow couldn’t understand it. Dogs who had families weren’t supposed to be there. It didn’t matter that there were worse places for dogs to be. This was not a happy place. And when Brian had adopted him eleven years ago, Shadow never thought he’d see the shelter again.

  Chapter 2

  “How can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked again. One of her hands rested on the keyboard of a computer, the other on a desk phone. She peered at Brian and Shadow through a thick set of glasses, almost suspiciously.

  “Um, I have an adoption return,” said Brian.

  The woman snapped a form into a clipboard and stood up from her desk. “When was the animal adopted out?”

  “Eleven years ago, in December,” said Brian.

  She hesitated, glancing at Shadow. “What’s the reason for the return?”

  Brian shrugged. “He’s just getting too old and slow for my family and me. We’re active, and we need an active dog who likes to run fast and play. I just think he’d be better off with someone who has a quieter lifestyle.”

  The woman stared at Brian for a moment, her mouth slightly open. She let out an exasperated sigh much too quiet for human ears, but more than loud enough for Shadow to notice. He wasn’t certain he liked this woman. Her voice was too abrasive. Too cold and unfriendly.

  “Okay well, we’ll need to fill out this form,” said the woman. “I’ll take him into the next room for an intake assessment. What’s his name?”

  “Shadow,” said Brian.

  The woman nodded curtly and took Shadow’s leash. “Wait out here.”

  She led Shadow through a door and into a room full of gleaming examination tables. A tall, thin man waited inside, dressed in a set of scrubs that weren’t quite long enough for him. His hair, wiry and short, was a steely gray color that stood out in contrast with the deep brown of his skin. He glanced up as Shadow and the woman entered, revealing a dark, watery set of eyes.

  “Hi Anthony. Intake,” said the woman. “Some jerk out there decided to return a dog because he got too old. I’ve seen people like him before. Dump the dog when he’s not ‘fun enough’ anymore. I almost let him have it right out there.”

  The man called Anthony removed a pair of reading glasses from his face and sighed. “You know you can’t yell at people for bringing dogs here, Deb. But I know. Some people just don’t seem to understand that dogs aren’t toys.”

  Anthony spoke in a smooth, even tone that suggested he’d spent as much time conversing with frightened animals as with people. He shook his head slowly, then turned his gaze to Shadow. “Well, I supposed we can’t do much about it right now. What’s this guy’s name?”

  “This is Shadow,” said Deb.

  “Well, let’s take a look at Shadow then.”

  He led Shadow to a scale and had him sit. When the scale chirped, Anthony turned to Deb and said, “58 pounds.”

  After Shadow stepped off the scale, the two humans lifted him onto an exam table. Shadow waited patiently while Anthony looked him over, deciding he liked the man. His voice had a calming effect. Every time he spoke, Shadow couldn’t help but smile the classic dog smile: slightly open mouth, bright eyes, and tongue hanging out on the left side.

  Anthony gave Shadow a quick pat on the back, and then spoke quickly while he conducted the intake exam. Deb gave Anthony no verbal indication that she heard, only nodding from time to time while she took notes about what he said.

  “Brown eyes. Brown fur. Black nose and ears, gray around the muzzle. And his back paws are white.”

  He pulled Shadow’s lips up and poked around. Shadow had to resist the urge to pull away. “Healthy teeth and gums,” said Anthony.

  Shadow ignored most of the assessment, blocking out the doctor’s poking and prodding. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the door separating him from Brian. He knew Brian would be waiting on the other side of the door, just like any trip to the normal vet. Still, Shadow wanted to be by his human’s side again. Even with Brian waiting just a few feet away, the shelter made him inexplicably nervous.

  “His knees are a little stiff. He’s an older dog, so might be he’s developing a little arthritis. We’ll watch his hips too.”

  Before he even finished speaking, Anthony wrapped his arms around Shadow’s chest in an inescapable grip. He let go before very long though, and then stepped back to wave a hand in front of Shadow’s face. Shadow tried his best to watch the hand, but the faster it went, the dizzier he got. He was almost ready to fall off of the table by the time Anthony finally stopped. “Good boy. No signs of fear or aggression, and no biting yet. Alright Shadow, time for a quick blood test.”

  As a puppy, Shadow had been terrified of needles. He’d been to the vet plenty of times over the years though, and stared ahead with stoic indifference while Anthony drew a vial of blood.

  Anthony crossed to the other side of the room. Shadow expected Deb to follow, but she stayed put, still busy scratching out mysterious human letters onto her form. Eventually, she finished and set the form aside to give Shadow a few quick scratches.

  His tail wagged with excitement. He’d never met this woman before, but somehow she knew he liked to be scratched! Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all! Shadow leaned forward to lick Deb’s face, but she ducked out of the way just before his tongue made contact with her glasses. Unfazed by the rejection, he flopped onto his side so Deb could rub his belly.

  Anthony called over his shoulder from across the room, interrupting the belly rub. “Rapid heartworm test is negative. Go ahead and take him in. Oh, and put the guy leaving him here on the Do Not Adopt list.”

  Deb nodded and wrapped her arms under Shadow, lowering him back to the floor with a grunt.

  “You’re heavier than you look,” she said. Then she straightened, adjusted her hair, and took hold of the leash. “Come on, Shadow.”

  Shadow followed Deb back to the lobby, pleased with how brave he’d been at the vet. Brian was always proud when he was brave, and a proud Brian made him happier than almost anything else. He waited as patiently as possible for the leash to be passed from Deb’s hands back to Brian’s, but that moment never came. Instead, only words passed between the humans, and then Brian knelt down to pat Shadow on the head.

  “Bye, buddy.”

  Shadow wagged his tail nervously, unsure of what Brian meant. He understood goodbye, but where could Brian possibly be going without him?

  Brian stood and thanked Deb. Then he turned and walked out the door without even a glance behind him.

  Shadow decided he would be good. He decided that he wouldn’t bark, or even whine. He simply stood rigid by the glass doors, watching Brian’s distant figure climb into the car. And watching the car pull out of the parking space. And watching it creep toward the edge of the parking lot.

  Shadow swallowed the whine rising in his throat. Brian would come back for him. He just had to be patient. There was a tug on the leash as Deb tried to pull him away from the doors, but he refused to budge. Outside, Brian’s car turned onto the road and gained speed.


  Shadow felt vaguely aware of more pulling on his leash, but didn’t give it much thought. He kept his gaze fixed on the corner where the car had disappeared, waiting for the return of his human. His Brian. His best friend.

  Deb grabbed Shadow’s collar while some unseen human pulled on the leash, forcing him to look away. They had to drag him for the first few steps, but after that he gave in and followed Deb through a new door. The new door led to a second door, which led to a long hallway lined with rows of kennels on either side. The kennels seemed large enough for comfort, but there wasn’t exactly any room to explore. Most of them were occupied by dogs, some of whom barked at Shadow. Barking just for the sake of noise had always annoyed Shadow, but he tried not to let it get to him. Brian would be back soon anyway. He had to be back soon.

  Deb opened the gate on an empty kennel and ushered Shadow inside. The kennel was arranged in a simple manner: food and water on the floor by the gate. A plastic bed in a back corner, along with a few blankets to offer some protection from the concrete floor’s chill. The gate’s chain links stretched from ceiling to floor, eliminating any chance of escape. The gate seemed almost ominous, but Shadow tried not to let it bother him. Brian knew how to open gates.

  Deb knelt down and unhooked the leash from Shadow’s collar. “I’m sorry that guy left you here,” she said. “You don’t deserve that. Don’t worry though, we’ll find you a new home in no time.”

  She folded the leash into her hand and gave Shadow a halfhearted smirk. “At least he forgot his leash, right? There’s a little payback for him.”

  Deb stood and stepped out of the kennel, closing the gate behind her. As she disappeared through the door at the end of the hall, Shadow made sure to memorize the squealing of the door’s hinges. He had no doubt that the squealing was important to remember. That was the door Brian would come through, whenever he came back.