by Aris Austin
Anthony responded, but Shadow didn’t listen to any of the specific words being said. Ignoring people had become almost automatic. A curtain of grief distorted their words, and only brief fragments of the outside world broke into Shadow’s consciousness. He’d been vaguely aware of the sun coming up in the morning, and hazy memories of being carried to the common room occasionally floated through his mind. The dog from across the hall had tried to play with him, but eventually gave up. Shadow spent most of the day in the corner of his kennel, ignoring the barking of other dogs and the soothing voices of human visitors.
Sometime just after dark, the telltale click of the front door’s deadbolt echoed through the shelter, signaling the staff’s departure for the night. Shadow sighed in relief. He felt guilty for ignoring all the humans who tried to comfort him, but he couldn’t help it. Didn’t they understand that Brian was gone? How could they tell him everything was going to be alright?
As a puppy, Shadow had worried himself sick every time Brian left for work. He’d whine at the door for hours, staring and pawing until it swung open and his human finally returned. He eventually learned to trust that Brian would always return, but that trust had been misplaced. Only strangers came through the shelter’s doors, and the only thing worth staring at was the back wall of the kennel. Shadow stared at the wall in the darkness the same way he did in the daylight; too tired to stay awake, but too upset to fall asleep.
Long after the other dogs had all gone to sleep, a woman opened the gate to Shadow’s kennel and slipped inside. He hadn’t heard her unlock the shelter’s front door, which was odd because humans were normally so loud and clumsy. She took a seat on the floor next to Shadow’s bed, filling the kennel with her scent. Every human had their own unique scent. Brian’s had been something like sweat and sea salt. This woman smelled of unwashed hair, with a hint of dryer lint.
She sat in the dark for a long time, not saying anything. She didn’t even try to convince Shadow to eat, which was a pleasant surprise. People dropping handfuls of food in front of his face had grown tiresome.
“Hey buddy,” she finally said.
Shadow winced. “Buddy” was Brian’s nickname for him, and he wasn’t exactly ready to hear it again. He considered ignoring the woman, but her voice had a slightly melodic quality to it, each note gently floating into his ears. It was soothing, and quite different from the pitying voices of other visitors. Shadow decided to listen, at least a little bit.
The woman was silent for a moment. Then she continued carefully, as if speaking to a frightened puppy. “I hear your name’s Shadow. I think that’s a great name.
“You don’t look much like a shadow though. Your fur isn’t dark enough. Do you like to follow people around? Is that why you’re named Shadow? I guess some people name dogs Shadow just ‘cause they can, huh?”
She paused as if she expected a response. Then she said, “My name’s Annie. Well actually, it’s Anise, like the seed. I like Annie better though, so that’s what I go by. Do you like aniseed? Maybe you’ve never had it. Wanna know a secret about it?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper, so only Shadow could hear. “I actually hate the way it tastes.”
Annie laughed, a sound that made Shadow’s ears prick up involuntarily. Her laugh was very different from Brian’s laugh, or anyone else in Shadow’s old family. It reminded him of the first birds that chirp after a rainstorm; hesitant at first, and then excited and shrill.
“Isn’t that awful?” she asked. “I hate the plant I’m named after. To be honest, I kinda hate that it’s my name. I mean, I guess it’s a pretty name in theory, but the kids on the playground used to call me Anus instead of Anise, and I guess I never really got over that. I always laughed it off, but here I am fifteen years later, still hating my real name. That’s okay, I guess. At least I like being called Annie.”
She reached out a hand to pet Shadow’s back. “You know, when I was a little girl, I had a dog who looked just like you. Her name was Penny, like the coin.”
Annie laughed again, and Shadow couldn’t help but feel a little warmth. “We had three cats and she was the only dog, so poor Penny lived her entire life thinking she was a cat. She’d always try to sleep on the back of the sofa, and she always looked so confused when she fell off!
“She’d try to follow the cats into cardboard boxes too, but she never seemed to notice that she didn’t quite fit. I think the cats got a little irritated from time to time, because she kept flattening their boxes.
“Do you like cats, Shadow? Have you ever met any? I bet you’d like them. Most of them are pretty quiet, and they like to sleep, just like you.
“I miss living with cats sometimes. I wanted to adopt one when I moved here, but it says in my lease that any cats living in the apartment had to be declawed. What an awful rule, right? I bet every other apartment complex got rid of rules like that twenty years ago. Declawing is illegal in a bunch of other countries, you know.
“Anyway, there was no way I was going to have some poor cat mutilated like that just to make my landlord happy, so I decided not to take anyone home for now.”
She sighed. “I just love cats, and there are so many out there who need homes, you know? I guess I’ll just have to wait though. I love my dogs, too!”
Annie’s hand rested on Shadow’s back for a moment, and then resumed stroking his fur in a new pattern. Her presence comforted Shadow, although he still refused to look at her.
Annie didn’t seem to mind being ignored. She talked to Shadow for hours, one subject flowing into the next. Stories from her childhood. The way her car didn’t brake quite right, which was a little worrisome in the snow. The antics of the two dogs who lived with her, Cam and Oliver. Shadow’s favorite story of the night was about Cam.
“Cammie’s always been a little terrified of the vacuum,” Annie said. “He always just goes to hide in the closet whenever I’m cleaning. A few weeks ago though, I was vacuuming behind the couch and the vacuum just stopped all of the sudden. I thought it broke for a moment, but it turned out that the plug just came out of the wall.
“I had it plugged in around the corner in the hallway, so the cord was stretched out pretty far. I just assumed I’d accidentally pulled it out with the vacuum, so I plugged it in and went back to cleaning.
“As soon as I turned the vacuum on though, it shut off again! I ran back around the corner and there was Cam, standing there with the cord in his mouth! He figured out that pulling it out of the wall makes the vacuum stop! I had to teach him to stop doing that of course, but not before I had a good laugh.”
Shadow couldn’t help but feel a little bit of amusement. He hated the vacuum too, but he hadn’t ever thought to pull the plug on it.
As the night went on, Annie rested her head on the blankets only a few feet from Shadow’s face. Eventually, she stopped stroking his back and just rested her hand in one place. The stories grew shorter, and the breaks between stories grew longer. In the middle of a story about how she had nearly started a kitchen fire last month, Annie’s voice trailed off completely. The steady, rhythmic breathing of sleep took its place.
Only then did Shadow outwardly acknowledge Annie’s presence there. He carefully lifted his head and sniffed her the first time, fully taking in her scent. In addition to the human-smell and the dryer lint, Shadow could smell the dogs, Cam and Oliver. The pasta Annie had eaten for dinner lingered on her breath. Whole wheat pasta, with a simple oil and garlic sauce. There was an assortment of vegetables mixed in with the pasta too, but Shadow didn’t bother to sort them out. He’d never liked vegetables very much anyway.
Shadow stared at Annie, bewildered. Who was this woman, who spoke so sweetly and laughed like the birds? And why did she seem to care so much about him?
A beam of moonlight shone through the kennel’s window, illuminating Annie’s face. She was young for a human, maybe twenty-four or so. It was always hard to tell with humans. Her hair was the color of wet sand, her skin the color of
dry sand. Strands of her hair fell across her face, just barely obscuring her eyes. She slept on her side, with one arm resting on Shadow’s back. The other arm was folded under her body, completely hidden except for a slender wrist and a single piece of jewelry: a bent fork. Beyond the fork was Annie’s hand, fingers clutching at the drawstrings of her jacket. Shadow had to resist the urge to chew on the drawstrings. Humans didn’t seem to appreciate having their clothing chewed on, and he didn’t want to upset Annie.
Strange, he thought. He hadn’t wanted to chew anything since Brian left. Maybe this woman was worth liking. Liking her would be alright, he supposed. He had no desire to love her though. He had no desire to ever love a human ever again.
Annie’s face suddenly twisted into a scowl. Her fingers tightened around the drawstring, twitching several times before relaxing again. Shadow wondered if she was having a nightmare. Years of living with young children had taught him how to calm a sleeping human without ever waking them, and Shadow employed those skills for Annie. He reached out with a paw, gingerly pushing her forearm down to the blankets. After a brief moment of hesitation, he set his chin down on the paw, careful not to disturb the catheter taped to his forelimb. Annie let out a quiet whimper, but then the muscles in her face slowly relaxed. Within a few heartbeats, all signs of the nightmare were gone.
They stayed like that for the rest of the night, with Annie asleep and Shadow awake. By the end of the night, Shadow knew Annie perfectly. He knew her by smell, by the sound of her breathing. The touch and tone of her arm, limp and relaxed under his protective paw.
Shadow had never been particularly good at keeping track of the time, but it seemed like morning came earlier than usual that day. When a sunbeam crossed Annie’s face, she woke with a start, apparently shocked that she’d fallen asleep. Then she noticed Shadow’s paw on her arm and smiled.
“There you go, buddy. I knew there was still someone in there.”
Annie gave Shadow a kiss on the top of his head, just as Brian’s daughter Bri had done so many times in the past. Then she stood, ran a hand through her disheveled hair, and left Shadow’s kennel.
Shadow slept in his corner and ignored the humans for most of the day, still paralyzed by the throbbing ache that had replaced his heartbeat. He couldn’t deny that something felt different, though. The aching was certainly still there, painful as ever. But a tiny flicker of warmth had been ignited in Shadow’s chest, and it pushed against the cold ache with all of its strength. It faded throughout the day, but came back even stronger ever time Annie visited. She never stayed for the entire night again, but she always managed to keep Shadow company for at least a little while after everyone else had gone home.
On the third night of the visits, Shadow actually raised his head in greeting when Annie entered the kennel. On the fourth, he turned around to face her while she spoke.
Shadow remained dead to the world while the sun was up, but felt himself come to life at night. The warmth in his chest grew every moment he spent with Annie, fighting against the pain with a force and ferocity he didn’t know he had. On the fifth night, Shadow found himself resting his head on Annie’s lap while she told him about how the heat in her apartment had gone out.
“Of course it had to happen in January,” she said. “Last night, I put every blanket I own on my bed. Cam and Ollie stayed under the blankets with me, but it was still too cold. I think I’m just going to buy a little space heater for tonight. Knowing my landlord, I’ll probably need it for the next week, at least.”
Annie stroked the side of Shadow’s neck while she talked, and he allowed her touch to comfort him. He only understood some of the stories she told, and was entirely uncertain about what she meant when she talked about things like landlords and leases and space heaters. Despite that little problem, Annie’s voice was already on its way to becoming Shadow’s favorite sound in the world. She could have talked about anything and he still would have been happy.
Happy. Shadow hadn’t ever expected to be happy again.
He pondered the fact that Annie made him feel happy long after she left that night and for most of the next day. He couldn’t seem to get her off of his mind, all through the morning and afternoon. Why was she being so nice to him? Why would a human wear a fork around her wrist? And most of all, when was she coming to see him again?
When Annie came to tell Shadow a story that night, he actually stood to greet her. She was ecstatic.
“Shadow! You’re up!” She knelt down and threw her arms around his neck, but quickly released her grip. “Sorry buddy, I forgot dogs aren’t very into hugs.”
Annie gave Shadow’s back a quick scratch before sitting down by the bed. He followed close behind, settling down onto the blankets and resting his head on her lap. She told a special story that night, about a man she’d met recently. They’d only spoken for a few moments last weekend, but tomorrow they were going to lunch together. His name was Hunter, which wasn’t a name she particularly liked, since a boy named Hunter had once teased her on the playground. His personality made up for it though, and his looks, too. Annie giggled about that last comment before listing off his features—a strong jaw, neat blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and a mischievous grin. She wanted their date to go well, and she confessed that she was incredibly nervous.
Shadow realized that Annie must trust him, to open up about her secrets like that. It was the same thing his old family had once done. The children would come home from school and tell him about their bad day, or Amy would explain that she didn’t get the promotion, or Brian would confide in Shadow about a recent quarrel with his wife. Shadow knew everyone’s secrets, probably because he listened to everyone so well. And when he learned a secret, it was safe with him.
Annie finished her story by telling Shadow she wished summer would arrive, so tomorrow’s date could be outside instead of indoors.
“I love being outside. I just feel so cooped up in the winter, you know? All I want is a nice day in the park, surrounded by trees and fresh air. With enough clouds to keep things cool, but not so many that it gets dark. I like to go for jogs in the park during the summer, you know. There’s nothing quite like the way the wind feels on your face, especially when you get going fast.”
Shadow’s tail wagged a little as he pictured Annie’s day in the park. He loved feeling the wind on his face too, even if he wasn’t able to run particularly fast anymore. However, he had to disagree about feeling cooped up in the winter. Plowing through deep snow was Shadow’s favorite outdoor activity.
Annie glanced at Shadow’s wagging tail and smiled. Her voice took on an excited tone. “Do you like going outside, buddy?”
Shadow allowed his tongue to loll out of his mouth in affirmation. He didn’t even mind that Annie had called him buddy.
“Well,” said Annie, “you be good and start eating your food and getting up for walks, okay? Then you can go outside! I’ll take you myself!”
Shadow decided he liked that idea, and allowed his tail to wag a little more. Annie smiled and rose to leave, giving his side a gentle pat. “You’re getting better, buddy. I’m proud of you.
“Good night, Shadow.” Annie stepped through the kennel’s gate and shut it behind her. Then she swept her gaze across the rest of the kennels and said, “Good night puppies!”
Shadow watched Annie leave, and for a long time after the door’s hinges creaked shut, he didn’t move. He’d broken his vow to never get up, but something about Annie made him want to be a dog again, all full of life and energy.
For the first time in over a week, Shadow realized how hungry and thirsty he was. He walked—or limped, since refusing to move for a week is particularly hard on old joints—to his food and water bowls and set himself the task of regaining his strength.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Shadow sat facing the front of his kennel. The day took on a different tone with the new view, and it greatly helped his mood. Early in the morning, an army of humans Shadow had previo
usly ignored refilled each dog’s food and water. Excited barking echoed down the hall, quieted only by the ring of dry food landing in hard bowls. The humans were delighted to see that Shadow’s bowl was empty, so they gave him an extra scoop. He appreciated the gesture, although he wished they would just bring some less crumbly food.
A short time later, the same army returned with mops. This concerned Shadow at first, but after a while, he realized that the mops meant no harm and only wanted to wash away any excrement left in the kennels overnight. Throughout the morning, everyone who entered Shadow’s kennel was sure to give him a few quick scratches or a pat on the back, explaining to him how glad they were that he was finally up. He accepted their kindness, but didn’t reciprocate. His affection was still reserved for Annie. She had earned it.
Annie arrived around midday with another woman, who Shadow identified as the owner of the voice that urged him to get up for walks. She had close-cropped black hair, dotted with little silver flecks that glinted like stars in a midnight sky. Her skin was a rich brown at least two shades darker than Shadow’s eyes. She seemed surprised that Shadow was actually up, but clipped a leash to his collar without questioning it.
“Hey, buddy!” Annie exclaimed. “I’m so glad you’re up this morning. I hear you’ve been eating and drinking too!
“This is Kim,” she said, motioning to the woman. “She’s been coming to take you on walks recently, but I told her I’d take you today.”
Annie was such a thoughtful human, always taking the time to explain things to Shadow. He liked knowing what was going on, and being in on the plan made him trust Annie even more.
Kim passed the leash to Annie and reached down to stroke Shadow’s fur. Since the air was still full of the floor cleaner’s harsh smell, Shadow had trouble picking out her scent until she was already touching him. Mostly, Kim smelled like children—two of them—and the sticky syrup one of them had undoubtedly spilled on her hand that morning. Most of the syrup had been washed away, but Shadow licked at Kim’s hand just in case there was any left.