Shadow

by Aris Austin

  “…been here a little over eleven months. What, unadoptable? No, he’s really sweet. He just had some bad luck. Oh, your policy says he is. Well, thank you anyway. Bye.”

  Shadow rolled over and rested his silver muzzle on his paws. He tried to stay awake and listen to Annie, but his eyelids were just so heavy…

  While he slept, Shadow dreamt that Riley was there in the common room with him. She slept soundly on the other side of the Christmas tree, but awakened when he licked her. Riley let out a greeting bark, her voice more full of life and energy than ever before. After their customary sniffing and greeting, the dogs spotted a bag of treats perched high in the tree. The treats were so close that Shadow could almost taste them, but they were just out of reach. He whined, but Riley didn’t seem worried. She stretched high up and leaned against the tree, almost as if it were a human she hadn’t seen in a while. How could Riley stretch up like that? Shadow wondered. He couldn’t even do that, and her arthritis was much worse than his. By the time Shadow realized what his friend intended, the tree was already falling…

  Shadow woke to the sound of Annie’s muffled sobs. Worried, he skipped his customary post-nap shake and hurried to the office window, nearly knocking the tree over in the process. Annie sat at the desk in the office, head buried in her hands. Strands of hair curled in front of her face, strangled by clenching fingers. She shuddered with every breath, and worry raced into Shadow’s heart. What was wrong? Who hurt his friend?

  Humans didn’t seem to like barking, but their hearing was just so bad that sometimes it was the only way to get their attention. So, Shadow barked. When Annie didn’t react, he barked again.

  Annie slowly lifted her head, turning to face the glass. She rose, pushed back her long strands of hair, and opened the door to the common room. She knelt in front of Shadow, hugging a knee close to her chest. The crying had stopped, but she still smelled like tears, and her eyes looked ready to overflow again at any given moment.

  “Hey buddy,” she finally managed.

  Shadow started to sit, remembered that sitting hurt his knees, and stood back up. Then he focused on Annie again, giving her a concerned look.

  “Sorry, I was just trying to find other shelters to take you in case…” she trailed off. During the silence, a dog with floppy ears walked over to sniff at Annie’s shoe. He must not have found what he was looking for, because he turned and walked away again after only a few seconds.

  “I don’t want to scare you,” Annie said. “But none of them had room. And our foster system is still full from the floods.”

  Annie’s voice cracked. “It just isn’t fair, buddy. You’re such a good dog. I knew this happened, but I told myself it didn’t happen so much at this shelter. There was a dog whose year ended when I first started here, but I barely knew her. And Riley… she was so good too, but she got sick. I’ve never seen healthy dogs like you have to…” She paused again to wipe away a tear that had spilled over the edge of her eye.

  Shadow remembered the last time he’d seen Annie cry, just after Hunter had hit her. What could possibly be that bad again? That old unscratchable itch of worry cropped up in Shadow’s chest. He whined at Annie, prompting her to rest a hand on his side.

  “You know,” she sniffed, “when I was a little girl, I said I was going to save all of the animals. All over the world. Some kids wanted to be an astronaut, or a doctor… I just wanted to help you all. All the dogs, and the cows, and the dolphins. I thought it would be easy to save every animal, because I thought grownups knew everything.”

  Another tear streamed down Annie’s face, briefly hesitating above the scar left by Hunter before continuing down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away, holding her palms out in frustration instead.

  “And yet, now I’m all grown up and I just feel so… powerless. I mean, I rescued Cam and Ollie and I like to think I did some good by taking a job here but why is it so hard? I don’t know what to do, Shadow. There has to be something I can do but I don’t know what!”

  Her hands returned to her face, and she let out a choking sob. Shadow forgot all of the other dogs in the room, forgot the rest of the shelter. Annie was his best friend in the world, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry. He lifted a paw to Annie’s face and used it to pull one of her hands away, careful not to scratch her. She covered her eyes again almost immediately, but after a second try, she let her hands fall to her sides. Then she stared at Shadow with the saddest look he’d ever seen. Tears covered her face, rolling down her cheeks in rivulets. Her bottom lip quivered, ready to curl downward and release a fresh wave of sobs at any moment.

  Shadow couldn’t stand it. He licked the salty tears away from her face, just as he had done the last time she cried. And, just like the last time, every lick slowly made Annie’s sobs transform into laughter. Even the laugher was different this time though, strangled and laced with pain.

  Annie stopped crying just long enough to throw her arms around Shadow’s neck and hug him tight. He resisted the urge to squirm away from the hug, resting his chin on Annie’s shoulder for a long time. When Annie finally spoke again, it was in a whisper, as if anything louder might cause her to burst into tears.

  “What are we going to do, buddy?”

  Chapter 15

  Shadow gnawed on his new tennis ball, testing its springiness with rhythmic bites. Bite down, spring back. His old tennis ball had lost some of its springiness, but the new one was perfect. It had all of the bounce a ball should have, although he didn’t particularly appreciate the way it left little green fluffs all over his tongue. Bite down, spring back.

  He had received the ball two days ago, as a Christmas present. Bite down, spring back. The staff had left stockings outside of each dog’s kennel, full of gifts Shadow could smell but couldn’t see. On Christmas morning, they unloaded the contents of each stocking for the dogs, which caused more barking than Shadow had heard in his entire year at the shelter. In addition to the ball, Shadow received a candy-cane shaped dog treat that cracked between his jaws in an absolutely delightful way. Bite down, spring back.

  It had been a good day—one of the best days at the shelter—and had provided some distraction from the normal monotony of the kennel. Still, Christmas at the shelter was painfully different from Christmas at home. Christmas day at Brian’s house had always started early. Shadow helped the children tear open their presents, then helped them play with their new toys. The aromas of various foods drifted out of the kitchen, savory and sweet and greasy. Guests were usually over for dinner in the evening, which Shadow had always loved because guests were the most likely to sneak scraps to him at the table.

  Last Christmas, the children had gotten a new puppy. And only a few days later, Brian left Shadow at the shelter. Shadow wondered if the new puppy was still at home. He even felt a twinge of worry for the noisy little dog. They would love him well, but only until he got old and slow. Then who would love him?

  Shadow didn’t like thinking about his old family, so perhaps it was a blessing that Christmas was so different at the shelter. After presents had been distributed and the morning cleaning and feeding was done, all of the humans went home to their families. There were no children to play with or table scraps to beg for at the shelter, although Annie snuck Shadow a roll on the following day.

  Two days after Christmas, everything at the shelter was already back to normal. Normal cleaning, normal walks, normal food. The staff went home shortly after dark, so Shadow settled into his bed and waited for sleep to come. He tried to fall asleep with the springy new ball in his mouth, but that turned out to make breathing difficult. Instead, he settled for nesting the ball in a heap of blankets, folding his paws over it, and resting his chin on top of the whole pile. Someone at the shelter had decided that such an old dog might need more blankets to stay warm, but Shadow just used them for extra padding. He would rather be too cold than too hot any day.

  Shortly after he settled into bed, the sound of a door opening told S
hadow that Annie had decided to visit. Suddenly, he wasn’t tired any more. Nighttime visits had become rare, but Shadow loved them all the same. When he rested his head on Annie’s lap and listened to her bedtime stories, he didn’t feel like he was in the shelter anymore. He felt like he was home.

  Shadow stood and limped to the front of his kennel. He listened to Annie’s familiar footsteps and her hushing of barking dogs until suddenly, she was there.

  “Hi, buddy!” Annie whispered as she slipped into the kennel. “How are you?”

  Shadow responded by licking the snow from Annie’s gloves, which made her laugh.

  “Come on, let’s go sit down.” Annie sat near the edge of Shadow’s bed, leaning her back against the wall. Shadow plopped down next to her and rested his chin on her leg.

  “I wanted to see you tonight.” Annie suddenly sounded tired, although Shadow wasn’t sure why. She had sounded that way a lot recently, her typical light and joy tempered by fatigue. It wasn’t the kind of tired that could be fixed by sleeping, but a weariness that comes from having your hopes dashed to pieces too many times. Shadow understood that feeling, but it didn’t make sense for Annie to be like that. He was old, but she was barely even out of her puppy years.

  “Tomorrow, it’s been a year since you first came here, buddy. For what it’s worth, it’s been the best year I’ve had working here. I’ve only been here for two, but you know.

  “I always tell Cam and Ollie about you when I go home, just like I tell you about them. I wish you three could have been friends. I’m so sorry. I tried talking to my landlord again, but I knew she wouldn’t allow it. And I called all around and asked everyone I know and it just…” she trailed off. Annie sounded ready to cry, but she managed to keep her voice level. “It just isn’t fair.”

  After a long pause, Annie said, “Hey, listen Shadow. Tomorrow you’re going to have to go see Anthony, okay? You remember Anthony, right?”

  Shadow looked up and used a hind leg to scratch his neck. Of course he knew Anthony. Had Annie forgotten that? She seemed upset about something, but Shadow couldn’t figure out what it was. Humans could be incredibly confusing at times. What was the big deal about going to see Anthony?

  “You’re going to have to be brave, okay buddy?”

  Shadow rested his head on Annie’s lap again and she put a hand on his neck, gently scratching his favorite spot. They waited in silence for a while, and Shadow was nearly asleep when Annie spoke again.

  “The snow’s really picking up out there. I guess we’ll have to make sure you get to go play in it on your walk tomorrow, huh? I wish I loved the snow the way you do, buddy. It looks like fun. I wonder what you were like as a puppy when you saw your first snow. Do you remember Penny, my dog I told you about? The one who thought she was a cat? She loved the snow almost as much as you. Her first snow was a big one, at least a foot deep. We let her outside to play in it, and it was almost like she was scared of it at first.”

  Annie laughed, and Shadow was glad that she seemed to have cheered up. Did he make her as happy as she made him? He certainly hoped so.

  “I guess it was almost up to her neck. But she got used to it. We even had to carry her back inside at the end of the day, otherwise I don’t think she ever would have come in. She bounded all over the yard, hopping as high as she could to get over the top of the snow. And every time she came up to a big drift, she’d attack it. Just take huge bites out of it until it was gone. And then she’d look at us, all proud of herself, like she’d saved us from some monster.

  “I bet you did something cute during your first snow, too. Is that true, buddy?” Annie ruffled the fur on top of Shadow’s head, but quickly smoothed it back out again.

  It took several moments for Shadow to conjure up the memory, but he had no intention of ever forgetting his first snow. He had gone out into the yard and barked excitedly at every snowflake that passed his face. He’d also managed to trip over his own paws and fall face-first into the snow at one point. Brian only got him inside again with promises of food, which no smart puppy would ever turn down.

  “Speaking of snow, did I tell you how I did in my race a few days ago? I don’t usually run races, but my sister wanted to and we’re only together a few days each year. For some reason, it’s way easier to run when Ollie’s pulling me down the sidewalk. Probably because he’s doing most of the forward moving, and I’m just trying not to fall.

  “Anyway, it was this 5k on Christmas morning. They called it the Christmas Classic. Creative, right? My goal was just to go the whole way without walking, but I actually ran pretty fast! I placed ninety-fifth, which doesn’t sound that good except there were four hundred people in the race, so I beat a lot of them! Pretty good, right? They had breakfast burritos at the finish line, but none of them were vegan so we just went to the store and bought a whole pack of blueberry bagels, three for each of us…”

  Shadow’s eyelids grew heavy and he eventually fell asleep, though he was aware of Annie’s voice in the background. He couldn’t remember exactly what time she left, only that when she did, she gently transferred his head from her lap to the bed and gave his nose a kiss.

  He didn’t see her again until late the next morning, when she appeared outside of his kennel with a leash. Instantly awake, Shadow stood and shook himself before the word walk even left Annie’s mouth. Very few things were more exciting than exploring fresh snow.

  Shadow limped all throughout the walk, but stiff joints would never stop him from playing in the snow. Every time he spotted a deep drift, he pulled against his leash until Annie followed. Then he’d plow through the drift with his chest, only stopping when the snow became too packed to push or when a laughing Annie pulled him back to the path.

  At a point that wasn’t very far from the shelter—maybe a few hundred yards—Shadow decided it was time to stop, knowing he’d be too tired if he pushed any farther. Annie knelt and scratched Shadow’s favorite spot, which felt absolutely delightful. He rolled onto his back and waited for Annie to scratch his belly, but instead she reached into her pocket and produced a roll. “Just for you, buddy!”

  The roll was flaky and soft, squishing between Shadow’s teeth like a much tastier version of his tennis ball. It was gone within seconds. When he finished, Annie stood.

  “Ready to go back?” she asked.

  Shadow answered by staring up at her with that open-mouthed smile, tongue flopping out of his mouth. Once they were inside again, Shadow waited patiently while Annie hung her coat and stomped off her boots. He shook the snow from his back, spraying a fine powder all over the floor. Little bits of snow stuck to Shadow’s collar even after he shook himself a second time, but he decided not to worry about them.

  Annie led him down the hall and into the adjacent hallway. When they walked right past the door that led to the kennels, Shadow gave Annie a questioning look. The layout of the building wasn’t exactly straightforward, and he wondered if Annie had gotten lost. Humans did that sometimes, since they lacked any kind of decent sense of smell.

  “It’s time for you to go see Anthony now,” Annie explained. She led Shadow around another corner, stopping in front of the doors to the vet’s room. Shadow was surprised to see Kim waiting there with Anthony, but the sight of her excited him all the same. She stepped forward, resting a hand on top of Shadow’s head.

  “I just wanted to say goodbye, Shadow. I wish I could take you. I’m sure we all wish we could. It was wonderful to know you.” She laughed. “I’m not going to forget that time you pulled me into a snowdrift, though! But really, you’re such a good dog.”

  She told him goodbye a second time and then disappeared around a corner in the hallway. Shadow wasn’t sure where Kim was going, but he hoped she’d have fun there, and was glad she came to say goodbye. It made him sad when people left without saying goodbye.

  Annie knelt in front of Shadow again, and he licked the tip of her nose. She laughed. “You’re so good, buddy. I’m going to miss you.”
/>   Shadow cocked his head, confused. Why was everyone telling him goodbye? Where were they all going?

  Annie’s hands found the sides of Shadow’s neck. Sighing, she pressed her forehead against his, just like she had on that rainy day so long ago. Something about the way she smelled told Shadow she was upset, but he couldn’t think of any reason why. By the time Annie pulled away again, tears had welled up in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry—” a sniffle interrupted her, and the tears spilled over. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. Guess that’s not the only thing I was wrong about, huh? I’m so sorry.

  “Listen buddy, I know I never got to take you home, but I want you to know you’re a part of my family. You’re one of my babies, just like Cam and Ollie.”

  Annie let out another shaky sigh and smoothed Shadow’s fur down. “You be good, okay Shadow? You’re a good boy. Don’t ever forget it.”

  She nodded at Anthony, who gave her a wan smile and took the leash. As Shadow followed Anthony into the vet’s room, he glanced back, suddenly worried he might never see Annie again. His friend stood alone in the hallway, arms crossed and eyes red. She met Shadow’s gaze and waved, forcing a weak smile. Then the door swung shut, and Annie was gone.

  Chapter 16

  “Alright, Shadow,” said Anthony in his slow, gentle voice.

  He wrapped his strong arms beneath Shadow’s body and hoisted him onto an exam table. At Anthony’s request, Shadow settled into a lying position. The metal surface of the table was cool against his side, but nothing like the cool of fresh snow. The table was a sterile, unfeeling sort of cool, like floor of a kennel after cleaning.

  The vet disappeared for a moment, but Shadow could hear him nearby, rummaging around in search of something. When he’d been younger, the thought of a vet searching for some tool out of sight would have been terrifying. He trusted them now though. Be still, cooperate, and it’ll be over soon.