9 Letters (3 page)

I had to admit I was warming up
to the idea, though. Wouldn’t hurt to go visit the rescue,
anyhow.

I wasn’t doing it because
Emily told me to. And I wasn’t even sure I was going to bring
home a dog. I just wasn’t doing anything else that day anyway.
Couldn’t hurt, just to see.

The animal shelter was out on the
edge of town, in a half-abandoned mess of strip malls. It was one of
the first warm days of spring, and I unbuttoned my flannel on my way
across the parking lot.

I walked in looking bewildered,
and the elderly woman standing behind the adoption counter could tell
easily enough I had no idea what I was doing. She was just finishing
up with a family, then called me over.

The family left, their little
girl holding the leash to some kind of handsome mutt. The parents
were beaming, the girl was smiling a gap-toothed smile, even the mutt
had a grin plastered to his shaggy face. Damned if I wasn’t
smiling too.

“What can I help you with?”
the woman at the counter asked.

“I don’t know,”
I said.

“You’re looking to
adopt?”

“I might at some point,”
I said. “Today I guess I’m just looking.”

“Dog? Cat?”

“Dog. But I’m only
looking.”

“Just looking, huh? I’ve
heard that one before.” She gave me a knowing nod. “Head
on back, then. A volunteer will help you out. Hope you find one to
fall in love with.”

Her words threw me, and I felt my
defenses kick back into gear. “Thanks,” I said.

For a moment I hesitated. Maybe
this was a bad idea. Maybe I should just leave before I ended up too
guilt-tripped to head home without one of these furry orphans. It
wasn’t like a pet could ever replace Emily, could make the pain
go away.

But damn if I didn’t want
to read her next letter. See what else she’d cooked up for me.
And I’d never betray her memory by cheating, and she’d
have known it, too. Alright, Em. You won this round.

Swinging doors took me into the
shelter itself, a long hallway full of roomy, glass-doored stalls,
each with its own dog. Some were napping, some gnawed at tennis balls
or chew toys. Some just barked.

I found myself looking through
the glass at some kind of long-haired collie mix, her tail wagging
slowly as I eyed her, and it wasn’t hard to see her coming home
with me. It wasn’t hard to picture putting up a fence, playing
ball with her in the yard. Did collies like playing ball?

“What can I do for you
today?”

I heard the woman before I saw
her. She had a nice voice. A real nice voice, all melodic and full of
charm. Then I turned, and I saw her full on, and it wasn’t just
her voice that was nice.

“I’m Rae,” she
said, sticking out her hand.

She was in a light blue sweater
and tight blue jeans. Strawberry blonde hair pulled back, a spray of
freckles across her nose, eyes as green as a summer field.

“Luke,” I said. We
shook, and her friendly demeanor warmed me.

“What kind of dog are you
looking for?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t know.
Not even sure I’m sure about looking.”

“Is that so?” She
grinned, and I noticed the dimple high up on her cheek. “How
about we just walk along and look at some of them while you tell me
about what you need in a dog.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’m
a pretty good matchmaker.”

I paused. “What do you
mean?”

“For starters, how much
room do you have?” She gestured for me to follow her, and I
did.

“A house,” I said.
“With a decent yard, a few solid oaks in the back. They make
good shade in the summer.” Christ, I was babbling now. What’d
gotten into me? We walked past a few Chihuahuas without stopping, and
I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. No yappy dogs for me.

“Sounds nice. Children?”
Rae continued.

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“And how long are you going
to have to leave it at home, and how often?”

“I don’t know, about
ten hours, four times a week? I work nights sometimes.”

She nodded, taking notes. Her
nails were painted a copper gold that matched her hair, and her lips
were pouty when she looked down at the paper.

“You said you’re not
even sure you’re looking to get a dog?” she asked.

“Yeah, just…thinking
about it.”

“So you’re in here
wasting my time?”

“What?” I asked,
caught off-guard.

“Just walking around
teasing these poor ol’ dogs, making their little hearts go
pitter-pat…” she gave me a sly smile.

“I’m not teasing!”

“I am, though,” she
said. She put her hand on my shoulder for a moment and I looked at
that dimple, and when our eyes met it was like all the tension just
melted out of me, right there on the floor of the animal shelter.
“Come on, you big tease. Let’s have a look at the
inmates.”

The moment passed, and we resumed
walking down the hall.

Some of those dogs, they looked
downright mean. Which might have meant they were mean, it might have
meant they were scared, it might have meant they were sad. Maybe all
three. But most of them looked content with their lot in life. They
felt safe. I wondered if they knew that they weren’t. But I
guess you don’t call it “rescue” unless you’re
saving someone. Then again, it was more likely that I was the one in
need of saving.

“Do you like big dogs?
Medium dogs? Small dogs?” There was a little black pug in the
cage closest to us.

“Medium dogs, I guess.
Maybe big.”

A grin flashed across her face
for half a second and she opened the cage door. The pug ran straight
at me, hit my leg, started pawing at it and yipping. His goofy smile
took up near half his face.

The little dog was adorable. Not
what I wanted, but adorable. Then I remembered Emily’s letter
and I started laughing.

“He makes you laugh?”
Rae asked.

“No, it’s just...”
I was all set to explain the whole thing, then decided I didn’t
want to. “It’s just funny. He’s mighty excitable.”

“Yep, he can be a bit much.
Alright, Oliver,” Rae said. “Stop bothering the man.”
She scooched him back into his cage and kept walking. It seemed like
all the dogs would calm down as Rae walked by, quiet their barking or
quit tussling with their cellmates. Guess you could say she had a way
about her.

“Have you had dogs before?”
she asked, her ponytail bouncing as she walked.

I found myself grinning at the
memory. “Two, when I was growing up. German shepherds, both
from the same litter. My brother named them Rocky and Adrien, and we
called all ourselves the ‘dog pack.’ Used to have frisbee
wars and feed ‘em bacon under the table.”

“That’s cute,”
Rae smiled. “You think you might want two dogs again?”

I laughed. “One’s
enough for me.” Or none. Unless she’d somehow already
convinced me to bring one of these mutts home. Jedi mind tricks.

“Don’t like to spread
your love too thin, huh? I know your type.”

She was being playful, flirting
with me. I’m about as dense as they get, but I caught on. Rae
was maybe the most beautiful woman I’d seen in months, and
there she was flirting with me.

We stopped in front of a beagle’s
cage next, and Rae opened the door. “C’mon out, girl,”
she coaxed. The dog came out, paced around my legs, and looked up at
me.

“Hey there, beagle mutt,”
I said. I squatted down and pet her. She let me, but she was
indifferent, and seemed more interested in staring up at Rae with
eyes of love than in bonding with me. Well, alright. No skin off my
nose.

“Do you live alone?”
Rae asked, as she escorted the beagle back into its cage.

Rae was standing awful close to
me and I realized how much I liked her standing close to me. It
wasn’t like it was with Maggie, it wasn’t pure animal
lust. It was just warm, comfortable, reassuring. I didn’t want
to think about Em. Instead of answering, I shrugged.

“No girlfriend or
anything?”

“My wife died a year ago,”
I said. It’s like slamming a gate down, that sentence. But I
needed to be guarded, just then.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,”
Rae said. “I hate to hear it.” Her hand was back on my
shoulder, and I realized there wasn’t an ounce of pity in her
voice. I appreciated that.

“Yeah. So. I’m not
sure I really need a dog right now,” I added. I also didn’t
need a beautiful woman flirting with me.

“Alright. Well I’m
not telling you that you need a dog or don’t need a dog,”
Rae said, “but I think it takes someone with a pretty big heart
to be down here thinking about rescuing one. Especially someone like
you, someone who’s unsure if they’d make a good dog
parent. A hell of a lot of heart. Why don’t you give it some
time, think it over some more? And for now we’ll just go ahead
and get you back to the lobby, then.”

She led the way through the maze.
I relaxed a little bit. Just a little bit.

As we headed back through, I
tried to keep my eyes off the dogs. No sense in getting any hopes up;
I couldn’t bear the guilt. As we reached the end of the hall
though, there was a dog curled up against the glass with his belly
out and his long ears splayed across the floor. I recognized the way
his eyes turned down, the droopy jowls, the wrinkled brow. A
bloodhound, two years old at most. Our eyes met and I couldn’t
help but smile. That bloodhound, he looked interested, like maybe
he’d like to meet me. But he also didn’t look like he
needed me. On the tag by the door, it said his name was King. My feet
stopped.

“His name is King?” I
asked. “Like Elvis?”

“Huh?” Rae froze in
her tracks and turned around. When she saw me standing by King’s
door, she grinned. That off-kilter dimple I’d liked so much was
back. “Oh, yeah. Sure is. ‘Cause he ain’t nothin’
but a hound dog, get it? He’s a good boy, aren’t ya,
boy?”

King was up now, his eyes darting
between me and Rae, his tail giving a few cautious wags. Rae opened
the door and stepped aside for the big dog. He didn’t bound
out, covering me with excitement. Instead he just eyed me lazily,
then ambled out into the hall like a happy drunk leaving the bar.
Like he had all the time in the world. He gave me a sniff, and I
squatted down, reached out and pet him between his shoulder blades.

“He doesn’t like
everyone,” Rae said.

“Is that so?” I
stayed crouched while King stuck his snout up at my face, and I let
him sniff me with his cold, wet nose. Then he set his chin on my
shoulder and promptly drooled on me. Rae giggled.

“But he likes you.”

Well, shit. All of a sudden I
felt like a heel, wasting that poor dog’s time, wasting poor
Rae’s time. I hadn’t really come here to get a dog, after
all. But that look on her face…like I was some kind of hero,
letting this dumb dog drool all over me. Couldn’t hurt to ask a
few questions.

“How old is he?”

“He’s almost three.”

“And his last owners?”

She looked away for a moment, the
first time I’d seen her hesitate so far. “It’s a
sad story, actually. He had a nice family, just outside of town, two
kids. But dad got in a wreck and the two kids didn’t make it.
Dad was on life support for a couple months. Parents stayed
together—I barely know how—but they just couldn’t
look at King without seeing their kids, so they brought him here. To
be honest, we’ve had a hard time finding him a home. He’s
great, most of the time, but he gets withdrawn and isn’t much
for playing. He’s been through a lot for a three year old and
he’s definitely no puppy anymore. You ask me, he just needs
some TLC. Someone who won’t mind his quiet spells.”

“I’ll take him,”
I said. I didn’t even think about it. I probably should have.
But some things don’t take thinking, they just take doing.

“Let’s you and me
take him outside first,” Rae said. “Go for a short walk
with him. Size each other up.”

I humored her, but I was just
humoring her. If I needed a dog, and maybe I did, then King was the
dog for me.

There was a small fenced-in yard
out behind the shelter, the kind of little spot of nature you’d
never expect out among the strip malls but are all over the place if
you take the time to look. King had a routine out there, and he
walked with his bloodhound nose to the ground, following scents as
they zig-zagged around the yard. He stopped to pee on pretty much
everything. There must have been a lot of competition for that
territory.

He ignored me in peace, and I let
him do his thing. Then he came over and sat and looked up with his
brows knotted, like he was asking me some kind of question, and I
gave him another pat. His tail wagged once, twice, and then beat the
ground in a steady thump. If I didn’t know any better, I might
even think he was smiling at me.

Sure. A big, low-key dog. He was
probably going to drool all over everything I owned. But that kind of
thing never really bothered me, not any more than getting dirty on
the job did.

“Yup,” I said. “He’s
the one.”

“He does seem to respect
you,” Rae said. “Which is half the work of training him,
right there.”

“I’ll take him.”

But when we got to the front desk
and I was filling out the forms, I started actually thinking it
through. A dog is a lot of work. You can’t let them down. You
can’t skip days. Emily and I hadn’t even been sure we
were ready for a dog, and there’d been two of us.

“Do you have dog bowls?”
Rae asked. I was glad she’d come up to the front with me. The
other woman was nowhere in sight. One less person to admit to that I
had no idea what I was doing and probably wasn’t fit to care
for the poor beast.

“No,” I said.

“Leash? Harness? Collar?”

I was having second thoughts. It
must have crossed my face, because Rae picked up on it and flashed me
a reassuring grin.

“Look, we’ll sell you
everything you need, we have it all right here. He’s had all
his shots, he’s fixed, so that’s taken care of. And
here’s some information to take with you, everything you need
to know about what to feed him, all of that.”