Page 27 of Lift Me Up

“Almost a year.”

“What? Why?”

He rubs the back of his neck, “Like I said, she takes a while to warm up to people. We’ve tried everything. She gets judged because she’s a pittie mix, so that deters a lot of people right off the bat. But then those that are interested usually don’t stick. She gets more and more sad the longer she’s here. She’d just start warming up to someone, or get used to someone coming to visit her, and then they go with a different dog, or they take her home for a trial period and then… well.” He gestures to her as if to say, ‘she ends up back here’.

“I can’t imagine why,” I say thoughtfully to myself, giving her head a gentle scritch. Her eyes open and then close again with another sigh of acceptance.

“She’s also a special needs dog, Georgie. She requires extra attention that most people just don’t have time to give. She has Pemphigus Foliaceus.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

He explains to me what PF is, and I feel like I could cry. Birdie is just like me. An autoimmune condition that presents as a skin condition, causing painful sores and scarring. Hers was likely triggered by the inattention she faced in her life prior to Pawsitive Passion, but it’s a chronic incurable illness. Just like me. I have never felt closer to someone or something in my life. I feel the scars under my hand as I pet her, noticing the sores on her ears, her nose, on her belly when she rolls over to get more comfy.

“Why haven’t you adopted her?” I wonder out loud.

“Can’t have dogs in my apartment. She’s a little too big to hide in a backpack. Believe me if I could, I’d take her in a heartbeat.” I don’t doubt that. Noah loves Birdie, you can tell. I’m certain I am in love with her too.

“Does she like walks?”

At the mention of that magic word, Birdie’s eyes open, her ears perk up and they’re so cute I almost die. Her ears stick up straight when she’s excited or curious or happy. I like to think she’s all of the above.

“I will take that as a yes.” I say with a laugh and kiss her cute face. When I turn to see Noah watching, he’s the happiest I have ever seen him.

“What?”

“I told you you were a dog person.” He teases.

I roll my eyes. “I am a Birdie person.”

He hums, standing from the floor and then reaching down to help me up.

“I think I am a Georgie person.” He comments softly, squeezing my hand once before leaving the kennel to get a leash for Birdie and I am left standing here speechless.

I look down at Birdie, who watches the door patiently for his return, her tail wiggling just a bit.

“What was that?” I ask out loud, and she just sits and looks as if to say, ‘are you asking me?’

She hears Noah’s humming down the hall and looks to me again my favourite human is coming back, can you hear him? “You like him too, don’t you?”

She huffs at me, tongue lolled out and then she yawns. I nod in agreement and scritch her gently.

“I think he’s becoming my favourite person too.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

GEORGIE

If I thought Noah was an impossibly perfect person before, seeing him here and interacting with all the dogs confirms that even more. This man is a gentle giant, like a little kid as he runs around and plays literal football with the rescues in the outdoor area. Birdie and I watch from the sidelines in the shaded area like the classy ladies we are, and I realize just how connected I already feel to her.

He comes to settle in the shade after a while, and he lays across the platform where we’re sitting, settling his head in my lap.

Birdie leans down to give him a nose kiss and he smiles up at me. “So, what do you think of my favourite place?”

“You never told me you were bringing me to your favourite place.” I feel the blush creep into my cheeks.

“Well.” he shrugs, unsure what to say.

He closes his eyes and I take him in. His eyelashes are impossibly long and dark against his cheeks. I look at Birdie, who looks at me with her sad little face, then rests her head back on Noah’s chest like this is how it’s meant to be. I only realize I’ve been absentmindedly carding my fingers through his soft, fluffy golden bronze hair when the man makes the prettiest noise I have ever heard in my life, a cross between a gasp and a sigh and a whimper. Not the painful kind either, the kind of whimper that flutters the butterflies in your belly and… other places.