Page 42 of Lift Me Up

“George, what the hell did you sign me up for?”

“Fran, they’re desperate. I come here with Noah all the time and⁠—”

She crosses her arms, “Is this an attempt to impress him?”

“No, it’s an attempt to have a reason to get up in the morning besides going to work. We’re going to be helping these babies find homes, Fran. Please? You heard Mary, we’re both approved as foster homes.”

“How? They never even met me; they don’t know my house⁠—”

“About that…”

“George.” Franny warns.

I sigh. “I may’ve let Mary into your apartment for the house check. They run background checks on everyone, and this is your trial to see how you gel with the pups. Please Fran, for me?”

“I don’t have time,” she deflects.

“Make the time.” I urge her, “Just, think about it. Come meet some of the dogs, and if you don’t feel anything afterward, then you wait until the right one comes along. But at least leave your foot in the door.”

Though skeptical, Franny glances at the board of fosters. I know who I want her to check out, but I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for. I scan the board for my foster⁠—

“Weird.”

“What is it?”

“The dog that I’ve wanted to get out of here for a while isn’t on this list. Hold on, I’ll be right back. Keep looking!” I shout the last part over my shoulder, walking down the hall.

“Mary,” I say so I don’t startle her as I walk up to the main desk. The yellowing linoleum squeaks underfoot, and Mary looks up from her busy typing to greet me with her famous friendly smile.

“How goes the foster find?”

“Well, I think I’ve convinced her that this is a good thing for her. I told you it might be tricky,”

She nods and laughs to herself. “Sometimes all it takes is a subtle push, and sometimes it takes a complete shove off the cliff,”

“But when I looked at the board, I noticed that Birdie is not up there. She’s not on the adoptable list either. So, what’s happening? Did she get adopted or⁠—”

“No, she’s been taken off the lists because we’re trying to figure out what to do. None of the fosters or adopters have been working. She’s sad wherever she goes, but she’s less sad here. I suppose until we find the right person for her-”

“I want her.”

“Are you sure?” Mary seems hesitant, her hands twisting her greying hair. Despite the hesitancy, there’s a small glimmer of hope in her eyes that tells me she hasn’t given up.

“Absolutely. She was the one I wanted to foster when I signed up; I was kind of devastated when I saw she wasn’t up there,”

“Well, she does absolutely love you and Noah,”

“Oh, Noah and I don’t live together we—we’re just—we aren’t⁠—”

She grins. “I know a connection when I see it. I’ve never seen that boy bring anyone in here, and he’s volunteered here since high school. This place is his second home. And yet here you are.”

I blush, trying to change the subject by clearing my throat and then pointing. “So does this mean I am approved for her?”

“Absolutely. I’ll draft the paperwork now, and let me know when Franny has decided. If you ask me, I think she’d be great for⁠—”

“Bennie,” we say at the same time. The laugh is instantaneous between the two of us. It really is true when they say that the dog picks their person, but sometimes it’s as obvious as the sky being blue which person is meant for which dog.

“I’ll show her to his kennel, he’s beside Howie, right?”