Page 43 of Lift Me Up

“Actually, Howie got adopted yesterday. We’ve got the one open spot now, hence the adoption and foster drive we’re running. You are aware of Birdie’s… circumstances, right?”

“Yes, Noah showed me her medications and creams and everything. I administer them every time I’m here.”

“Doesn’t she chew your head off when she has to take her pills?”

“No, I just talk her through it, and she takes it in a pill pocket treat… Is that not something that happens with everyone else?”

Mary adjusts her glasses and laughs, “Not at all. She must really like you.”

“I think we just get each other.” I rub the back of my neck, glancing down the hall. I point. “I guess I better get back to Fran, and then get Birdie ready.”

“See you soon,” Mary singsongs.

“Oh, hey, Mary?” She looks up again, her glasses chain swaying from the movement. “Can we… not tell Noah that it was me that took Birdie? I want it to be a surprise.”

“Sure thing, sugar. Your secret’s safe with me.” She winks and sends me on my way.

“So, did you pick one?” I clap my hands when I enter the boardroom. Franny jumps and shrugs.

“I think I’ll have to see them before I decide.”

“Right this way, then.”

I show her to the kennels. With each one, she passes and smiles and waves at the dogs but doesn’t stop to gain their attention. That is until⁠—

“Who is this heckin’ handsome man?” She asks softly, kneeling in front of the plexiglass door between her and Bennie.

I don’t want to say I called it, but I totally called it. Bennie sits patiently by the plexiglass door, waiting for attention. His chocolate brown eyes melt when he sees us, hopeful and tail wagging as he realizes she’s there to see him.

I grin and crouch with her, “This is Bennie. Benford, Bendy Boy, you name it, he’s probably had the nickname. He’s newer to PPP, and he’s a brindle pittie mix. He came in from a neglect situation, but as you can see this big lug head just wants love.”

He licks her fingers through the door, not at all phased but the fact that he’s hitting his nose against the plastic glass door with each lick. Franny smiles. “Hey Bennie.”

“Would you like to go in and meet him?” I offer.

“I think so. You know, you’re really good here, G.” Franny stands, waiting for me to open the door with the volunteer’s key.

“I only do what Noah’s taught me. He’s…”

“Made an impact? Changed you for the better? Stolen your heart?” She gives me that knowing look.

She is correct in every comment, but I won’t tell her that. Because then I am admitting that I am far deeper in than I ever anticipated this going.

“I’ll let you two get acquainted, then we can go for a W. A. L. K.”

I watch as Franny hesitantly walks into the kennel with Bennie. She’s not afraid of him, I know that. She’s afraid of getting attached. She’s afraid of not being enough. She’s feeling every possible emotion I felt about Birdie until I realized that adorable dog needs me until she finds her forever home.

By the time I shut the plexiglass door behind her, she’s already being attacked with kisses and love from Bennie and I know everything is going to go exactly as I planned it.

What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

GEORGIE

The answer is everything. Everything could go wrong. Not that it does, but it could go wrong, and that absolutely terrifies me. What if I mess up somehow? What if I don’t give Birdie her meds correctly? What if I do something that messes with her chance at getting adopted? Mary reassured me that there was very little I could do to mess this up, and the excitement outweighed the fear, but there was always that insistent nagging at the back of my mind.

Birdie is just as sweet and as perfect as she is every other time I see her. She’s gentle and patient with me as I give her the medications, dress her skin and her paws in her creams for her skin condition, and she peppers my face in kisses the second she sees the harness and leash because she knows it means we’re breaking her out of this place. She doesn’t realize yet that this is for a good while, that she won't be coming back to this sad-looking kennel with that sad little face.