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There was a black and gray dog with wiry hair that snarled at me through the bars, a tiny dog with bulging eyes that ran around in excited circles as I passed, and a few big, curly haired dogs that stood there and watched me with their tongues out.
It was sad. It was all so unbearably sad.
I walked quickly to the end of the row because I didn’t want to distract Rhys from his puppy. He was playing with it, and it was running around his ankles. They were perfect together.
The last cage was empty, so I crouched down in front of it to get my shit together. Rhys would love that puppy. We’d take it on walks, and it would run around the house destroying furniture, and we’d laugh and occasionally yell. It would get bigger, and when we were out people would ooh and aah over Rhys and his matching dog. I would love them both. I could picture it.
Movement in the cage I’d thought was empty drew my eye. The dog was hidden in the very back corner under a pile of crumpled newspapers.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Who are you?”
It nosed toward me a little, and I hooked my fingers in the cage so it could smell me. The paper fell away, and the dog inched slowly toward me, sniffing. The second I waggled my fingers, it froze.
“Aw, buddy. It’s okay.”
I left my fingers there and sat for a few minutes. The dog came a little closer. I slowly unhooked the door and sat in front of it, still outside the cage. I hummed and looked around at other dogs, and as I pretended not to pay attention, the dog came closer.
It was brown and white and medium-sized. One of its ears stood up, and the other was half torn away. Its eyes were sad, but the shape of its mouth looked like it was smiling. It looked a little lopsided.
“You’re a mess,” I whispered to the dog, and it dropped its chin on my knee with a resigned huff. “Yeah, I know.” I slowly stroked its head and then down its trembling back. I could feel it relax as I touched it. I patted it gently and felt little patches of rough fur on its side, like cigarette burns in synthetic carpet. “What happened to you?”
“I see you met our newest arrival!” The woman’s voice rang out in the echoey room and the dog tensed at the sound. She was talking to Rhys. “Yellow Lab, about two months old. She just arrived last night. Someone found her running around. Probably got away from a litter on a nearby farm. She’ll be snapped up quick, so you’re lucky you found her. What do you think?”
“She’s awesome,” he said, grinning.
Rhys looked around for me, and when he saw me, he closed the door of the puppy’s cage and walked over, the woman following him.
“You made a friend, huh?”
The dog lifted its chin from my knee just enough to look up at Rhys. I could feel it start to tremble.
I reached up for his hand and tugged him down so he was crouching behind me. Rhys balanced with his hands on my shoulders.
“That guy’s been with us awhile,” the woman said. “Dropped off about a month ago. We think he’s six or seven. He’s a bit of a fraidy cat with people. Usually hides when folks come through. He’s a fighter, as you can see. Looks like he warmed up to you, though. You guys just come grab me when you’re ready.”
“You want that puppy, huh?”
“She’s adorable,” he said. “But I want you to pick.”
We stayed like that for a minute, then Rhys reached down and put his hand over mine on the dog’s back. He closed his eyes.
“Rhys, someone else is gonna take the puppy. She’ll get adopted, probably later today. Everyone wants puppies.” The dog let out a whuffling breath. He knew the score. “No one’s gonna want this guy. He’s all busted up and scared, and he hides, and people won’t take the time to try and make him feel safe, and—” I shook my head. “He needs us.”
Rhys kissed the top of my head.
“Well, that’s that, then,” he said. “You stay with him, and I’ll go tell that lady. Hey.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “We have a dog.”
* * *
—
We did have a dog, and he had the strangest walk I’d ever seen. He kind of slunk sideways, paws crossing diagonally as he sniffed at things. Rhys thought it was hilarious and suggested we call him Diagonal. I glared at him.
“Well, he needs a name,” Rhys said. We’d kicked a few around on the drive home from the shelter the day before, but we couldn’t decide.
“What if he already has a name and he just can’t tell us what it is?”
