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“We really only ever needed one,” Lark had told me in private one night. “But I wanted Myles to keep working with me, so I made him a manager too. But now, we really only need one manager and a shift lead for day and evening.”
“There you go. Thinking like a boss already,” I’d said, pulling her close.
She was healing.
Not without a shitload of grumbling, though. Which was actually cuter than it had a right to be and, apparently, characteristic of Lark.
“She’s a terrible patient,” Myles had informed me the day after the injury as I’d been making a tray to bring her up for breakfast.
“I don’t mind waiting on her,” I’d insisted.
And, truly, I hadn’t.
I’d never been in the position to wait on anyone before, to cater to their needs. I mean, aside from the animals. And I’d always liked doing it for them. I just hadn’t known how much I would like doing it for another person.
The person.
My person.
Each day that passed just made me more and more sure of it.
This was the woman who, despite only spending a few minutes with them since she was injured and they were leaving in the morning, and had bawled her eyes out about all the dogs going to the rescue.
She was the one who sat up all night with Lyle because he threw up once—after likely just eating something in the yard he shouldn’t have—because she was worried something might be wrong with him.
And, yes, she was the woman who shrieked for me in the middle of the night because Alma went into labor. Then held each puppy and cried after they were born.
Huge fucking heart.
And it was mine.
Well, mine and every animal’s that she ever met.
But I was okay sharing with them.
Somehow, during that week and a half, we also managed to have my trainer friend over to the house to evaluate Lyle. And after several days of working with him with all sorts of dogs and people, he concluded that he was safe. Except, maybe, when he sensed danger.
We were still cautious with him, never leaving him alone with the little dogs, and giving him some time to get to know my guys through gates before we tried to integrate. But, overall, things had gone well with him.
And now that the Locust Crew pretty much closed up shop, it was about time to get back to life.
Which included getting Myles and Lark back into their homes.
I wanted to get Lark into my life a little bit more, too. Spend some nights at the clubhouse, meet the guys and girls. But until Alma’s puppies were bigger, or even off to their forever homes, I understood why Lark didn’t want to keep moving her around or leaving her.
It would all happen.
Eventually.
And I was just going to sit back and enjoy the process.
Lark - 12 weeks
It was time.
I felt like I was going to throw up, but it was time.
See, Alma’s sweet little freaky super mutt babies that looked like a cross between a Pittie, a Husky, and a Basset Hound, had all gone off to their permanent homes.
