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twenty-one
Rhett was surprised to find that the dog rescue, full of dogs, didn’t smell like dogs. Sunny’s sanctuary smelled like pet food, old wood and dog shampoo. It was well made, clean and tidy.
“This is actually Roger’s place,” Stanzi explained. “He cares for all the dogs who don’t have foster families while we try to place them.” She nodded toward the closed doors, which must have been Roger’s bath and bedrooms.
Many of the dogs were out running the fenced-in grounds, but many remained inside. Most of them were pit bulls, and they all had their own personality, but seemed to share a sort of calmness Rhett wouldn’t expect of this setting.
Stanzi nodded toward a small white dog, balled on a pet bed in the corner. “Maltese,” she said. “Her name’s Willy.”
Rhett stepped closer. Willy pressed herself tighter into the corner. Ah. A sweet little thing. Her hair all silky white and her eyes doe-y behind her bangs. “What’s wrong with her?” Next to her bed was a small, stone statue of a man. On close inspection Rhett could see animals carved all around his robes.
Saint Francis.
Stanzi shrugged. “Hard to say. By the time Sunny gets them, they’re all kinds of ruined. Willy came from the puppy mill next door. Though—” she lowered her voice “—don’t tell anyone that.”
Despite the sadness of looking at a dog like Willy, and guessing at her past, Rhett didn’t worry for any of these dogs. They were like a collection of geeks at aStar Trekconvention—a bit misunderstood and left of center, probably picked on all their lives, but all the more interesting and colorful. Sunny wouldn’t give up on a single one of them. Rhett knew that, without having to be told.
“You help your sister with the rescue?” Rhett watched Fezzi hop around on his three legs, seeming to divide his time between overseeing the other dogs and following Stanzi wherever she went.
“I massage them,” Stanzi said, cocking her head to the side and smiling.
“Of course you do.” He still couldn’t believe how great he felt this morning. When he’d rolled over in bed, Stanzi had been gone, but he’d been able to get dressed without bracing his leg and felt almost pain-free. The best part was how his head felt, which was clear. Like he’d actually slept eight hours. He literally couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
“I name them, too.”
“Really?” He gestured to the Maltese. “Willy?”
Stanzi giggled. “You may not think it fits, but it does. Just get to know her, and you’ll see. She’s a Wilomena. Willy, for short.”
Rhett shook his head. “Now, Wilomena I can see. You come up with a nickname for me yet?”
Stanzi twisted her lips. “I’m still working on it.”
“And this guy.” Rhett petted Fezzi’s ears. “You said he was trained for your dad?”
Stanzi gave Fezzi a fond cock of her head. “Yeah. Like I told you, Daddy was legally deaf. Fezz was his ears and also his butler. He’d bring Dad his socks and other clothing items in the morning. Daddy was a different person when Fezzi came around. Calmer. More patient.”
A metal crate in the corner of the room caught Rhett’s eye. “Who’s that?” He pointed to the furry form that nestled silently inside the cage.
Stanzi followed his gesture. “Oh, him.” Her voice dropped a notch in timbre. “That’s Humphrey. The beagle.”
Humphrey.Thebeagle. Well, true. Rhett hadn’t seen another beagle here. He squatted down to get a better look, but only caught a flash of a droopy head. “Why’s he in a crate?”
“His choice. You see it’s not closed. He prefers being in there. Makes him feel protected, maybe. He’s been stuck in one all his life, so... Old habits are hard to break.”
Rhett peeked inside. Humphrey was all the way in the back, his head sagging.
“He can’t see very well,” Stanzi said. “His eyes got burned from all the ammonia in the urine that built up in the cage he was stuck in.” She nodded toward Willy, who’d fallen asleep in a white ball of fur on her dog bed. “Same people had Willy. Cruel, nasty woman.” Stanzi peered inside the crate at Humphrey, who hadn’t shifted an inch. “People come here and want to adopt. But some of these dogs are just too ruined, you know? No chance left. Humphrey, he stays in here most of the time because the other dogs smell his fear and mess with him and then he fights back. It gets ugly, and Humphrey is too small.”
Rhett leaned against the wall and slid down until his butt hit the floor. A few of the dogs came over to sniff him. He petted them and let them smell all around, until they moved off to do their own thing. “Hey, Humphrey.” He hoped the pathetic creature would look his way.
“I have to pull him out of there to massage him,” Stanzi said. “After I get him out, I go slow and then he’s okay. But then he rushes right back in the cage.”
“I’m just going to sit here,” Rhett said, even though he had no idea why. He wanted Humphrey to come out. That’s all he knew.
Stanzi smiled softly. “I’m going to go check on Sunny. She’s in a mad storm of cleaning up after her party. I’ll be back.”
Rhett waited until she was gone, then leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He was hoping to feel a little like he had last night, during Stanzi’s massage. That sense of letting go, of release, of connection. He stayed that way awhile, focused on his breathing.
