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fourteen
Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.
~Oscar Wilde
Tabitha didn’t think being herself was all that great, but the quote from her Journal of Invincibility kept running through her mind Saturday morning as she drove through the back roads that led to Pittie Place. Focusing on the quote was better than reliving what an abject failure her date with Thaddeus had been. When he’d been too busy for coffee yesterday morning he’d suggested evening drinks instead. Tabitha had tried her best—dressing up a little and hitting a bar midtown, which she hadn’t done in ages—but the noise had been too much and she’d been too nervous to drink or even focus on their conversation. The way Thaddeus had kept looking down at Trinity, with what seemed like a resentful expression, had made Tabitha squirm and she’d called it a night early. Thaddeus hadn’t texted since and she didn’t really expect him to.
The drive out was soothing to her frayed nerves. The old trees that flanked her on either side were ablaze with the colors of autumn and shot up to the sky. The sign for Pittie Place and Canine Warriors, where Trinity was from, popped up as Tabitha neared the turn that led into Sunny’s driveway. Sunny had been running Pittie Place, her dog rescue, for years, and her boyfriend, Pete, trained some of these rescues to become service dogs for wounded military veterans. Sunny had paved over some ground to create parking spaces for the people who rented out the cabins that surrounded the rescue, and Tabitha took one near the rear of the lot, preferring not to have anyone around her. It wasn’t that she was protective of her dumpy old car; she just liked a safety net of space, at all times.
Red’s last text had instructed Tabitha to meet her out back, which meant Tabitha had no excuse to knock on the front door of the beautiful Queen Anne that Sunny called home. Tabitha had always loved that house, with its turrets and fish-scale siding. She imagined Rapunzel living inside one of those towers, throwing out her long hair to be climbed by the intrepid prince.
Trinity wagged her tail and quickened her pace as she caught the scent of Pittie Place. “You remember, don’t you?” Tabitha stroked along her back and felt a sense of calm that she rarely got anywhere else on earth. Something about Pittie Place made both canine and human feel instantly at home.
She went around back, as Red had instructed, and picked her way along the path until she got to the gate. Trinity sat and waited patiently, but her ears were perked and a smile was plastered all over her face, if that was possible. Tabitha undid the latch and pressed inside. Roger, who had been the caretaker here as long as Tabitha could remember, had his own cabin, which sat in the center of the grounds, rebuilt and looking sturdy and fresh after the treacherous fire that had almost taken it out a year and a half ago.
“Hey, Tabs!” Sunny waved from afar, over near the Puppy Pit, which was what she’d recently dubbed her playground for the youngest rescues. The pit, a large fenced-in area to play, reminded Tabitha of a gymnastics room, with all its various delights, such as a plastic tunnel, toys hanging from beams for the puppies to try to catch and, in warmer weather, a kiddie pool full of water.
Sunny wore a pair of blue jeans and a light windbreaker and was watching a brood of about a dozen puppies run, roll and leap at the toys and each other. Red was next to her, the two of them laughing and talking over cups of take-out coffee. “Hey there,” Red greeted her, and snuggled deeper into her Semper Fit hoodie. Tabitha guessed it might’ve even been Rhett’s hoodie because Red was drowning in it, the hem going all the way to her knees.
“What do we have here?” Tabitha peeked in at the puppies. They were small but had big paws, like they had a lot of growing to do. Their fur was short and straight, some brown, some black and brown mixed. Trinity sat next to the chain-link fence and watched, her front feet shifting and tapping like she wanted to play, too.
“This is theStar Treklitter,” Sunny said with a grin. “Probably Lab with shepherd mixed in. There’s Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Crusher, Sulu and Cumby. Lily named them. She comes here about once a week. She’s my official shelter liaison. You’d never know that kid is only sixteen.”
“Right?” Red added. “Sixteen going on thirty, more like.”
Tabitha watched the pups a moment, wild and free and rolling with abandon. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Cumby? I don’t recall a Cumby inStar Trek.”
“Benedict Cumberbatch,” Sunny said. “Took us a minute, too. He starred in one of theStar Trekmovies. Lily insisted, because Cumby is smart, independent and handsome.” Sunny pointed out the puppy, who was up on his hind legs, using his front paws to grasp one of the dangling bones. A second later the whole contraption, made of interconnected PVC pipes, came toppling down. The puppies squeaked and ran, and Cumby did a somersault and ended up on his furry butt. Despite all the laughter, the puppy stood, shook himself and dived after the bone he’d worked so hard to get. It was still connected to the toppled contraption by a piece of leather, but now that it was on the ground, Cumby settled down, collected the bone in his paws and started gnawing on it.
“Clearly Lily was right,” Tabitha said.
“Let’s go in the house,” Red said as Sunny went inside the fence to fix the wrecked toy.
Tabitha followed her toward the Queen Anne, excited to be able to go in the beautiful house that Sunny had said her father helped her restore before his passing.
“A mother dog came in yesterday.” Red spoke as they walked. “Along with those pups. Those aren’t her pups, though. Hers are still...” Constance rubbed her midsection. “We don’t have a lot of backstory, but we both agree that this poor mother has been bred over and over. She’s exhausted.”
They entered the house through the lower level, which was a large, open area that had a bar and what could be a dance floor. Tabitha had heard Sunny threw a mean Christmas party for donors to the rescue and she had a feeling this might be where they celebrated. Red led her upstairs, through a grand kitchen with stainless-steel appliances and a large, granite-topped island and into a more casual, relaxed family room. There was a leather chair with ottoman and a matching sofa, both tossed with clean, well-loved quilts, and a television mounted on the wall. Tabitha could easily picture Sunny here, unwinding after a long day, probably with Pete by her side.
“There she is.” Red approached the corner on the other side of the leather chair and that was when Tabitha saw the mother dog. Curled on a dog bed in the peace and quiet of the house was what looked like a pit bull with a copper-colored coat, red nose, eyes and nails. Her midsection was heavy with pups, but her ribs were still more visible than they should have been. She only blinked at them as they approached. “This is Candy,” Red said. “She kind of looks like a candy apple, don’t you think?”
“She is all red,” Tabitha agreed. “And seems very sweet.”
“The vet says she’s healthy, though underfed. We’re trying to rectify that before the pups come.” Red sank down next to the dog and raised a palm over her back. She paused, without touching her. “As you know, I massage a lot of the dogs. But most of my massages start this way.” Red’s voice was low and careful.
“You get her used to you being nearby first,” Tabitha acknowledged. “Just being in her space will be cause for anxiety. You can’t just plop your hands down on her and start rubbing.” Tabitha noted that the dog’s rib cage expanded and collapsed at a quicker pace now that they were so close.
“Exactly.” Red smiled softly. “Here.” She scooted away. “You do it.”
“What? Me?” Tabitha noted that Trinity had stayed at the opposite end of the room, flopped on the floor near the entryway. Even she sensed that Candy wouldn’t appreciate a crowd.
“Of course you.” Red smiled and scooted back on her bottom until her spot near Candy had been freed up for Tabitha. “Why do you think I wanted you to come over?”
Any anxiety that Tabitha would’ve normally felt by having a surprise massage lesson sprung on her was completely absent in the face of the client being a dog. It wasn’t that she thought dogs would be easier—quite the contrary, as dogs couldn’t communicate in the same way as humans. She just felt more comfortable around them, more in her element, more needed. Because of her relationship with Trinity, and the long months of training, Tabitha felt like she understood dogs. She couldn’t say the same about humans.
Tabitha settled next to Candy and closed her eyes. The air was heavy, ragged, worn. Tabitha found it harder to breathe, but then used a trick that often worked for panic attacks: she focused on expanding her rib cage from the bottom up and slowing her inhalations. She waited until the air had lightened and her throat had loosened before she opened her eyes again. Her hand was resting on the dog’s back, but she didn’t remember putting it there.
Candy hadn’t flinched. She’d laid her head back down and closed her eyes. The rapid breathing from when Red was near had calmed. Tabitha tested running her palm down Candy’s spine, to her haunches. The dog’s muscles jumped under Tabitha’s hand, but it was involuntary twitching, not flinching.
