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“Ha-ha,” Dad says. He’s got his construction shorts on, pockets heavy with gadgets he needs to fix the house. There’s always a screw that needs tightening. “You couldn’t resist bringing someone out with you?”
I run my fingers over the puppy’s soft head, and he snuggles into the crook of my arm. “Have you ever noticed how often I visit when you have a new litter?”
“Summer,” Mom says. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
I sink down on the chair next to Anthony and give her a wide smile. “Maybe.”
She laughs. “That’s my girl.”
“Good thing you like dogs,” Dad tells Anthony. “Would’ve been difficult to fit in with Summer if you didn’t.”
Anthony leans over my arm and runs a single finger over the soft fur on the puppy’s head. He receives a soft lick in return. “I met Summer and Ace at the same time,” he says. “I always knew it was a package deal.”
“Two for the price of one,” I say.
“Mhm. Both golden.”
The puppy in my arms wriggles, legs pushing against my arm. He crawls over to Anthony.
“Abandoned,” I say.
Anthony chuckles and watches the puppy settle against him, putting a hand over the dog’s back. It’s nearly the size of his curled-up body.
“She likes you,” Mom says.
“It’s a she?” Anthony asks.
“Mom can always tell,” I say. “Don’t ask me how she does it.”
She laughs. “Comes with the territory, I think. Not to mention seeing the puppies so often during their first few weeks. They look the same, but only in the way siblings look the same. There are little quirks that make it easy to pick them apart.”
Dad shakes his head. “She’s the only one who ever manages, by the way. To me, all goldens look alike until they’re adults, and even then, they’re similar.”
“How do you decide?” Anthony asks, still looking down at the puppy. “Which ones get adopted to loving families, and which ones will be trained by the Foundation?”
Mom’s voice is matter-of-fact, even if she glances my way. “Well, guide dogs need to have a particular temperament. Attentive, eager to learn, willing to work, and thriving on praise. After a few weeks with the pups, it’s easy to spot the two or three who exhibit those traits the most.”
“Hmm,” Anthony says, looking up at Mom. “How long do they go through training?”
“Well, we raise them as puppies, and when they’re young adults, they enroll in training at the Foundation for half a year.”
“Then they’re matched with their partners,” I say. “They’ll go through training together before they graduate.”
“They graduate together?” Anthony asks. His thumb moves in slow circles over the puppy’s golden fur.
“Yes,” Mom says, and this time, her voice is warm. “Clive and I have been there for every graduation the past eight years. Haven’t we?”
“We sure have,” Dad says. “Eleven of our dogs have become guide dogs.” There’s obvious pride in their voices, and I know Mom cries every single time she sees the dogs they’ve raised up on that stage, sitting by the companions they’ve come to love, and who love them in return.
“Is it something you’ve considered for the future?” Mom asks Anthony. “If you do, it would be a pleasure to find you a suitable dog in our litters.”
I hold my breath, but Anthony only nods. “I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’m not there yet, in terms of vision loss, but I will do it when I am.”
“You will?” I ask.
He nods, turning to look at me. There’s only warmth in his eyes. “Yeah. We already have Ace. What’s one more dog?”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Mom says. She stands and brushes off her jeans. “Anyone want some more lemonade? Clive?”
