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"Why don't they get any of the dry stuff?" I finally ask, pointing to a wet only bowl.
"Some of the dogs don't have teeth, or have trouble swallowing. The wet food is easier for them to eat. And most of the dogs like it better, so I also give it to the ones that refuse to eat, or need to put on weight."
She hands me a spoon, showing me how to mix the kibble and wet food in the bowls. I get to work as I ponder her answer. "Most of the dogs I've seen will eat anything, anytime. Why won't these guys?"
Her movement slows and she rests her spoon on the side of the bowl she's stirring. "Because they've lost hope."
"Hope," I repeat dumbly, honestly confused by her answer.
She studies me, a look on her face I can't quite identify. "You haven't spent much time around animals have you?" When I shake my head, a corner of her mouth tips up. "They feel as much and as deeply as we do. Maybe more. They are pure souls, and sometimes, especially if they've come to me from...horrible circumstances, they've lost hope. Hope that there are kind people out there. Hope that they'll be loved. Hope they'll be treated with kindness. The aggressive ones I worry about less. Not all of them, but most of them still have spirit. They're still fighting. But the ones that lay in their cages, not reacting when you approach them, or cowering, those are the ones that break my heart."
"So what do you do?" I ask quietly.
"You love them. You talk softly, you give them a choice in how and when they want to be touched. But above all, you give them time." She picks up the spoon again. "They're not so different from traumatized people. They need time to heal." The way she glances at me makes it clear we're talking about Bree. "And they need people who will wait, as long as it takes, doing whatever it takes to show them you can be trusted. And if you do," she lifts a bowl, pressing it into my hands, "they'll give you everything."
Cadence's words ring through my head, circling and circling as I hand out bowls to the dogs. Most of them are barking, hopping, and generally looking like they don't have a care in the world. They're pure excitement, thrilled for their meal and I can't help but laugh.
I'm heading toward the last cage in the row, when Cadence puts a hand on my elbow, taking the bowl from me. "I'll handle this one," she says quietly.
I step back, watching as she slowly opens the gate, and lowers the food to the floor, talking softly, the words seemingly unimportant, the tone all that matters. I shift slightly so I can see past her to the dog in the crate. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a big battle scarred Pitbull? Anything but the most beautiful Golden Retriever I've ever seen. A deep rust color, she looks like she could be in movies, or commercials for the perfect American dog.
And when I look at her eyes, I see nothing. No spark of life. No anger, no sadness. Just nothing.
Feet glued to the floor, I wait for Cadence to come back out of the cage. I need to understand. Cadence's face is grim as she steps out, closing the gate behind her. The dog doesn't move, sitting in the corner, looking at nothing. She doesn't even twitch or look at the bowl of wet food. Cadence stares in, a sheen of moisture in her eyes. I can almost see her vibrating with the need to take care of the dog. To hold her.
I'm right there with her.
"What happened to her? Was she abused?" I ask quietly. The air between us feels heavy, oppressive.
"She was rescued from a puppy mill." I look at her, confused, and she explains. "She was kept in a small cage and bred over and over again. Look at her. She's stunning. Her puppies would be worth thousands."
My stomach drops, and I'm afraid I might puke out the donut I grabbed on the way over. "How long was she in there?"
"From what we know? Her whole life. She's around five or six now. She's probably had ten or more litters of puppies."
She had so many babies, and they were all taken away from her. That's bad. Even worse, she didn't get to go outside, or get treats, or pets, or all the other things that dogs deserve. "Is...is it okay if I sit here for a bit?" I can't leave this dog. I just can't.
Cadence studies my face, then nods. "Don't go in the gate. She doesn't know you."
I nod, waiting for her to walk away before sinking down in front of the gate. "Hey beautiful girl. Is it okay if I spend a little time with you? I promise I'm a good dude." She doesn't look at me, but the tiniest flicker of her ear tells me she's listening. It's enough. I've cracked tougher nuts.
18
BREE
I let myself in through the front door of the shelter and lock it right away. I've been coming here for months, and it's become one of my favorite places. I feel safe here in a way I don't in most of the world. I think it's because there's no possible way for someone to sneak up on me. No one could get past the dogs’ ears.
Cadence waves from the front desk, but doesn't look up from whatever she's studying. I circle around and peer over her shoulder, a soft gasp escaping as I catch the live video feed.
"How long has he been like that?" I ask in a whisper. I don't know why I'm whispering. It's not like he can hear me. The man lying on his stomach, one cheek resting on the back of his hand, the other one stretched forward, fingers resting through the chain link of Goldie's cage. Not the most original name for a Golden Retriever, but Cadence has a thing about not giving the dogs names until they show her who they are. And unfortunately, Goldie is totally shut down.
Or is she?
"Can you turn it up?"
Cadence hums and turns the dial on her decade old speakers and a sound I've never heard in the kennels hits my ears. Quiet. No barking, no high pitched whines. All the dogs, not just Goldie, are quiet, listening to Nick's hypnotic voice.
"I get it, beautiful girl. People are awful sometimes. I've seen it too. But there are good ones out there too. I know a bunch of good ones. There's my brother Maverick. He's so smart. He's a lawyer, and he helps us out of bad spots all the time. He's like a superhero but with a tie instead of a cape like superman. I like superman, but he's not my favorite superhero. I think I like Batman better."
