Remi
For once, the dogs behaved. Scout might have lingered a bit too long at the spot where Edgar had peed right before him, and had to squat in the exact same spot three times, but he finally came when I called his name.
I took one last loop through the building, double-checking water bowls and bed setups. I stopped by the supply closet in the kennel room and snagged one of the new fleece blankets from the top of the stack, then slipped into Bandit’s kennel.
He was sitting in the corner, his blue eyes watchful and his body language relaxed as I added a second blanket to his bed.
“Don’t tell the others, because they’ll think I’m playing favorites.” I’d watched him on the camera earlier and noticed that he liked to burrow into the blanket. I bunched the new one up alongside the other to create a little blanket barrier.
His head tilted slightly when I was finished.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Bandit blinked.
“I’ll take that as approval.”
Because we’d gotten through the evening routine fairly quickly and I had a little extra time, I slid down against the wall of his kennel and left my hand resting on my leg, palm up, fingers relaxed. Slowly, Iinched my hand out, and he extended his snout a few inches like he wanted to sniff me, but stayed right where he was.
“It’s okay. We’ll get there eventually.”
The pocket of my hoodie held the last pieces of hot dog, so I pulled the bag out and tossed him the few left over. His eyes stayed on me as he lowered his head, but as he ate, his tail gave a few uneven thumps, and a smile overtook my face.
For a few moments longer, I stayed and enjoyed the relative quiet.
Relative, of course, because Daisy was barking at a fly in her kennel, Scout’s collar jangled as he scratched at his neck, and Eddie howled at something I couldn’t see.
But still ... it wasn’t bad. Finally sitting felt like a small kind of win.
My muscles were screaming for a hot shower after unloading all the boxes. More than once, I wished I hadn’t said no to the extra help unpacking. Throughout my evening shift, between answering the phones and doing some admin work to lighten my load the next morning, most of our fosters came through and picked up more food, toys, and puppy pads, all of them curious to know who our mystery donor was.
Join the freaking club.
In the past, Muriel had friends who’d spontaneously show up with items off our wish list, but no one in Second Leash’s ten years had ever come in and cleared that list completely.
It had to be him, didn’t it?
Or did I just want it to be?
Archer Evans was a mystery, and I didn’t much like those. Figuring him out was priority number one.
Or ten, or twenty, depending on the day. But on the to-do list surrounding hot, pompous football players currently infiltrating my life, he was definitely in the top spot. How else was I supposed to compartmentalize his overwhelming presence?
As it was, he invaded far too much brain space, slipping unnoticed into areas he had no business being in.
“What do you think about him, Bandit?”
The dog slowly lowered his body to the floor, keeping his eyes trained on me as he settled his muzzle between his paws. His ability to relax in my presence was a good step, and another one of my wins for the night.
Not wanting to disturb his well-earned quiet, I stood slowly and left his kennel. After securing the latch, I turned off all the lights and let myself out through the front doors.
The sun was going down as I drove home, and I yawned about seven times, praying that Analise would have Gavin ready for bed, because there was no way I’d make it past nine thirty. As I neared home, I glanced in the rearview mirror and swore to try some new mascara. It should not be so hard to find something that didn’t give me raccoon eyes the size of a softball after a shift of mild physical labor.
It was pure vanity that had me licking the edge of my thumb to clean off the dark smudges. The car behind me honked when the light turned green, and I waved my hand in acknowledgment.
“Sorry, sorry,” I muttered. “If you had to face Archer Evans when you got home, you’d clean up a little bit too.”
When I turned onto our street, there was no sign of his truck, and I let out a sigh of relief. The thought of him waiting for me there was a bit too much. Then I started picturing him in my home, manspreading on my couch, taking up way more space than anyone else usually did.