Page 49 of Cruel Steps

“Oh. Um.” I looked at my watch. I still had two hours before I had to meet my professor in the library. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Perfect.” She turned, then stopped. “Do you have any allergies? The last visitor I had forgot to disclose his allergy to cats. The poor kid looked like a puffkin when he left here.”

My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth, words stuck on my tongue. “Um, no?” Why did I phrase it as a question? I wanted to face-palm myself. I cleared my throat and tried again. “No.”

“Good. And don’t worry; they assured me his face wouldn’t look like that permanently.” Sandy smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me along. She talked a mile a minute, telling me about the animals, the adoption process, and how Pawsitive Haven got started.

I was amazed that a place like this was here. It was an onslaught of information, and I tried to do my best to absorb it. We walked through the cat room and then into the dog kennels. Dogs whimpered and barked at our approach, creating a cacophony of noises. There were older dogs and younger ones, and I wanted to take them all home.

“Ah, you got that look. You can’t take them all home, but you can come back and volunteer.”

“What?” I asked, confused. Sandy smiled and squeezed my arm.

“Don’t worry. The look is a good thing, but if you focus on how sad it is, you’ll never come back, and I’d like to see you again. Instead, focus on giving them the love you can while they’re here and helping them prepare to meet their forever family.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“You got a good heart.”

“What does a volunteer do?” I asked, as she led me to a kennel. She opened it up and scooped out a fluffy puppy and handed it to me.

“Mostly this. There are some other tasks if you’re able to help more. Let me introduce you to my partner in crime, and he can get you the forms. Do you go to Hayward? He’s a senior there.”

“Yes, I do, but I just transferred this year so I don’t know that many people yet.”

“Hmm,” she said, eyeing me as I petted the puppy. He fell asleep in my arms, his nose nuzzled into my elbow. “You’re a bit like a Rat Terrier,” she said, surprising me.

“What?”

“You’re sweet and observant, but hiding a fighter underneath.”

I stared. What in the world? “Thanks?”

Sandy kept smiling. “I’m a Barbet myself.”

I nodded, despite not knowing either breed. I’d take her word for it. The front door jingled, and she took off toward it.

“Okay, wait right here. He should be in any second. He’s a Border Collie, that one!” She was already through the door before I could process her words. Did she describe everyone in dog breeds?

Cuddling my puppy, I kept petting his soft fur. I did feel better. Maybe I could volunteer once a week. A healthy dose of puppy kisses might be the pick-me-up I needed. A door swung open behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted a large dog trotting through it. When it spotted me, it took off for me and jumped. I turned to protect the puppy in my arms, missing his paws, but the leash managed to get wrapped around my legs, nonetheless. The big dog slobbered all over my legs, but thankfully, the puppy didn’t seem bothered.

“Rocket! What have I told you about boundaries? You can’t just lick people you meet.” The leash was unwrapped, and I stared at the last person I expected to see here.

“Mer?” Colter’s eyes widened in surprise before shifting to delight.

“Hey.” Colter pushed the over-excited dog aside as it tried to continue to lick me, jumping up on his hind legs. Colter laughed, shaking his head at the dog.

“Rocket, stop.” The dog sat and laid his head down, covering his eyes with his paws and whining. “I regret teaching you that trick.” He sighed and tackled the dog, letting him kiss his face while he scratched under his head and ears. I watched on in amazement. There was something about watching a man with dogs and babies that just did something to my ovaries. “Okay, you big goon, go bug someone else.” The dog trotted off like he understood.

Colter stood and brushed off dog hair. His eyes settled on mine again, and he smiled at the sleeping puppy in my arms.

“You look good holding a puppy.”

“Pretty sure everyone does.”

“Not that one. He doesn’t like people.”

I glanced down at my friend. “Then why did Sandy give him to me?”

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