Kara was already moving toward a nearby dog. “You figure it out as you go. Come on, let’s get these pups inside.”
They set about rounding up the dogs, their conversation minimal. Kara’s tone remained professional as she offered tidbits of information about the rescue, making Ethan feel oddly like a stranger. But instead of dwelling on it, he focused on the task at hand.
Corralling the excited pups was like herding caffeinated butterflies, but eventually, they guided almost every dog back to their kennel. As they worked, Ethan noticed the path her feet had etched into the yard’s perimeter, the ballet-like grace of her efficient movements, and the way each dog’s ears perked up at her familiar footsteps. Finally, they came to the last dog, a miniature schnauzer, who seemed intent on sleeping in the shade under the large oak.
Kara held out a leash. “That’s Benny. Why don’t you take him?”
Ethan, taking the leash, lowered himself to eye level with the miniature schnauzer. “Hey there, Benny,” He stroked the gray fur on top of his head. “You enjoying some time in the shade?” Ethan smiled. “How old’s this guy?”
“Twelve, we think. He came in as a stray about six years ago.”
“Six years? And no one’s adopted him yet?”
Kara kneeled beside Ethan. “He’s had a few foster homes,” she explained, her voice soft. “But it never quite worked out. One family moved, another was allergic, and the last—well, senior dog care isn’t cheap.”
Ethan scratched behind Benny’s ears. “Poor guy. Any interest lately?”
Kara shook her head. “Not yet. But his forever home is out there somewhere. He’s such a sweetheart.”
Ethan clipped the leash to Benny’s collar. “What do you say, Benny? Ready?”
As they walked back inside, Kara pointed out various storage areas, explaining, “Here’s where we keep our extra bedding ... food ... and other supplies.”
Ethan nodded, taking it all in. “You only rescue dogs?”
“No, we usually have cats too, but it’s been quiet on that front lately.”
They paused by a window, sunlight streaming in and illuminating Kara’s face. Her small smile faded, replaced by a quiet intensity. “You know, when we first started, we only rescued cats and dogs. Didn’t make much sense though when really all animals feel pain and joy, like any pet.”
Ethan listened intently, captivated by the passion in her voice.
Kara continued. “Every animal wants to live. It’s a shame that they’re treated differently because they weren’t born a cat or dog. They all deserve compassion and care. That’s what this place is about, a home for all animals who need a second chance.” Kara’s face lit up. “You wouldn’t believe some animals we’ve rescued. Goats, chickens, and, believe it or not, a pretentious frog who thought he was a prince.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “No kidding? Where’d you put them all?”
“We made do here for a while, but eventually found them homes at better-equipped rescues. Oh, and get this—we once rescued a pig that jumped off a truck headed for, well, you know.”
Ethan shook his head. “Kara, that’s—wow.” He met her eyes. “What you’re doing here—it’s incredible, really.”
Kara’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks. It’s tough sometimes, but—” She glanced around at the animals. “Each one matters, you know?”
“They do, and they’re lucky to have you.” Ethan smiled, then clapped his hands together. “So, what’s next on the to-do list?”
Kara bit her lip. “Actually, there is something. I’ve got this camera I’ve been meaning to install in the yard. Keep an eye on the dogs, you know? Just haven’t found the time.” She jerked her thumb toward a door. “I’ll grab it from the office. Mind getting the ladder and toolbox from the supply closet?”
“On it,” Ethan said, already moving. As he opened the door to the walk-in closet, he blinked at the clutter inside. A mishmash of items crowded the shelves—giant bottles of pet shampoo stood beside squeaky toys, while a leaning tower of creased animal care guides looked ready to collapse.
As his eyes scanned inside, finding the ladder and toolbox, something else caught his attention. A photo album, its spine labeledSecond Chance Animal Rescue, sat on top of a pile of blankets.
He carefully pulled it out and opened the album. Page after page showed Kara over the years, her smile constant even as the scenery and animals around her changed.
As he neared the back of the album, something slipped from between the pages. He reached out and caught it before it hit the floor. Ethan’s chest tightened.
It was a Polaroid. Kara’s eyes were closed, caught mid-blink, while he sported a wide, carefree smile from twenty-two years ago.
She kept it?
“Ethan?” Kara called out. “You okay in there?”