Page 55 of Scarlet Vows
But dogs always,alwaysdrew me in. I think it’s their unconditional love, the way they look at you. You need to win cats over, and they tend to have their own secret lives. I’m sure they love unconditionally, too. Dogs, however, have that extra something, that thing I crave, the ability to never question and be open and needing of my love.
The back door opens, and the redhead comes out, along with a tall, black-haired woman.
“I’m Eva, the manager. Pleased to meet you, Alina. Have you done this before?”
I shake my head, heat rushing over me. “No, I’m just looking for something worthwhile to do, and I’ve always adored animals, especially dogs. I want to help them, make their lives better, basically.”
“Well, when can you come back?”
“I’m not doing anything now. I have a lot of free time, so I’m just looking to fill it doing something good for the world.”
She grins. “You can start now. I’ll show you around.”
Eva tells me they tend to dress down, in jeans or yoga pants or whatever, and a T-shirt with the shelter’s name on it. “It can get a little grubby, and doggy love is messy with hair, slobber, and muddy paws on wet days after walks.”
“I don’t mind.”
In the end, I spend the rest of the day cleaning cages and kennels, feeding and walking the dogs, and of course, tending to them and playing with them.
And it’s an utter joy.
Eva or Jane, the girl behind the counter, tells me the stories of how the dogs got here, and I soak it all in. Some were rescued from the streets. Others were taken from abusive situations or handed in lost. And others break my heart.
They tell me stories about some owners being unable to look after them anymore. Or that their owners died.
There’s one dog, Albert, who’s a cute, sad little bundle. A Corgi mix, according to Eva.
I seem to have an instant bond with him. I understand the sadness in his eyes, the way he shuffles. The hesitation to take a treat and the guilt that permeates when he leans into an ear scratch.
“What happened to Albert? He’s so friendly, so gentle. Someone loved him very much.”
Eva’s eyes darken. “He’s a good dog. His owner was an elderly man, lived alone, and when he fell and died, Albert sat by him for three days, almost starving himself, not even going for more than a tiny bite and drink so he didn’t leave the man alone more than needed. And any time anyone came near the house, he barked.
“It took a neighbor coming back from a small vacation to realize something was up. Albert wasn’t typically a noisy dog. So now Albert is here, and people overlook him, because like so many others, he isn’t a puppy.”
“Albert,” I whisper, “you are a very good dog.”
I hug him close.
My heart swells at his warm body and soft fur, and the faint scent of lavender from his last shampoo.
If I could, I’d take them all. All these animals have been through a lot. Old or young, they’re all good dogs, and they deserve a good home.
I know Sasha wants pets, and I can wheedle my way into Demyan’s conscience. He’ll crumble like he’s dust if it’s me, his kids, or Erin.
Suddenly, I look at the time. It’s almost seven, and I’ve been here for hours.
“Stay good, Albert,” I say, giving him another hug. Then I stand. “I need to get home, and I figure you’re closing, but can I come back tomorrow?”
Eva beams. “You’re welcome to come back in and help whenever you like.”
I leave, my T-shirt in hand, feeling like a million feet tall.
Finally, I feel like I’ve got a purpose.
I can’t wait to tell Ilya.
Chapter Twelve
