Page 54 of Finding Gideon
The little girl burst into view—skin the same warm brown as mine, big puffball curls, and a dress covered in cartoon cactuses. I pegged her at around seven, still in that stage where curiosity beat out shyness every time. She didn’t stop to introduce herself before heading straight for the fence separating us from the kennel space.
Behind her, two women followed. One tall and white with sharp cheekbones and the long-limbed grace of a runner. The other shorter, curvier, dark-skinned with braids and a soft-eyed smile.
The girl pressed her face against the bars. “There he is! I see him!”
Dennis barked once, more out of routine than alarm, but she waved at him anyway. Then her focus shifted back to the three-legged dog.
“He’s just like me!” she said brightly.
Before either woman could interrupt, she lifted the hem of her dress to show off a pink prosthetic that shimmered like glitter in the sunlight. “See? We match.”
The dog didn’t move.
“He’s shy,” Gideon said gently, stepping closer to her side of the fence.
But then, almost as if the girl had cast a spell, the dog took one step forward. Then another. His tail twitched.
She held out a hand through the bars, motionless.
When the dog finally nosed her fingers, she grinned like she’d won the lottery.
“Told you,” she whispered.
One of the women—her mom, I guessed—cleared her throat. “Sorry to barge in. I’m Zuri’s cousin. We’re staying with her for the summer, and Junie heard about the dog from her.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a hand first to the shorter woman. “I’m Malcolm. This is Gideon.”
“I’m Nia. That’s my wife, Rachel. And you’ve already met Junie.”
Junie beamed, now crouched as close as she could get, the dog’s head nestled against her arm.
“She’s been talking about the ‘three-legged wonder’ all day,” Rachel said. “I think she thinks he’s a kindred spirit.”
“She’s not wrong,” Gideon murmured beside me, voice thick.
The dog stayed perfectly still, pressing his whole face into Junie’s little palm like she was sunlight and he’d been living in shadow.
Junie didn’t even glance away. She kept stroking the dog’s head, her little fingers impossibly gentle. “People think different is sad. But I think it makes you special.”
My throat tightened.
“I didn’t have a forever home either,” she added matter-of-factly. “Not ‘til Mom and Momma came. So I think he just needs someone to love him like that.”
Gideon took a step closer. “He doesn’t have a name yet.”
Junie’s brows furrowed. “No name?”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t have a family yet either. Not yet.”
She turned slowly, wide eyes fixed on us like this was the most serious conversation of her entire life. “That’s okay. He can be mine.”
Nia and Rachel exchanged a glance.
“Wait—uh,” I cleared my throat, glancing at Gideon. “We haven’t actually talked about—he’s not officially up for adoption yet.”
“He was found injured,” Gideon added, his voice softer now. “He’s still healing, and he has only just started eating on his own again.”
Junie looked between us, thoughtful. “Okay. But maybe… maybe he could come home with us when he’s feeling better?”
