Chapter 6
SIX
O
n Saturday morning, Willow walked up Mae’s front porch steps and knocked on the door. As the inevitable high-pitched barking started inside, she looked up at the wooden sign hanging over the entrance beside the rainbow flag.
Everyone Is Welcome Here.
They weren’t just words. It was a motto Mae lived by, and a big part of the reason why she was so admired and beloved by so many people on the island.
Mae pulled the door open wearing her gardening uniform: overalls, rainbow tie-dyed T-shirt, sunhat, and her yellow gardening boots with little blue flowers on them.
She held her three little yappy rescue dogs back with one foot.
Chihuahua crosses, all of them part demon.
“Quiet, you three. Willow, hi. You’re up early. ”
“I know.” Because she couldn’t sleep. When she had, she’d dreamed about her brother.
And Tripp.
Those had been the most disturbing, because they’d taken a decidedly sensual turn, just like they had when she’d last seen him four years ago. While she’d still been in a relationship with her ex. Because she’d felt drawn to him on an eerily deep level from day one.
She hadn’t liked the effect Tripp had on her then, and she didn’t like it now. She’d been thinking about him way too much since seeing him at The Skelly. About the changes in him.
Not just his scars, though she did want to know exactly what had happened, what he must have gone through. He was so much quieter than he used to be. Withdrawn.
“What’ve you got on the go today? Still unpacking?” Mae asked.
“Maybe later. I was wondering if you had time to go somewhere with me.”
Mae blinked. “I’ll make time for you any day, young lady.”
Willow smiled. Today she was taking another big step in building her new life. She’d wanted a dog for years, but had never been able to have one. Her job, and the hours she worked had made taking on a dog impractical.
But the biggest barrier was that her ex hadn’t been on board with the idea. Actually, he’d flat out refused to even consider it, no matter how much she’d begged.
Now? She was free to make all the decisions on her own. Reclaiming that power and control over her life felt amazing.
“I’ve been thinking about maybe going to the shelter to look at a dog and see if there’s a good match. Will you come with me?”
Mae’s eyes lit up. “You want to adopt a dog? What kind?”
“I dunno. A rescue.”
“Yes, they’re all rescues at the shelter. What size?”
“Don’t really care.” Wait, yes she did. A Saint Bernard or Wolfhound-size dog wasn’t a good idea in her little house. Or car. “Not huge.” She eyed the three little things at Mae’s ankles, staring up at her eagerly.
Mix-breed mutts, their tails going a million miles an hour. And there were also three formerly stray cats somewhere around the property. Mae had caught them, had them fixed, tamed them, and now they reigned over their new kingdom like they owned the place.
“But preferably a bit bigger than yours. No offense.”
Mae nodded. “Age preference?”
“Not a puppy.” Too much work. She didn’t want something she would have to housetrain from scratch or would be likely to chew up her house and art supplies if left unsupervised.
“What about a senior?”
She blinked, not having considered that. A senior would theoretically be more mellow and less work than a young dog. Wouldn’t need a ton of exercise. That actually might be a better fit for her lifestyle overall.
“If it’s a good fit, I’d be okay with that.”
“Great. There’s actually one I know about that might work.
A man a few streets down the hill died a month ago, and his dog was taken to the shelter.
Rufus is some kind of a shepherd mix, medium-sized, around forty pounds.
Eight or nine years old maybe. Something like that.
He wasn’t really a pet as far as you and I would call it.
More of an...independent, part-time companion. ”
That sounded...a little concerning. “What do you mean?”
“His owner fed him and took him to the vet if he got sick, but Rufus lived in the backyard or on the front porch. He wandered around the neighborhood and around town at will on his own, and when they did go on walks together, he didn’t wear a leash.
So he’s an independent dog, not used to living in a home. ”
Willow frowned. She’d been hoping for more of a cuddly house companion, but wouldn’t automatically rule a dog out just because it was independent. “Is he friendly?”
“More than he should be, given that he was left to his own devices so often. He’s not aggressive with dogs or people. Kids, I’m not sure about, but we’ll have to assume he isn’t a fan. With Rufus you have to earn his trust, and then he’s a doll.”
The adult and dog tolerance were a relief. She could work with that. “And no one would take him?” Poor thing, losing his owner and home and being dumped in a shelter after living a life full of freedom for so long.
“No one. I would have, but my three can be a bit of a handful at the best of times, and they don’t like bigger dogs. So, whaddya think? Want to go meet him?”
She absolutely hated the thought of a senior dog sitting in a shelter after having a home all its life. Even if that home wasn’t the kind she thought a dog should have. “Okay. Are you free later—”
“Just let me get my purse.” Mae turned away and shooed her dogs back. “Meet you at your place in a minute.”
Oh. Okay then, she thought, staring at the shut door. Now was fine. Now was better, actually.
Willow walked back to her driveway and got in the car. Mae appeared in the rearview mirror a minute later with her trademark bouncy, determined strides as she came up the road in those colorful gardening boots.
She slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, beaming at Willow, the brim of her straw sunhat pulled low over her forehead. “This is so exciting.”
It was, but Willow didn’t want to get her hopes up.
“I’m just going to meet him and look at the other dogs they have.
No decisions today.” She wanted a dog she connected with and didn’t want to make a knee-jerk decision they would both regret later.
If she committed to adopting a dog, it was for life.
“Sure, of course.”
The shelter was a small cedar-constructed building off the main road ten minutes up the hill toward the center of the island. The moment they opened the front door, a chorus of barking started in the back. A deeper one immediately stood out from the others.
“That’s Rufus,” Mae said with an enthusiastic smile. “Hi, Jenny,” she said to the young woman at the front desk. “We’re just here to see Rufus. Any applications for him yet?”
“No, none. Poor boy. Go on back. If you want to take him out for a walk, just let me know and I’ll grab a leash.”
Oh, no. No applications at all? In a month?
Willow followed Mae down the corridor, trying to steel herself as she glanced at the few dogs in their kennels on the way by.
Don’t get all emotional. It’s not a kill shelter. They’re not going to die if you don’t adopt them.
That helped a tiny bit, but not much. She absolutely hated seeing animals in cages.
Several dogs jumped up and put their paws flat on the kennel doors as she walked by. Three huskies. A few pitbull mixes. Each of them with excited tails and hopeful eyes that begged her to stop and give them a chance.
Nooooo, sweet babies...
She looked away, a horrible weight forming in the pit of her stomach. Along with a thick layer of guilt.
Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea. How was she going to forget those hopeful little faces?
Around the corner, she found Mae hunkered down in front of a chain-link kennel door, talking softly to its occupant. “Hey, Rufus. Remember me? I brought someone to meet you. You wanna come over and say hello?”
Willow stopped behind her, peering into the shadows as a low, warning growl came from the back of the kennel.
Oh, wow. The growl was concerning.
A dog-shaped shadow stood up, head lowered, and took a cautious step forward.
“That’s it,” Mae coaxed brightly, seeming completely unfazed by the growl or the dog’s obvious reluctance. “Good boy. Come on, come say hi.”
Rufus slowly emerged into the light. He was mostly a solid chocolate brown, with a white chest and sock on each foot. Definitely a mutt, with some shepherd in him. One triangular ear pointed up, and the tip of his right one flopped over in a totally endearing way.
He looked so worried as he stared at them, and his little face was starting to gray slightly. But his eyes were a piercing, deep gold that seemed to see right into her soul.
“There he is,” Mae crooned like a proud grandmother. “What a handsome boy. Aren’t you? Yes. Come on. You know me, and my friend’s really nice. Promise. She won’t hurt you.”