Chapter 7 Wes
Wes
“Have you ever thought about getting a dog?” Jameson asks as I’m sweeping the aisle of his barn.
“A dog?” I question looking at him, then down at the two other sets of eyes staring up at me.
One is a giant black and white fluffy dog named Bennet, and I know he was Sutton’s before she moved here.
The other is a blue nose Pit Bull named Duke.
I like dogs, I’ve never owned one, but I get along when them fine, especially these two.
“Yeah, you know, maybe you’d be less lonely,” he ribs.
“I’m not lonely, I have plenty of women keeping me entertained.” I used to. Not anymore. The one I want refuses to give into what we clearly have.
“I’m sure you do, but you can never have too many friends.” He shrugs, and the dogs follow.
I consider what he’s saying, and I know service dogs have been offered to several other veterans I’ve known over the years. I’ve just never seen the need for myself. I don’t need any service a dog can offer, but for some reason his words stick with me this time.
Maybe I’ll go to the shelter and walk the dogs sometime.
I do need distractions to fill my days, which is why I’m here with the horses so often.
I don’t have a job, nor would I know what I would even do if I did.
Due to the circumstances of my discharge, how long I served, and the money I inherited from my parents after they died I don’t have to work for an income.
I like to do things that I want to do, not just for a paycheck.
I don’t need much, my car is the nicest thing I own. I have no interest filling my space with useless junk I’ll never use. But maybe spending time with dogs could help fill more of my days.
Animals are peaceful, and they don’t talk back which is probably my favorite part about them. I don’t have to say anything to them, they don’t have to say anything to me. There’s a mutual understanding and it’s nice.
That’s how I ended up at the local animal shelter. The older woman working there looked at me wide eyed, which isn’t exactly new for me. I’m a big guy, a lot of people stare when I walk in somewhere and instantly think I’m scarier than I really am.
“How can I volunteer?” I ask, though I recognize I think it sounded more like a grunt than I meant.
“Y-you want to volunteer?” she stutters.
I nod, once.
“Yeah, okay, of course. Great. I’ll get you the paperwork to get started.” She starts rummaging around.
I shift, looking around at the small office area. “I just want to walk them.”
“That’s more than okay, we need all the help we can get, and sometimes they just want a little extra attention.” She pulls out a couple pieces of paper, scanning them and then sliding them over to me.
“It’s just general liability info.” She waves her hand around like it’s no big deal.
“As long as I’m not signing away my soul or something.” My tone remains even, but she barks out a loud laugh like I told her the greatest joke possible.
“No, no it’s nothing like that,” she says through her laughter, and I still think she’s laughing way too hard over my non-joke.
I don’t even crack a smile, looking down at the papers and signing my name on the line and handing them over.
“Perfect, you can come by any time we’re open.” She smiles widely.
“I’m free now if that’s okay?”
“Oh yeah, of course, please. There’re so many dogs, I’m sure will be happy to stretch their legs a bit.”
Nodding, she leads me back toward the kennels, and introduces me to some of the dogs. Some look so scared cowering in the back of the cage, some are laying under the cot bed they’re provided. Others are sitting up front, wagging their tail just hoping they’ll get an ounce of attention.
It’s a German Shepherd that catches my eye. He’s curled up as small as he can be, face turned away and I can feel his sadness from here. “That’s Bruno, he’s been shy ever since his previous family dropped him off here about a month ago.”
My stomach sinks. “Why would they do that?”
She sighs. “It happens a lot more than you think and there’s always a different reason. Moving, a new baby, change in lifestyle, and sometimes, they just don’t want them anymore.”
“None of those seem like good enough reasons to get rid of a dog,” I grumble.
“I agree, but other people don’t.”
“That’s fucked up,” I murmur.
She hums in agreement. “Want to take him out?”
I nod, and she grabs a leash hanging on the side of the kennels before unlocking the door. She hands me the thin fabric, and Bruno doesn’t even stir from his spot. I kneel down. “Hey bud.”
His ear perks slightly, but he still doesn’t move.
“Want to go on a walk?” He moves a little, just the smallest swish of his tail.
I don’t push him, opting to just wait. He must realize I’m not leaving because his head lifts up a bit and he looks at me. Even his big brown eyes look sad as he stares at me. I lift up the leash to show him and he starts to stand. It’s slow, and he keeps his head low as he approaches me.
“Wow,” the woman sighs. “This is the first time I’ve seen him get up for anyone.”
I want to feel proud of that, but it just makes my chest hurt even more. My leg aches from the way I’m kneeling on the hard floor, but I refuse to move. I don’t want to scare him and ruin the little bit of trust I’ve somehow built.
He nudges my hand, and I pet his soft fur; he looks at me a little more, and gets closer. I lift the leash higher,. “Walk?”
He lets me slip it around his neck and I’m finally able to stand, my legs protesting as they stretch. The woman looks at me in awe as I lead Bruno out. The shelter isn’t near a busy road, and has walking paths throughout the forest around the property.
Not wanting to rush the dog, I let him take in his surroundings as slow as he wants. He walks with his head low, but his ears aren’t completely pinned back so I know that’s a good sign.
I don’t try to talk to him, instead enjoying the peaceful quiet as we walk.
I think about the few things I need to take care of at home, which then leads me to thinking of what else is at home, or more so who’s next door.
She’ll probably be home by the time I get back, not that I’ll get to see her since she holes up in her house just as much as I do.
Bruno stops lifting his head slightly.
“What is it?”
Listening intently, I try to hear what he does, but there’s nothing other than the leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Bruno doesn’t move, just looks off in the distance at something I can’t see while hearing something I can’t hear.
He’s on alert, just like I am in almost every situation. I didn’t know I could relate to a dog more than I do in this moment. He finally relaxes subtly, dropping his head again and leading us down the path.
When we’re done with the walk, I don’t want to put him back in the kennel.
Especially when I see the way he resists walking in.
Again, I don’t force him, but I do ask for some treats to help.
Though, as the kennel is closed on him I want to rip the metal apart and take him out again.
To take him away from here and never bring him back.
But I can’t do that. I don’t know how to take care of a dog or if I would even be good at it. Plus all the animals here need homes, and I can’t bring home every single one just because I feel bad, no matter how much I want to.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I promise because if I can’t bring him home, I’ll certainly take him out every day until someone else comes along to give him his forever home. Everyone deserves the opportunity to get a second chance at life.
At least that’s what I’ve been told, even if I think it’s bullshit for myself. I got my second chance, and I’ll never understand why. I also feel like I’m completely wasting it, so this is the least I can do.