Chapter Twenty-Four #3
Thank God Coco wasn’t here. The loveable French bulldog was a loose cannon on the best of days.
Butterball lay down, staking out his new territory.
I nodded toward Theo, letting him know I’d keep an eye on him, and when he was ready to roam again, we’d contain anything he left behind.
We were now in the final stages of the class. Once it ended, everyone had fifteen minutes to love on whichever animal chose them before Theo led a shelter tour and talked about adoptable pets.
Twelve people were on their backs, eyes closed, and the room held that collective stillness that Delaney had created with her voice as she took over the last segment. I watched her from my spot near the water station, close enough to the door in case we had any runners.
She moved through it easily—completely in control of the room.
I could listen to her do this every week for forever. That thought had just settled when I became aware that the large dog to my left had shifted.
He wasn’t in distress. It was something worse.
Tucker’s whole body was wiggling with that electric joy some dogs had.
I moved toward him at the exact moment he decided that the energy in the room was lacking—that the twelve humans lying peacefully on the floor—was an invitation he couldn’t in good conscience refuse.
He went left. I followed.
Then he darted right, faster than a dog his size had any right to move, and tore into a full sprint, circling the room, tail whipping around like it was trying to detach itself from his body.
Savasana ended.
Doug got licked first, directly on his face. He made a sound that I would say he’d never want repeated from the way he winced. Sienna sat up with an “oh honey,” but I couldn’t tell if she meant it for Doug or the dog.
The dog hit Goldie’s mat at full speed. My heart jumped in my throat. A seventy pound dog could crush her. Goldie, who had been in deep relaxation still lying on her mat, opened her eyes as Tucker leapt over her, full of enthusiasm.
The next victim—participant—was still flat on his mat, eyes open now but otherwise unmoved. Tucker planted himself at the man’s feet. The man blinked up at the ceiling, and then gave a small, resigned shrug, like this was part of what to expect.
Possibly due to boredom or a lack of attention, Tucker had decided his current spot didn’t work for him, so instead he ran toward Mia and stopped abruptly once he reached her. His tongue lolled out, and he woofed.
Mia laughed and held out her arms. He stood there for a moment, tail still thwacking, and then put his enormous head in her lap with the complete and utter adoration only a dog could show.
The room gave out a collective “awww.” Even Doug.
“Mom, please?” Mia asked.
Her mother, Amy, looked at her daughter’s face and then Tucker’s. “Honey, you’re going away to college next year and a dog is—”
“Company,” Mia said. “For you and Dad when I’m gone.” Mia wrapped her arms around Tucker and gave her mom that pleading look teens had perfected over the years.
Tucker, as though he understood his future was in the balance, turned and applied himself to Amy with focused sincerity. He sat in front of her. He looked at her. He simply waited, head tipped slightly, eyes fixed on her without blinking.
He nudged Amy with his nose. And she reached out to rub behind his ears. A huge puppy grin lit up his face as he closed his eyes.
“Let me call your dad and see what he says.” She looked at Theo. “And you’re waiving the adoption fee?”
Theo, who I swear was blinking back tears, cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
This. This is what made it all worth it.
I met Glamma’s gaze. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The look on her face said everything she would’ve said, which was, “You see? I do know best.”
I gave her a chin nod of understanding and acceptance.
The room had a light, happy energy as everyone wiped down and rolled up their mats. Participants lingered with the animals. I swear I overheard Doug and Sienna discussing taking Marmalade home.
My heart squeezed.
Theo moved through the room with the glowing energy of a man watching something he’d believed for a long time would come to fruition.
My phone buzzed. I held it up so Delaney could see me stepping out. The hallway outside the common room was cooler than expected. Or I was warmer than I’d registered.
I looked at the number.
I knew this number.
“Hello, Mr. Geraldi,” I said to the grant committee member I’d been in touch with since I started the application.
“Hello, Dr. Kingsley.” He spoke evenly, each word placed with careful precision. “So glad I caught you.”
I waited. I had learned, over the years, that waiting was usually more efficient than filling silence.
“The committee has some exciting news. Our regional schedule has opened up unexpectedly—we’re going to be moving up the site visit. We’ll be observing the Ruby River Animal Shelter at the end of the day, next Friday.”
“Wonderful.” I heard myself say. “Do you have a time yet?”
Silently, I pleaded that it was earlier in the day.
“We saw the yoga class listed on the shelter’s website. Very creative approach—we’d love to see it in action.”
“We had an adoption match tonight, in fact.”
“Excellent. My assistant will reach out for details. Have a good evening.”
“You too.”
I lowered the phone.
Well, fuck me.
One week.
We’d held two classes. And only one was a success.
And now, the fate of everything Theo had spent five years building—every grant application, every program outline, every early morning and late evening he’d put into this shelter, into something that actually served the community—would be evaluated on the basis of a single yoga class, by a committee that would be watching every animal incident with professional attention.
I sagged against the wall.
Behind the door, Delaney was laughing at something, and Theo’s animated voice recounted a recent animal escapade.
I pushed off the wall and went back inside.
Delaney saw my face before I crossed the room. She said something brief to Cheryl, touched her arm once, and came to me.
“What happened?”
I recounted the story to her sympathetic ears.
“Don’t worry, Marc. We’ve got this,” she promised.
I wanted to believe her with all my heart, but despite her assurance, I couldn’t help but worry.