Chapter 29
“DOG DAYS ARE OVER” BY FLORENCE + THE MACHINE
Dogs were so simple. I tossed a ball. It got the ball. It brought the ball back. I tossed the ball again. See? Simple.
There was no need for extravagant worries or complicated schemes when it came to having a dog. My dog was different—his entire existence was a scheme—but this dog was young, dumb, and had no purpose at all besides to be entertaining.
“How long have you been out here?” I heard my boss call from the other yard.
I launched the ball in my hands as far as possible and waited for ChuChi, the little Corgi, to sprint as fast as it possibly could after the neon tennis ball.
“Thirty-ish minutes.” I walked to the fence and leaned on the wooden rail to get a peek at the new dog. “Is that Niel?”
“Yup.” Amanda chuckled. She held the leash out as Niel struggled to calm down in the waiting area, ready to burst into the dogless mini yard.
“Family isn’t sure they’ll keep him even with training, so we’re going to do our best to acclimate him in case.
Do me a favor and take him out for walks before you start kennels from now on, alright? ”
“Sounds good.”
That was my job: walk dogs, throw balls, pick up shit, and hope I got the chance to skip all the nasty stuff by helping Amanda train some days. It was all a part of the community service hours I’d been working to finish for the last year.
I had to admit: picking up dog shit did beat helping old people with their shopping bags. I’d rather risk getting bit by a rabid dog than be fussed at every day by a boomer upset with my tattoos.
“Oh, hey—” Amanda stopped and turned around before exiting the holding area. “I have a dog coming in soon with some behavioral issues. You want to sit in on another? Maybe take some lead so you can work with some of these dogs? Might help you feel better with Lukas.”
“Yeah!” I nodded. Anything not to deal with turn down shit pick up each shift. “I’d love that.”
Amanda grinned. She loved when we were excited to work with the dogs, me and the other teens in the rehab program who worked here. She might have been a dog trainer, but her rehab programs extended to struggling teens. That was how I got stuck here after my ankle monitor was taken off.
A blessing in disguise, I guess.
“Good. No loose clothing, no quick movements.” She winked. “I’ll let you know what days to plan for!”
“As long as they work with my daughter’s school schedule?—”
“And your school schedule,” Amanda reminded me. “Don’t think I didn’t get a call from your parole officer about your class attendance. Q, you gotta do better.”
“It’s boring. I know this stuff already.” I shrugged. “My GPA is great. My test scores always meet the marks. There’s no point.”
Amanda sighed and opened the gate next door. We watched Niel take off and zoom around the yard.
“The point is, you have a daughter who will one day look at you and wonder why her mom didn’t graduate from high school when she had the capability.
” Amanda spared me a smile over her shoulder.
“If you don’t want to go to school, get your GED.
Plan for your future. Where do you want to go from here?
What are your plans after high school? College?
Career? Internships? Home life? You’re a mother. You have to think about this stuff.”
I groaned and tossed the ball for ChuChi again.
“I’m working on my attendance,” I mumbled.
“Good.” Amanda walked into the yard with Niel, calling over her shoulder, “Go give ChuChi a bath! I can smell that dog from here.”
“He has gas!” I waved a hand at the old dog as he sprinted back over with the ball.