Chapter 13
“Hey Jake, it’s good to see you,” said Maria, emerging from the kennel area. “How’ve you been?”
I let the door to the shelter close behind me and fought against my instinctive response to the smell—a mixture of disinfectant and dog.
Crescent City Canines was a clean place.
They did a great job taking care of the animals, but they were always at capacity and housing that many dogs together left an olfactory mark.
“Good. Work’s busy. How are things with you guys?”
“We’re busy, too.” She leaned against the counter, taking what I knew was a well-deserved break.
She wore jeans and a blue Crescent City Canines T-shirt, and she’d pulled her graying hair into a ponytail.
“The shelter is full, and I’ve fostered out to everyone I can, but the dogs all have a place to stay, so we’re good. ”
Maria started the shelter after one of the hurricanes left so many pets homeless and kept it going because there was always a need. I’d donated to one of their adoption fair fundraisers and kept coming back when I found out about the Doggy’s Day Out program.
“Thanks for the food delivery. It really helps.”
“You’re more than welcome. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.” I’d set up a recurring delivery of dog food when Maria told me that’s what would do the most good for the shelter.
“We’re good. Unless I can get you to change your mind about fostering?” She arched an eyebrow at me and smiled expectantly, but I knew she wouldn’t push.
We’d had the conversation about fostering the first time I’d taken one of the dogs out for a day trip.
Part of me would love to have a dog, but another part worried I’d get so caught up in my head, I wouldn’t give it the care it deserved.
And regardless of how much I might want it, it wasn’t fair to put the extra responsibility on Anna.
Growing up, I’d had a dog named Turing, nicknamed Turn.
He was part Lab part shaggy mutt, and I’d adored him.
When things got difficult for me at school or I had a problem with something else, he was always there for me.
But it was my mom who reminded me to take care of him or she just did it herself.
Even as an adult, I didn’t really trust myself to take care of another living thing.
So I came to the shelter to get my furry companion fix and to give the dogs a break from the kennel.
“Not now. But I promise to let you know if I change my mind,” I said. “Do you have someone who could use a day out today.”
“I’ve got the perfect someone.” Marie glanced at my athletic shorts and sneakers. “Are you going for a run?”
“I was hoping to.”
“Go ahead and sign in.” She pushed the laptop sitting on the counter in my direction. “I’ll be right back.”
By the time I finished filling out the online form, Maria was back, leading what looked like a small hound mix. He had floppy ears and a smooth, soft brown coat, and he looked like he’d take off, dragging Maria behind him if she let him.
“Jasper, sit.”
The dog’s butt grazed the floor before he popped back up to standing.
“No treat unless you sit.” At the word treat, the dog’s entire focus shifted to Maria’s pocket. She held up a hand to get his attention and tried again. “Jasper. Sit!”
This time his butt stayed down, and he waited—if not patiently, at least without too much wiggling—for her to give him a piece of puppy jerky.
“Good boy.” She ran a hand over his head, ruffling his ears, before standing and holding out the leash to me. “Jasper is just over a year old with enough energy to power a small city. He has the potential to be a great dog, but he has a hard time calming down.”
The dog danced and wiggled around my feet as if to prove her point. I reached into my shorts pocket for the dog treats I’d stashed earlier. I held one up so Jasper could see it before concealing it in my hand. His gaze latched on to where the treat disappeared, and the wriggle calmed a fraction.
“Jasper, sit.” I pitched the command low, and the dog immediately obeyed. “Good boy.” I gave him the treat and a head pat, and then held my hand up and told him to stay. To my surprise--and I think Maria’s—he complied, sitting at my feet like the perfect specimen of canine obedience.
“Would you look at that,” Maria said, shaking her head. “He hasn’t been running with anyone before, but he’s good on a leash. And food motivated, as you can tell. He could be a great dog for someone if he could stay calm long enough for them to get to know him.”
“Let’s see if I can wear him out. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” I said, giving the leash a tug and heading to the door.
“Have fun,” Maria called after us.
We started out walking the few blocks to the Riverwalk so we could get used to each other before we risked running and getting tangled in leashes and limbs.
Jasper pulled against the leash, but a quick correction had him walking as close to a heel as I could expect with all the sights and sounds around us.
He sniffed his way down the first block and a half, paying particular attention to the doorways.
By the third block, he was walking with his head high and an expression on his doggy face that I swear looked like he was ready for a big adventure.
As soon as we hit the Riverwalk, I started to run, and Jasper fell into step beside me.
We ran with the Mississippi on one side and the city on the other.
I slid easily into a comfortable stride, losing myself in the feel of my feet hitting the walkway and the dog keeping pace next to me.
We’d gone three miles when my watch vibrated with an incoming text.
I glanced down to see Elena’s name and smiled.
I hadn’t heard from her since she cancelled our sex toy date, and I was definitely interested in rescheduling.
ELENA
What’s a Hopper?
That was not the text I expected.
ME
Like the insect?
ELENA
Like the award you were nominated for. You’re really good at what you do.
I slowed to a walk and Jasper, looking less winded than I felt, matched my pace like the good boy he clearly was, keeping a curious eye on the people passing around us but not pulling on the leash.
I got an irrational flush of pride at her words despite the fact that she must have gotten the info from the guy at Essex.
It was the second time someone had brought up the award in as many weeks, which hardly seemed like coincidence.
What I didn’t know was why Elena was bringing it up now. Surely, she’d uncovered that much about me in her initial search before we started seeing each other.
I’d looked her up too. Nothing creepy or stalkerish.
If I put my mind to it, I could have found out pretty much anything I wanted.
The illusion of privacy didn’t hold against a dedicated user with a keyboard and internet connection.
I just went deep enough to see her business stuff and make sure she was a real outwardly sane person.
I had almost no social media presence but even though it was ancient in computing years, the press announcement of the nomination should be easy enough for anyone to find.
ME
It’s an award for an advancement in programming. I was nominated while I was working on my doctorate.
I glanced down at Jasper, who pressed against my leg, giving me an are we going soon look. I gave his head a rub and he leaned his cheek against my knee, clearly bored but calm for the time being.
ELENA
That’s very cool. You’re very cool.
Jasper swiped at my leg with his paw, his patience clearly exhausted. His look said he didn’t think I was all that cool at the moment.
ME
Thanks. You’re very cool too.
I gave it another minute and another paw swipe from the dog to see if she’d respond again.
When she didn’t, we took off running, my thoughts still circling about why she’d brought up the award now.
It didn’t have to mean anything. She might have known and just not said anything before.
We didn’t exactly have a you show me your CV, I’ll show you mine kind of relationship.
More of a share secret fantasies one. I’d never been conflicted about which kind I wanted.
Jasper got a lot of attention from the people we passed, but as long as we kept moving, he pretty much ignored it.
By the time we circled back to where we’d started, he had the decency to look slightly winded.
I stretched my hamstrings, and he sat and panted until a young girl—maybe seven or eight; I was rubbish at guessing ages—approached with her mother.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Can I pet your dog?”
“Of course.” I tightened my grip on the leash in case Jasper decided to get a second wind or ideas.
He perked up as soon as he realized something was happening, but when I put my hand down and told him to stay, he listened, shocking both of us.
The girl held out her hand for him to sniff, which he did with vigor before licking her palm.
She giggled, and he did it again, clearly pleased with her response.
He strained at the leash, trying to get closer to her.
She crouched down next to him, tipping her face up to fend off the puppy licks.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jasper.”
“You’re such a good boy, Jasper.” The girl cooed and petted him while the dog wiggled and relished his good boy status.
“He’s actually not my dog.” I pointed to his Adopt Me bandana. “I just borrowed him from the shelter for a day trip.”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” said her mother.
“I do it as often as I can. Dogs that get out of the shelter and can interact with people stand a better chance of getting adopted.” I glanced from the mother to the little girl and the dog clearly soaking up his chance to socialize.
On his back now, tail wagging and tummy exposed for rubs.
“And I get a running buddy, which is good for me too.”
“Isn’t it hard for you to take them back at the end of the day? Do you ever think of adopting yourself?” She bent down next to her daughter and offered Jasper her hand to sniff.
“Look, Momma. He’s such a good boy.”
Jasper rolled over and sat up, the perfect example of a model dog. Turned out he could do calm and obedient if he ran five miles first.
“The Crescent City Canines shelter is great. Maria takes really good care of them, so they don’t seem to mind going back.
” I hadn’t really thought about whether it was hard for me to take the dogs back.
Mostly because owning a dog never seemed like an option to me.
“My life isn’t really set up to have a dog. ”
The words didn’t sit quite right in my head as I said them, but no one was paying much attention to me anyway. They were both focused on Jasper in what looked like a clearly reciprocated love fest.
“Could we adopt him?” The little girl looked up at me with such longing in her eyes.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say of course when I caught her mother’s wary expression.
“Having a dog is a huge responsibility. And Jasper has a ton of energy. He’d need a place to run and lots of walks,” I said.
The little girl nodded, clearly more interested in solving problems than being deterred.
“Maria vets all the adoption applications to make sure the dogs end up in homes that are a good fit for both them and their people. If you and your mom talk about it and are really interested, that’s the place to start.
” I turned to look at the mom, unable to fight the pleading eyes of girl and dog any longer.
“The shelter is also always looking for foster homes.”
“I’m not sure we could fall in love with a dog and then give it to another home.” She kept her gaze on her daughter and the dog, cuddled together now and sharing deep thoughts. “You’ve given us a lot to consider. We should go.”
I waited as the little girl reluctantly got to her feet, giving Jasper one last hug before taking her mother’s hand.
The dog watched them walk away, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears.
If Jasper could speak, I imagined he’d be pitching what a good boy he was and how he didn’t really need that many walks.
“Come on. Let’s go get a treat.”
We walked the few blocks to one of my favorite dog-friendly outdoor cafes, with tables lining the sidewalk and plenty of space for the dog to lie down.
“Who’s this handsome guy?” The young woman in a black T-shirt with the café’s logo set a bowl of water next to the dog.
“His name is Jasper, and he’s been a very good boy today.” The dog gave me a now you’re getting with the program look. “He’s definitely earned a treat.”
He had, but even if he hadn’t, I’d still be getting him something yummy as part of his day out. Treats didn’t always have to be earned.
“Fantastic,” said the server. “What can I bring you guys?”
“A double order of bacon for him and the oyster po boy with fries for me.”
“Anything to drink?”
I glanced at Jasper’s now mostly empty water bowl. “Just water for both of us, please.”
I opened the fitness app on my watch to check our mileage, and it vibrated with the distance. Jasper raised his head but didn’t bother to sit up. The run had worn him out, which meant his behavior problems were an energy management thing and not a temperament issue.
I made a note in my phone to mention it to Maria.
Some of it he’d grow out of, and the rest could be managed by a family who wanted him to succeed and came up with ways to help him instead of punishing him and expecting him to work against his nature.
I glanced down at the dog stretched out at my feet and tried not to feel too much of a kinship.
If I was going to get all Zen about it, it was about seeing someone for who they really were and not trying to force them into some kind of predetermined box.
My family had done that for me. It was the reason I was sitting in a café on a gorgeous day with work I loved and a sense of purpose that kept me engaged.
Maybe someone could do the doggie version for Jasper.