Chapter 8
KEZ
I’m awake before five in the morning the next day. I hear Ember whine and I slip out of the bedroom before Charlotte stirs. Between the hard floor and how our kitchen conversation circled in my mind all night, I’d pay for a good night’s rest at this point.
When I enter the kitchen, Ember’s already sitting at the door. She turns and her tiny paws pitter-patter, doing her cute potty dance. Still half-asleep, I rub my sore neck and open the door enough for her to walk through.
Ember sticks her nose outside, then immediately retreats. More whining. I gesture for her to go, but her ears flatten.
“Go on,” I encourage her. “It’s just snow. You’ve seen it before.”
She hides behind my leg, following each footstep I take. I didn’t consider this part of the job description. Of course it is. I look up. Oh. There’s eight to twelve inches of snow towering from the ground. Human and dog prints from previous days, gone. This is the most snow I’ve seen in years.
I remember Duke’s first encounter post blizzard and how he barked at the ground until Dad came to his rescue.
Dad was always more patient than me, especially with his K-9 partner.
He scooped Duke up, showed him there was nothing to fear.
Once Duke realized he was safe, we all laughed while watching the little monster attack the snow.
Ember’s no Duke, but she’s scared like he was and I’m here.
“My puppy’s first real snow,” I catch myself saying the same words my father did to Duke that day. I reach for my necklace. The corner of my eyes crinkle as warmth spreads through my chest. Fully awake now, I forget about the cabin, socks, and even being trapped with Charlotte.
I pick Ember up and scratch behind her ears while carrying her outside. “It’s okay,” I murmur against her soft fur. “We’ve all been there. Come on, I’ll go with you.”
Once outside, I gently set her on the snow, staying where she can see me. Her small body barely crunches through the fluffy surface as she takes one step, then two. Her paw moves again. She faceplants into a drift.
“You got it, little one,” I tell her and believe my words. I let out a chuckle and wait, arms crossed. I take in the scent of fresh, clean winter air. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ember rises to the occasion, scrambling to her feet.
Snow is stuck to her nose and fur. She looks absolutely betrayed.
She meets my eyes and I swear she smiles back.
She barks and leaps and spins, attempting to eat snowflakes.
As she plays, I can’t help my widening smile at her cuteness.
It’s only us enjoying the quiet morning.
She dives back in, making a puppy snow angel.
After Ember finishes her business, she barks and shakes snow all over my clothes.
“Okay, Miss Wiggle Butt. Let’s go inside before we freeze.” I hold the door open and she leaps through.
Nothing in my K-9 career has gone as expected the last three weeks.
Ember’s certainly nothing like Duke. Then again, no dog is.
She’ll never be the dog I thought I’d train.
I can’t deny that there was something wonderful about being there for her first real snowfall.
Something I didn’t plan for…and maybe that’s the point.