Chapter 18
Ocean
“You’re looking kind of rough this morning. Did you sleep okay?” Pope asked when he stepped into the kitchen to see Ocean with the ends of his hair dangling in his cereal bowl, head propped on his hand, nodding off over breakfast.
“Until somewhere around four, when these dogs started howling down on the beach,” Ocean muttered, raising his head enough that his hair was no longer in the bowl, even if milk dripped off the ends.
“Dogs?” Pope said. “Wonder where they came from.”
“They didn’t have collars and looked half starved,” Ocean said. “We gave them the leftovers. Hope that was okay.”
“Absolutely, but where are they now?” Pope asked. “You didn’t leave them out there, did you?”
“Yeah, but Roan’s with them. We sat and watched the sun come up and played with them in the surf.
I only came in to grab something to eat so I could swap with Roan so he could eat too.
We didn’t want to wake you guys since you and Danger said you were going to sit up and talk after Roan and I went to bed. ”
“While I appreciate the thought, I wouldn’t have minded,” Pope said. “We could have brought them inside and you boys would have gotten more sleep.”
“Roan was afraid you wouldn’t allow it.” Ocean replied.
“I wasn’t sure either, but when he told me that his grandparents had a cow when he brought a kitten home and made him put her back where he found her, I didn’t know what to do.
There were tears in his eyes, and I promised that even if we couldn’t bring them in, we’d find a home for them; we wouldn’t just leave them abandoned. ”
The fierce, furious look that crossed Pope’s face was the first time Ocean had ever seen the man close to angry, and it was scary as fuck.
“His grandparents better hope we never meet,” Pope declared.
“Because the more I hear about the way they treated him, the more I want to give them a taste of their own medicine. It sucks about that kitten. He did a good thing trying to save her, and they should have praised him for having empathy for a creature who needed help. Now how about we go down to the beach and see about those dogs?”
His exhaustion dissipated, replaced by excitement and the prospect of finally having a pet to call his own.
Ocean shoveled the last three bites of cereal into his mouth, hardly tasting them as he gulped them down, drank what little milk remained in the bottom of the bowl, and took it to the sink, hastily rinsing it and putting it in the dishwasher.
“Can we really keep them?” Ocean asked.
“Only after we do the right thing and take them to the vet to see if they are chipped and check the local pet finder groups to make sure no one is looking for them,” Pope explained.
“There are a lot of reasons for dogs to be roaming that don’t involve owner neglect, so we need to do our due diligence and make sure their humans aren’t frantically trying to find them. ”
Ocean wanted to argue. He’d been able to see one of the poor dog’s ribs.
Deep down though, he knew Pope was right.
Their owners could have had a fire or an emergency on the side of the road somewhere and lost their beloved pets in the process, though he couldn’t help but feel like it would be far more responsible to have put collars with tags on them.
“I guess that’s fair,” he replied and followed Pope to the door.
Outside, there were storm clouds gathering on the horizon, deep gray and angry enough that Ocean could tell it was going to be an inside day.
He led Pope to the dune where he’d left Roan, concern beginning to make him anxious when he didn’t spot him or the dogs anywhere.
It wasn’t until they reached the top of a dune that Ocean could take a full breath again.
Roan lay in the sand, fast asleep, one dog tucked against his belly, Roan’s arm draped over its back, while the other was curled up behind him, head resting on his hip.
Pope put a finger to his lips before Ocean could say anything, pulled the phone from his pocket, and took several photos before softly calling Roan’s name.
The yellow dog’s ear twitched, and it cracked one eye open and whimpered when it saw them there, cringing closer to Roan, who muttered, twitched, and snuggled the black, white and gray dog in his arms. It looked a bit like a husky, though its fur was too matted and filled with burs and twigs to be certain.
“Roan,” Pope called again, never raising his voice or getting too close to the dogs, so Ocean waited beside him, not wanting to spook them.
“Huh?” Roan groaned, shifting a little, before turning his head to look at them. “Ohh, you’re back. We’re not in trouble for the leftovers, are we?”
“No, you are not,” Pope said. “We came to get you and your new friends. Looks like a storm is brewing, and a bad one at that. Let’s get them inside and cleaned up before it hits.”
“Can we keep them?” Roan asked as he stroked the matted fur along the maybe-husky’s side.
“Pope says we can as long as they aren’t chipped and no one’s looking for them,” Ocean said, kneeling when the yellow dog inched closer to him and let him pet him again the way he had when they were playing with him earlier.
“Since it’s Sunday and these guys don’t look to need medical attention, I’ll call in the morning and see when they can fit us in,” Pope said. “Once they’re clean and have had another meal, we’ll sit down and check the websites to see if there are any pictures of them posted.”
“Okay,” Roan said, standing and brushing the sand off his sleep pants. “But we don’t have any dog food.”
“That’s alright; I don’t believe in that processed kibble anyway.
I’ll thaw some meat for them and see if there are any sweet potatoes in the pantry I can roast to go with it,” Pope said.
“Though a trip to the grocery store for more ingredients will need to happen sooner rather than later, since these are pretty big guys and it looks like they’ve been hungry for a while. ”
“I couldn’t find any signs that they’d ever had collars on,” Ocean said. “They were super skittish until they smelled the food. I bet people have scared them away from garbage cans and other places where they’ve tried to forage for something.”
“Well, they will never have to worry about that again,” Pope said. “If they turn out not to belong to anyone, we’ll get collars made for them and tags, though something tells me that these two aren’t likely to wander far once they get a taste of home.”
“Come on, boys,” Ocean said, patting his leg, gently encouraging them to follow.
The husky-looking one balked at first, eyeing Pope, until he held his hand out, letting the dog take his time slowly inching forward until he sniffed it and let Pope stroke his snout.
“Yeah, that’s a good boy,” Pope praised in that same low, comforting voice he’d used when he’d had them on the table playing with the violet wand.
“Everything’s going to be all right now.
Bet you’d like to have those mats out of your fur.
Let’s give you a warm bath and see about getting you straightened out. ”
The dog’s tail, previously tucked tight, began to unfurl and slowly wag the longer he listened to Pope.
Soon, they had the dogs inside, the yellow one in the tub with Pope carefully soaping him up, while Ocean and Roan sat on a bathmat on the floor, picking all the debris out of the husky’s fur.
Ocean was convinced that’s what he was, at least partially.
Cooing to him the whole time, they slowly got the worst of the mess out, while Pope finished washing the yellow one, whose coat looked way brighter by the time Pope finished cleaning the grime off him.
As soon as Pope lifted him out of the tub, he shook himself, sending water droplets everywhere, splattering Ocean and Roan, who immediately started giggling.
“What the…”
They’d been so focused on the dogs that they hadn’t heard the door opening.
Danger stood in the entryway, disheveled and blinking, before he rubbed his eyes, cocked his head, and shot confused looks at all of them.
The husky whined and whirled to his feet, crowding against Ocean, who hugged him and rubbed his ears.
“It’s okay, boy,” Ocean murmured. “He won’t hurt you.”
“We found them on the beach,” Roan said.
“Looks like they’ve been outside for a while,” Danger said as he stepped into the room and sat on the floor so he wouldn’t look as threatening to them.
“Pope says we get to keep them as long as they don’t belong to anyone,” Roan explained, hugging the yellow one, who regarded Danger with wary eyes. “I hope they don’t belong to anyone.”
“Been awhile since I’ve had a dog,” Danger remarked. “Are they boys or girls?”
Even as he asked the question, he tried to peer under the yellow one, but his tail was tucked so tight Ocean doubted he could see anything.
“Boys,” Ocean said as the husky peered out from behind him like he was trying to decide if Danger was friend or foe.
“Hey boy,” Danger said, peering at the yellow one. “Looking kind of wet there. Did you just have a bath?”
As if to answer the question, the dog shook himself again and sprayed Danger, who tried to duck and still got splattered, like everything and everyone else in the bathroom.
As soon as Danger started laughing, the dog woofed and wagged his tail like he was pleased with himself and trotted right over to him like he was greeting an old friend.
Danger started rubbing his ears, and the husky emerged and headed over a bit more cautiously, his bushy tail sending floof in the air when Danger started petting him too.
“You guys are adorable,” Danger said, continuing to lavish attention on them.
He didn’t care that he was getting wet or had a tuft of fur clinging to his hair from the husky’s wagging.
Just like when they’d been part of the story circle, listening to tales of Flaming Betty, he looked happy.
As Ocean watched, Danger leaned close, rubbing noses with the yellow one who licked his face in response.