3. Lucy
Lucy
Iwalk into the entrance of Alpine Animal Rescue. I give a small smile and wave to Liz, the receptionist, before making my way to the back, where the dogs are.
When I make it to Wally’s kennel, my heart breaks. He’s curled up in a ball in the corner, staring at the wall with the saddest eyes.
My throat tightens. I open up the gate and step in. When he sees me, his head pops up, and he jumps to his feet. His tail wags as he runs up to me. I drop to the floor and grab his face, showering him in kisses.
“Hey, buddy,” I say softly. “It’s so good to see you.”
He’s making that happy panting noise he always makes when I visit him. When he licks my face, I can’t help but chuckle. God, it feels good to laugh after how awful this morning was.
I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into his soft, long, floppy ears.
He makes that happy whining noise he always makes when I greet him.
He knocks me to the ground out of sheer excitement.
I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight.
He’s a bloodhound mixed with some smaller dog breed, so he’s half the size of a purebred bloodhound, but when he’s excited, he’s just as strong.
“I missed you so, so much,” I say as I kiss his head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you yesterday. I was working. But I’ll stay longer today. I promise.”
We cuddle on the ground for a while before I stand up and grab his leash out of my jacket pocket. I hook it onto his collar and lead him out back to the outdoor play area. Then I take him on our usual walk.
My chest aches as I watch him happily trot along the sidewalk, stopping to sniff the grass every few seconds. I wish I could walk him every day. I wish I could have him with me.
But I can’t because I live in my car, and the Humane Society won’t let you adopt an animal unless you have a verifiable address.
Even though Wally has always belonged to me.
I think about that day six years ago—my fifteenth birthday—when my dad surprised me with Wally as a puppy. Best gift ever.
And then I think about that day, two years later, when he died of pancreatic cancer. How it happened so fast, just three months after his diagnosis.
That’s when my whole world fell apart.
Mom was paralyzed by grief. She didn’t get out of bed for weeks after he did. And when she did, she couldn’t speak.
I tried to take care of her. I fed her and helped her get dressed. I talked to her even when she didn’t talk back. For months, she was completely shut down. Numb. Shattered.
But then, slowly, she started coming out of her grief. Started working again. Started laughing and smiling and joking.
I thought she was going to be okay. But then she met Richard.
When I think about how quickly he charmed my mom, how fast she fell for him, and then married him, I feel sick to my stomach. He’s the reason she’s dead.
And when I think about what he did to me after she died…how he kicked me out of my own house…how he dropped Wally off at the pound to be euthanized, I want to vomit. I want to rage. I want to scream until my lungs collapse. I want to punch a hole through the nearest wall.
I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding and aching all at once. I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up the photo I’ve looked at a million times. It’s the background of my phone screen too.
It’s a picture of me, my dad, my mom, and Wally as a puppy, sitting in front of the Christmas tree, smiling and laughing. Our first Christmas with Wally. When everything was perfect.
A sob catches in my throat. I don’t even have the original photo. This is just a picture I took of the framed photo, which is still at my house. The house my stepdad is living in and kicked me out of two years ago, after my mom died.
That picture is still there, along with all the other photos of my family that he didn’t let me take when he kicked me out. My mom’s belongings are there too. So are my dad’s.
And I’ll never get them back, ever. Not after the way my stepdad made sure to cut me off.
Wally tugs on his leash, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. He watches a bird fly over us, then jumps to try and catch it.
A sad smile pulls at my lips. I lean down and pet him. “Nice try, buddy.”
I kiss the top of his head, my heart aching. He’s all I’ve got now.
I walk him for an hour before we head back to the shelter. We’re headed down the hallway back to the kennel when one of the vet techs stops me.
I wave at her. “Hi, Amy.”
“Hi, Lucy.” She gives Wally a scratch behind his ears. “Wally, buddy, did you have a good walk?” She looks at me like she’s going to say something, but she hesitates.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s just been a busy day.” She clears her throat. “So how’s the apartment hunting going?”
I try to smile, hoping my expression doesn’t look too strained. “It’s going okay. I’ve got a few places lined up to look at soon,” I lie.
Amy and the rest of the staff here at the animal rescue have been so kind to let Wally stay in their kennel these past few months. I’ve already paid his adoption fee, but I can’t take him with me yet because I still need to find a place to live.
She sighs like she’s relieved. “How soon do you think you’d be able to take Wally home?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Why?”
Her expression turns concerned. “We’re running into a bit of an issue. I’m sure you know how crowded the rescue can get. There are always dogs and puppies being dropped off here. We need to free up the space to accommodate them. Which means Wally will need to go soon.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh…”
She gives my arm an affectionate squeeze. “I don’t mean to stress you out about this. I know you’re in between places at the moment, but the sooner you can move into an apartment, the better it will be.”
“Right. Of course.” I try not to sound too panicked. “Um, how much time do I have?”
“I’d say about a month, max.”
Dread slices through me. One month to earn enough money to put a deposit on an apartment? Shit.
My mind races to think of a quick fix, but I come up with nothing.
Because I’ve tried everything. I can’t live with him in my car.
I did that before, and I got in trouble with the city.
Someone reported me for sleeping at a parking lot one night with him, and when the police came to ticket me, they told me I needed to find a home for Wally; otherwise, I’d be arrested for animal endangerment.
That’s when I showed up at the shelter, begging them to take Wally.
I paid his adoption fee ahead of time, then promised to come get him when I had my own place.
That was months ago.
I swallow through the urge to cry. “Okay, so I need to get him out of here in a month?”
“Yeah. Sooner if possible, but I was able to talk the veterinarians on staff into making it a month,” Amy says. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“Don’t be. You’ve been wonderful.”
She walks off. I take Wally back to his kennel. I dig a few treats from the pocket of my jacket and feed them to him.
I was going to sit with him for a little longer, but I can’t. I need to leave to find a job so I can get the money for a new place ASAP.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes. Then I hold his floppy, droopy face.
“I’ll be back for you soon, I promise,” I whisper.
When I walk out of the kennel, he tries to follow me. He whines as I close the door, and my heart breaks.
“I’m sorry, Wally. I love you,” I say through the gate, struggling to hold it together.
I ignore his sad cries and force myself to walk away. A sob catches in my throat. Every cell in my body aches to run back to Wally and take him with me…
But I can’t.
I climb into my car and take a breath. My mind is racing because I’m so stressed and panicked…But I need to calm down.
Think, Lucy. Where can I go to find a job?
A second later, it hits me. I turn on my car and drive toward Hollis U. Every time I drive by the campus, I always see “help wanted” signs. I’ll apply for all of them. At least one of them will hire me.
I stop at the first one I see. A diner on the edge of campus called the Mile High Diner.
Once I’m inside, I run up to the hostess stand. “I saw your sign out front. You’re hiring?”