A friend for life

Dogs were barking, their howls echoing off the navy painted brick. They were up against the bars jumping and yapping at my Dad, sister, and I. The noise surrounded us as fluffy four-legged animals begged for our attention, tails whisking back and forth quickly as we approached and then slowing as we passed. A few times we stopped, examined the laminated charts hanging from the vertical cages. Too old, too young, too noisy; too small. On the return trip down the left aisle there was one who didn’t clamor for attention; my family passed this dog by; I stopped. 

The pet was a dark foxy brown, its ears were flattened and faced outwards rather than up or down. Its tail, curled and bushy, wrapped around its slim body, its face burrowed into its side. Its dark brown eyes watched in sadness and defeat as it lay its back pushed up against the corner of the spacious cage.

I bent down, lowered my head close to the ground, and stretched out my palm. “Come here baby. Come here girl.” I glanced up at the paper hanging by the lock. “Come here Potter.” The dog’s ears perked and she rose stalking low over to the bars. Her tail wagged slowly. She put her forehead into my hand and closed her eyes. I lit up. “Good dog! Good girl Potter!” My sister and Dad stopped and wandered back over, my sister bent down to my height, my Dad examined the chart.

“What’s his name?” “Her name’s Potter. Isn’t she cute?” “Actually Potter’s a boy.” My heart sank a little. We’d hope to find a girl, better chance she’d get along with our current dog Buddy. “Good age though, only two years.” My sister and I continued rubbing Potter as my Dad called over an employee. “We’d like to meet this one please.”

March 2016

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