Arcadia's Gift - By Jesi Lea Ryan Page 0,26
along off-key. I swung through a McDonald's drive through for a yogurt parfait before heading out to Dubuque County Animal Sanctuary, located on the north edge of town.
Dr. Kristy Fineman's face lit up when she saw me walk in the door. Bronwyn and I started volunteering at the shelter the summer after eighth grade. Last year, Dr. Kristy put us on the payroll. It was only ten hours a week at minimum wage, but I loved animals so much that I would’ve continued working for nothing.
"Cady!" The thin woman in a white doctor's coat rounded the corner of the reception desk to draw me into a big hug. Dr. Kristy and her husband, Mark, were both at the funeral, but I hadn’t seen them since. "It's so good to see you!"
"Don't squish my breakfast," I said snatching the paper bag out from between us. "Well, I think I can handle dogs better than my classmates today, so thought I'd come in for a few hours."
Dr. Kristy drew back and checked me over thoughtfully as if I were one of her patients. Faint crow’s feet lined the corners of her eyes; giving the impression her face was a perpetual smile.
"Well, I know Murphy will be glad to see you."
Murphy was a goofy Labrador with large floppy feet and one ear that stuck up in the air. Dr. Kristy’s brother owned him, but he traveled a lot for work, so he kennels Murphy here at the shelter frequently.
"I just want to eat my breakfast, and then I can take a group out for a walk."
"No problem," Dr. Kristy replied, patting my arm. "I have a few appointments this morning, and then Gina is going to assist me on a couple neuters. Sarah will be here soon to watch the desk."
I carried my breakfast into the break room where I poured myself a cup of Columbian brew from the pot on the counter and ate. When I finished, I set out on my rounds of checking the cat cages. I filled food and water dishes, scooped the litter boxes and wiped down the interiors. The kitties wound themselves around my ankles rubbing their faces on my pant legs. I scratched each set of ears before depositing them back into their cages.
When I finished giving the cats some love, I walked out back to the dog kennels. A cacophony of excited barks and whines greeted my arrival. There were two long rows of high-fenced enclosures with metal roofs that rumbled like rocket engines when it rained. The shelter also had indoor kennels for overnights and two large paddocks where dogs could run and play in groups. I walked up and down the row greeting and petting the dogs I recognized and introducing myself to the new arrivals by letting them sniff my fist. Murphy spotted me approaching the enclosure where he lounged with a gray bulldog named Tank and Dr. Kristy’s terrier mutt called Lucy, who came to work with the doc every day. The happy lab leaped to his feet and stood on his hind legs, paws on the fence and tongue dangling happily from his mouth.
"Hey, Murph! How's my boy?" I said as I unlocked the gate and entered the enclosure. The three dogs swarmed around my legs yipping and doing the puppy two-step for attention. I petted each of them in turn, before fastening their leashes and leading them out to the trails behind the shelter.
Dr. Kristy and Mark had inherited the three hundred acre farm a few years back from some relative. Uninterested in farming, they leveled the dilapidated farm buildings, constructed the shelter and clinic, and created walking trails which twisted through the woods and over-grown pasture land.
The three dogs and I strolled along the dirt path, the noise of the forest humming around us. Tank strained at his leash, wanting to chase squirrels, and then pouted when I wouldn't let him loose. As we approached a rocky incline, I scooped up Lucy to carry her. It was then that I discovered something odd.
Running my hand along Lucy's velvet belly, I felt a buzzing coldness radiating out from her compact body. It made my palm prick and tingle. Something tickled in the back of my mind, something bad.
I set the dog down. She stared up at me with her pointed nose. She didn't appear different than she did any other day. Quickly wrapping Murphy’s and Tank's leashes around the branches of a low bush, I knelt down next to