next morning like it was any other day. First I took care of the smaller dogs in the house—letting them out for a few minutes, then feeding them in the kitchen. The Chihuahuas had to be monitored because they would try to steal food from the other dogs, especially poor Slinky. Once they were fed I went out to the barn and let all the larger dogs loose in the field. My breath fogged in front of my face; it was a brisk thirty-something degrees out.
The big dogs were easier to feed, so long as I made sure they all went back to their proper enclosures. Maddie, the Golden Retriever, got so excited at feeding time that she usually ran into the first enclosure she saw in order to get food—even if it wasn’t hers. Sometimes I felt like a boxing referee making sure everyone went to their separate corners, but overall it wasn’t too difficult. I had a good group of dogs here.
After they ate, I threw the frisbee with the retrievers. A big pack of six shot across the field to catch the frisbee, while four of the herding dogs—two German Shepherds, a Border Collie, and an Australian Shepherd—chased after them, nipping at their haunches.
I threw the frisbee for twenty minutes. That was long enough for me to monitor the group, watching for any limps or other visible injuries. Everyone looked good except for Checkers, a Chocolate Lab who was licking at a hotspot on his leg. I leashed him and took him back into the barn to wrap the hotspot in gauze.
“If you keep worrying at this, I’m going to have to give you the cone of shame,” I said while scratching him behind the ear. “Trust me, you don’t want that. So be good, okay?”
Checkers jumped up on his hind legs and licked my face.
I let the dogs roam free in the field and went back inside. I turned the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and got to work in the kitchen. I wasn’t going to let my breakup with Pierce ruin the amazing meal I had planned, even if I had to eat it all by myself.
I prepped the turkey and put it in the oven. Next I baked two pies, one apple and the other chocolate. The side dishes took a while; green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and mashed sweet potatoes with brown sugar and marshmallows on top. I watched the dogs through the window as I cooked. The two German Shepherds were chasing each other in the field, while the other big dogs laid out in the sun.
I smiled to myself. Even if they were never adopted, this was a much better life for them than sitting in cages all day at the Flagstaff Animal Shelter.
The farm was peaceful. Everything was quiet except for the occasional bark or yelp from one of the animals. I was relaxed and happy.
But as I took the turkey out of the oven and sat down to eat by myself, I couldn’t help but feel lonely.
6
Christie
Even though stores opened at midnight for Black Friday, there was no point in setting up my gift-wrapping tables early in the morning. The crowds were usually too crazy then, and most shoppers who were up that early were in too much of a hurry to stop and get their purchases gift-wrapped. Over the years I had learned that seven o’clock was about the best time to start.
But I woke up to bad news.
Of the four tables I was setting up, three of my volunteers had canceled. One thought he had food poisoning from his wife’s under-cooked turkey, and the other two gave vague excuses about how something had come up and they couldn’t help me anymore.
“People aren’t reliable,” I told Slinky as I let the small dogs out. “That’s why I like animals.”
Slinky rubbed his long body against my ankle in agreement.
Bonny arrived at six-thirty. “You missed a heck of a meal,” she told me while getting out of her truck.
“I bet I did. Listen, I had a bunch of volunteers bail on me and I’m scrambling to cover the gift-wrapping tables. Can you handle the shelter alone today?”
Bonny chewed the inside of her cheek. “Kind of a busy day for you to be out, boss. I’ve got to repair the fence where the dogs have been digging, we’re behind on poop-scooping, and we have seven vaccinations to give today…”
“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m sorry, but today’s one