“No, I heard it.” I scoop my phone off the grass and point the torch in the direction of the noise. At least I hope it’s the same direction. “Come on.”
We follow the path towards the end of my garden. We’re almost at the hedge when we hear it once more.
I have a sinking feeling I know what it is.
And it’s not foxes.
“Is that a dog?” Charlie whispers, already crouching down.
“I think so.” I grab his arm as he reaches out. “Careful. It could bite.”
It might be dark, but I can still see his raised eyebrows. “Is it going to be less likely to bite you? Because we both know we’re not leaving it out here.”
I sigh. He has a point. I still don’t want either of us to reach in and get our fingers bitten off though.
In the end, it doesn’t matter.
The bushes move and the sorriest-looking dirty-yellow dog crawls out, straight into my lap.
“Ohh.”
Yeah.
Pretty sure we both melt on the spot.
“We need to get him—her?—inside.” Charlie nudges me. “Right?”
“Yeah.” Very carefully, I shrug out of my hoodie and use it to wrap around the dog. “I think it’s a he.” His tail starts to slowly wag as Charlie helps me stand up, like he knows he’s safe. Sean has told me more than one fucking awful story about people abandoning their dogs out here. That’s how he ended up with Lucky. I really hope nobody left this poor baby out to fend for himself in this cold.
As soon as we get inside, I set him on the floor and get him some water.
I lean against the counter, and when Charlie comes to stand next to me, it seems only natural to wrap my arm around him. We both watch as the dog drains the bowl dry.
“Wow. He was thirsty.”
“Yeah.”
When the dog flops on the floor next to the water bowl, I scratch my chin, thinking. “He’s got to be hungry too.”
“For sure.”
Of course, I don’t have any dog food stashed away anywhere, but I reckon I have some cooked chicken. I get it from the fridge and show it to Charlie. “You think this’ll be okay?”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“If he’s been outside for a while, he’s probably eaten worse.” Or nothing at all. Judging by the way he’s watching the chicken in my hand and drooling, I’m leaning towards the latter.
Bending down, I break up a couple of slices into bits and set them on the floor.
They disappear in seconds.
I give him a couple extra slices, but no more. I don’t want him to be sick. I stroke his head, and his tail starts wagging again. By this point, I’m convinced he doesn’t have a nasty bone in his body.
Charlie crouches next to me. “What are we going to do with him?”
Thatwemakes me all warm inside. But it’s bittersweet too, because it’s Friday today, and Charlie leaves tomorrow. I clear my throat. “We need to take him to see Jerry.”
“He’s the vet, yeah?”
