“Of course,” Ransom said. “Thanks for thinking of me. And I brought some crates and toys and a couple of leads. They’re in the truck, but you can take a look when we’re done. If there’s anything you can use, it’s all yours.”
“You’re an angel,” Helena said. “I really appreciate that.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Just things I can’t use anymore.”
“You know as well as I do that the animals here need every bit of help they can get,” she said as she led him back through the staff door and down a hallway of cages.
He tried and failed not to look at the animals inside. Helena ran a tight ship. The cages were clean as a whistle and the pets inside each had warm bedding and a toy or two.
But what they really wanted was a family. He wished he could take every one of them.
“Here we are,” Helena said. “I hope you don’t mind meeting outside, but I thought you’d like to really be able to work with her.”
“Definitely,” Ransom said as the most beautiful black and white border collie made a beeline for him.
The wide smile on her sweet face and the speed with which she was hurtling across the yard told him that he’d better brace himself if he didn’t want to get knocked down.
But before she got to him, she leaped in the air andlanded in a seated position at his feet, like a writer dotting an “i” with a flourish.
She smiled up at him, ears down, tail sweeping the snow, as if she was excited to see what he thought of that demonstration.
“Good girl,” he told her. “What a good dog.”
When he crouched to pat her, she stayed where she was and let him give her a good scratch, leaning into his hand while he gave her a once-over.
“She’s very sweet,” he said to Helena.
“Strong and healthy too, according to our volunteer vets,” she told him, a hint of pride in her voice. “She was picked up out in Ohio and brought here since we’re a no-kill and we had space. No microchip, no nothing.”
“Does someone miss you, sweetheart?” he asked the dog. “What’s your name?”
“We’ve been calling her Shadow,” Helena said. “Take a little walk and you’ll see why.”
Ransom straightened up and strode across the snowy yard.
He could sense the dog moving to follow him instantly. She moved right along with him, almost in aheelingposition, but further out from his side.
He tried moving differently, but she held her position perfectly, even when he sped up, slowed down, and moved side to side.
“Interesting,” he said.
“She’s almost heeling,” Helena said. “Isn’t that funny?”
“I think sheisheeling,” Ransom told her. “But she’s giving space, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s used toworking with someone who uses a wheelchair. If that’s the case, she was trained to leave more room so the wheel won’t hit her and she won’t be bumped by a door.”
“My goodness,” Helena breathed. “Do you think that could be it?”
“It could,” he said. “Though she’s also hanging back a bit, and if she’d been trained by a pro for wheelchair work that position should actually be slightly forward.”
“Do you think her owner trained her?” Helena wondered.
But Ransom wasn’t sure. He tried a few commands, likesit, lie down,andwait.
Shadow eagerly did as she was told each time.
“You’resucha good dog,” he told her, stopping at last to pat her and play a little.
“She is, isn’t she?” Helena said fondly.
