“Grown-up dogs are cute too,” Andi said. “Just look at Ketchup.”
“Ketchup is definitely cute.” I agreed.
“That name, though,” Romeo muttered.
Trent made a sound of agreement.
Rude.
Lolo suddenly stood and handed the puppy in her arms off to her mother, then went down the hall.
“Strawberry, where you going?” Romeo called.
London looked over her shoulder. “To pick an older dog. I don’t want them to feel left out.”
Romeo turned his eyes to his wife. “She’s killing me, smalls.”
Rimmel sniffled and pushed to her feet, nearly pitching sideways when the puppy in her arms started wiggling to get down. I grabbed her arms to steady her, and she smiled, sheepish. “Thanks. You mind?” she asked, pushing the dog into my chest.
I couldn’t exactly say no, so I tucked her into my chest. A wide, wet tongue dragged along my chin and up to my lower lip.
“Ack,” I said, turning my face.
The puppy’s tail beat against my stomach.
“She likes you, Dad!” Andi said.
“This one is a troublemaker,” Trent declared and pointed to one tugging on his shoelaces and growling like it was vicious.
A few minutes later, London, Romeo, and Rimmel appeared from the hall with a dog trotting along beside London.
“This is Sampson,” she told us, laying her hand on his head, which was about hip high to her. He was all black with a patch of white on his chest and nose. He had short hair, but it somehow looked wild. “He’s three years old, and he’s coming home with us.”
Sampson looked up at her like she hung the moon and stars, and when she leaned down to hug him, he licked her nose.
“You sure he’s the one you want?” Romeo asked.
London gasped and put her hands over the dog’s ears. “Dad! You’ll hurt his feelings.” She pulled her hands away. “Of course he is! Just look at him! He’s the most handsome dog ever!”
Andi ran over and patted his head. He licked her too.
“Who wants to help me wrangle these puppies back into their condo?”
Rimmel called all the rooms the dogs stayed in “condos.” She said it was nicer than calling them cages or kennels.
Once they were secured, Andi raced to the other end of the shelter where the cat condos were, and we watched her greet all five that were there.
“That one is hiding, Aunt Rimmel,” Andi said, pointing through the glass at one of the condos in the back.
Rimmel nodded. “She’s very shy. She doesn’t come out much. I think this place is a little noisy for her.”
“Can I go in there?” Andi asked.
“Sure,” Rimmel said. “But don’t be sad if she won’t come out. Some animals just need space.”
After punching in the code, the door swung open, and Andi stepped inside the small room. I moved closer to watch through the glass, and Trent did the same.
Andi walked to the back of the condo and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her. After a minute, she called to the cat softly.
