When the door shut behind her I gave David my full attention. “What’s going on?”
He shuffled his feet and crossed his arms. David was one of those clients who seemed to have a wall up, and no matter how hard I tried I knew I’d never truly connect with him. Carly had joked that he looked like a police sketch of a window peeper, complete with a not ironic Members Only jacket and oversized square glasses. I was happy that he kept showing up to class despite the fact that neither he nor his dog seemed particularly excited to be there. His face was normally expressionless, like he was bored, but now I could see that something was brewing in his eyes. After six years dealing with new-puppy crises I felt confident that I could help him weather whatever it was that had him tracking me down at the end of class. Especially because Edith was the cutest Boston I’d ever seen and she deserved every chance to live her best life.
“So, uh...” David glanced around the room again to make sure everyone else had left. He took a deep breath. “I just got a new job and I’m moving and I don’t think I can take Edith with me.”
It came out in a stream of words, like he’d rehearsed it a few times before actually saying it to me.
“Wow, okay. Congrats on the job. And don’t worry, I might be able to help out so you can keep Edith. Where are you headed?”
“Florida.”
He didn’t seem happy about it, but then again, I wouldn’t be eager to relocate from bucolic Wismer to always hot Florida either.
“So is it a matter of your living space not allowing dogs? Or do you think your job will keep you away from her for too long during the day? Which is your bigger concern?”
“Um, both.”
His eyes darted down to Edith and she glanced up at him, a shared moment of connection. When he’d filled out the class paperwork he’d written that he’d gotten Edith at “a breeder in Lancaster,” which I knew was code for a puppy mill. While Edith looked perfectly perfect now, I was all too aware of the hidden health concerns that could crop up due to her sketchy origin as she got older.
“Okay, so have you checked with your building or landlord to see if there’s a size limit? Some apartments allow smaller dogs even though they might advertise no dogs. And as far as leaving her alone all day, I can refer you to a pet sitter organization that has a search by zip—”
“That’s not going to work.”
He was antsier now, shifting his weight and running his hand through his shaggy hair over and over.
“Are you locked into your new place?” I asked gently, because he looked like he was ready to run away from me. “Because maybe you could—”
“It’srehab!” he yelled at me, clearly frustrated with my inability to take a hint. “I’m going to rehab, okay? She can’t come with me.” His shout echoed around the room.
I froze. Now I got it. The disconnection, the wall. David had been fighting a battle and we’d never had a clue.
“Oh.”
He stared at me, which I took as an invitation to babble.
“I’m, uh, I’m sorry to hear it. Or maybe I should say good for you, because that’s... that’s a big step. It’s going to be tough, but you’re doing the right thing. Hope is the only thing stronger than fear, you know? You’vegotthis.”
Everything I said sounded stupid, like I’d cribbed it off a “You’re strong af” inspirational wooden wall hanging from Marshalls. I had no clue what to say to someone in David’s position and the more I talked the more obvious it became. David only nodded his head in response, looking uncomfortable that he’d had to tell me, a stranger who couldn’t shut up.
“I need to do something with her.” He nodded toward Edith. “Find her a new home.”
Ah. And there it was.
“Any family...?” I trailed off. If he had family he would’ve asked them first. I didn’t need to ask about friends because he probably would’ve exhausted that option as well.
“I put some pictures of her up on Facebook and said I was looking for a good home for her, and I got, like, two hundred responses, but I don’t have the time to go through all of them.”
“When do you head out?”
“Tomorrow.”
The word hung in the air, and suddenly I understood why he’d seemed so nervous. It wasn’t just that he was uprooting his life to try to heal himself, it was because he was desperate to find a home for Edith. And the clock had essentially wound all the way down.
“Would you... would you want to take her?” David asked, his hope and desperation clear. “Could you?”
Apuppy? Now?
As much as I adored them I knew firsthand how much work they were. There was a reason why my dog, Birdie, had been approaching middle age when I’d brought her home from the shelter in Philly. The silver on her face and paws seemed to be doubling every year, but I appreciated her slow-lane approachto life. It was exactly what I needed as I’d grown the School of Frolic. At the end of the day I didn’t have the bandwidth to manage potty training challenges, needle-sharp teeth, and the adolescent temper tantrums that followed.
