We reached the dog side, and the noise grew louder, as if the dogs had a sixth sense for visitors and were determined to greet us collectively.
The volunteer opened the door and the barking surged. A dozen tails thumped against kennel walls. Several noses pressed between metal bars, snuffling furiously like we were smuggling sausages in our pockets.
Ephram’s posture went straighter.
“You’re doing it again,” I murmured.
“I am not,” he murmured back then blinked. “What am I doing?”
“You look like you’re about to brief a SWAT team and it has to be perfect,” I commented.
“I don’t brief SWAT teams.”
“You would if someone asked,” I said, and stepped forward before he could decide whether to be offended.
The volunteer led us down the aisle, calling out greetings to the dogs like she knew them personally. Some jumped, some spun in circles, some barked so loudly I felt it in my teeth.
“This is Maple Ridge Animal Shelter’s dog wing,” I said into the camera as I walked, keeping my voice bright. “And as you can hear, no one here is suffering from a lack of enthusiasm.”
A big brown dog threw itself against the kennel door like it was auditioning for a wrestling match.
Ephram flinched.
I kept the camera pointed toward him for half a second longer than necessary.
He gave me a look that said,stop that.
I widened my eyes innocently.
We filmed a few clips of the kennels, a volunteer introducing one dog with a sweet story, another dog refusing to cooperate by sitting down and presenting its backside to the camera. Ephram tried to look approachable and kept ending up with theexpression of a man who had agreed to something he didn’t fully understand.
A volunteer approached us with three leashes looped over her arm. “We can take a few out for exercise if you want outside footage.”
“Yes,” I said immediately.
Ephram hesitated.“Outside.With leashes.”
The volunteer smiled as she clipped a leash onto a dog. “They’re friendly.”
That didn’t seem to be Ephram’s primary concern, but he nodded anyway accepting a leash from her.
The volunteer handed me a leash. “This is Atlas. He’s strong but sweet.”
Atlas was a large breed, all muscle and happy determination, with the kind of energy that suggested he had been waiting his whole life for precisely this moment. His tail wagged like it might detach.
“He’s beautiful,” I said.
Atlas leaned forward and sneezed directly onto my coat.
Ephram made a sound that might have been a laugh disguised as a cough.
The volunteer handed Ephram another leash. “That’s Daisy. She’s gentle. Just likes to sniff everything.”
Daisy looked at Ephram with calm eyes and sat down as if she was willing to cooperate if he didn’t make it weird.
Ephram relaxed slightly. “Okay. That seems manageable.”
The volunteer held up the third leash. “And this is Moose.”
