Moose came bounding around the corner like a freight train made of joy.
Ephram’s eyes widened.
“Moose is also friendly,” the volunteer said quickly. “He just… doesn’t understand personal space.”
“I don’t understand Moose,” Ephram muttered.
The volunteer clipped Moose to the leash and handed it to Ephram. “You can let them off leash to play in the yard but they need to be on leash to come back inside.”
We stepped out into the fenced yard behind the shelter, the cold air biting after the warmth inside. The ground was a mix of frozen dirt and damp patches where the sun had softened the top layer enough to become mud again.
I started filming again, panning over the dogs as they moved through the yard, sniffing, trotting, stopping to investigate leaves like they contained secrets. Ephram walked carefully, Daisy sniffing the ground with the seriousness of a detective.
“This,” I said into the camera, “is why we’re doing this. Because these dogs aren’t just barking behind kennels. They’re ready for homes. They’re ready for people.”
Atlas chose that moment to lunge toward a patch of grass as if it had insulted him.
I dug my heels in.
Atlas did not care.
The leash went taut, my arms jerked forward, and before I could decide whether I was going to let go or be dragged, Atlas made the decision for me.
I moved.Fast.
“Atlas,” I gasped, half laughing, half panicking. “Atlas, please—”
He surged again.
My boots hit mud and slid. I windmilled my arms, camera clutched in one hand, trying to maintain dignity like it was a physical object I could hold onto.
“Lydia,” Ephram called sharply.
“It’s fine,” I yelled back, which was clearly a lie.
Atlas bolted, and I went with him, the leash yanking me forward. The world narrowed to cold air, barking, and the absolute certainty that I was about to become a cautionary tale.
One second I was upright, the next my feet shot out from under me and I landed in the mud with an undignified thump.
The camera tilted wildly, catching a blur of sky, fence, and then my own horrified face.
Atlas stopped, turned, and stared at me as if I had chosen this for entertainment.
“Of course,” I said to him, breathless. “Of course you would pause now.”
I heard footsteps pounding across the yard.
Ephram.
He reached me quickly, still holding Dasey and Moose’s leashes, his expression a mix of alarm and disbelief. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said, sitting up and immediately realizing how much mud was now on the back of my coat and my hands. “Just my pride.”
He extended a hand. I took it.
The moment he pulled me up, Atlas decided the game was back on.
He lunged again.
