“Got it.”
Travis spins back, like he just thought of something. "Speaking of the Eagles, I got an interesting phone call." His tone darkens in a way I don't like. "A guy called in to report one of our staff members for lying about an animal, and he had some sort of story about getting harassed in the parking lot by a couple of bikers. Since you’re the only woman working here, I’m going to have to assume he meant you.”
Oh no. "I didn't?—"
"I backed you up, by the way. Told him we didn’t have his dog.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks down at me. "Was that a lie?"
"He couldn’t even give me her name." I roll my eyes at him. "So yeah. The bikers were here because they found a stray. She was in rough shape and I suspected she’d escaped from someone breeding dogs for guarding and fighting. If you saw her, you’d understand. She’s so sweet. I just want to give her a chance.”
"Sandra, we can't save every dog that comes in here with a sad story. If that dog actually belongs to him, taking it is theft. Where is she now?”
This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything to Travis. I know he must care about the animals or he wouldn’t work here,but sometimes I think he’s too focused on the business side and not enough on the reason we’re here in the first place.
I cross my arms over my chest and look him in the eyes. “I placed her temporarily with a foster home. If he comes back with some kind of proof, I’ll do what I have to do, but I won’t apologize for trying to keep her safe.”
“You’re going to owe me. Stunts like this put the whole shelter’s reputation on the line.”
"Did you know the guy who called?” Part of the conversation with the man who came looking for Junkyard has stuck with me. He’d specifically asked for Travis.
Travis scowls. “Of course not. I took his number and told him I’d call him if I had more information.” He reaches out and strokes a hand down my arm, leaving it resting near my elbow. “I understand that you’re trying to save the world, and I think it’s admirable, but you need to think about the big picture. Every animal we take in costs space and resources. If you want to stick around you need to accept that you can save more dogs by focusing on the ones that are most adoptable. With time you’ll either get a feel for it, or burn out.”
He’s not wrong, but it doesn’t feel completely right, either. Unfortunately, he’s my boss and I want to keep this job for now. So I nod. "Okay. I'll keep it in mind."
"Good. Make sure you do." He seems to run out of steam, like he's not sure where to take this further. After an awkward pause, he turns away, heading back to the front office. "Anyway, I have to run out and get the materials printed for our auction entry. It’s too late to change what you did, butpleaseconsider the bigpicture next time. If this blows up in our faces, Iwillthrow you under the bus if it means keeping us out of trouble."
Fine.
I get the golden tucked away in a kennel and start taking some of the other residents out for walks around the yard. By the time I’m done, Travis has left. Carl’s coming in to cover the late shift, and I have something I want to do while there’s nobody around to see me. I log myself out of our shelter management software, and log back in as Travis—hey, if the guy didn’t want us doing it, he shouldn’t have his password on a sticky note stuck to his monitor.
I haven’t even been working here for half a year yet. Maybe he’s right and I’m not seeing the forest for the trees, but maybe there could be better ways to do things. With his log-in, I can get access to more of the data, including historical information. I’m not really a computer person, and I’m not even one hundred percent sure what I’m looking for, but I scroll through our resolved case history, waiting for something to pop out at me.
My phone dings. The sudden sound makes me jump and sends my heart racing. I’d make a horrible spy. It’s a notification from Piston, adding me to a group chat with Beast and Zero. The name of the group chat changes to Team Junkyard.
Piston:You ready for tonight?
Me:My shift is done at seven.
Zero:Oh, now I’m part of the group. I get it.
Beast:What app is this? Can I turn off the sounds?
I shake my head, laughing quietly. How is this my life now?
All the entries blend together. There are a few names that keep popping up, but I don’t know all of the foster homes. Frustrated, I switch users again and leave the computer.
Me:I don’t have to be dressed up or anything, right?
Piston:No shirt, no shoes, no service.
Zero:No pants, no problem.
Beast:We’re taking the bikes, so jeans would be good.
Zero:Who taught you how to flirt online?
Beast:?
When Carl shows up, I duck into the bathroom to change. I swap my sneakers for black boots with a little heel, and my work t-shirt for a black and red lacy tank top that shows off the jewel in my belly button. I touch up my makeup, adding a wing to my eyeliner, and some glitter to my cheeks. Maybe I’m not quite a biker chick, but close enough when I add the short leather jacket I stole from Natalie’s closet.
