Neither of us said a word as the reality of that statement sank in. It was rough being at the mercy of donations and sponsors. Maybe Alex did know a thing or two about my situation.
“You want to meet some of the dogs?” I asked.
He nodded, his eyes lighting up a bit.
“Okay, but it’s about to get really loud.” I pushed into the back area where the kennels were. The dogs began to bark just like they did every single time I entered the back room. “You’d think they’d get used to me coming back here.”
“What?” He leaned closer, unable to hear me due to the noise.
“I said, you’d think they wouldn’t bark every single time I come back here.”
“One good thing about penguins”—he nudged his chin upward—“no barking.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I reached Buster’s cage. The dog’s head rested on top of his paws. He wasn’t one to bark; he barely lifted his chin as we stopped in front of his kennel.
“This is Buster.” I wrapped my hand around the bar on his cage. His tongue slowly lapped at my fingers. “He likes belly rubs, watching reality TV, and hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows.”
“Really?” Alex let out a laugh. “How do you know that, exactly?”
“I take a different dog home with me each night so they get some time out of the shelter. It’s good for them to be exposed to what it’s like to be in a house instead of a cage. Some of them have spent their whole lives in kennels like this.”
“Why?” Alex stuck a finger through the squares of the cage. “Why get a dog if you’re only going to keep it locked up?”
I used to wonder the same thing. But then I learned about dog fighting. “A lot of these pups came from dog-fighting rings. They’re raised for the sole purpose of competing for their owners.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Alex’s brow furrowed.
My heart squeezed at the show of concern. “Yep. But it doesn’t stop them. Sometimes one escapes or gets dumped somewhere and we find them. Then they get rehabilitated and have a chance at a good life with a family and a real home.”
“Wow. What made you want to run a dog rescue?”
“I’ve always loved animals”—I unlatched Buster’s cage—“and when I found myself back in Texas, I wanted to do something that would make a difference.” If I didn’t turn the conversation soon, we’d be trekking over some sensitive territory and I wasn’t ready for that yet, maybe not ever. “You want to pet him?”
At Alex’s nod, I swung the door of Buster’s crate open. The dog, who could have passed for comatose a moment before, jumped to his feet and sprang out of the crate. He attacked me first in a flurry of slobbery kisses. Then he turned his affection on Alex. By the time I caught Buster’s attention and got himinto a sit-stay, Alex had been knocked onto his back by the overzealous pup.
“He must like you.”
“Really?” Alex got to his feet, wiping slobber off his chin. “I’d hate to see what he’d do to someone he didn’t like.”
“Buster, come.” I held out my hand, and Buster moved forward a few feet, then sat in front of me. “That’s better.”
“Are they all so . . . enthusiastic?” Alex asked.
“No. Buster’s one of my ambassadors. He usually makes a good impression on people.”
“What’s his story?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know. He showed up one day undernourished with a bunch of scars on his nose and one ear ripped to shreds. I’m not sure if he was part of a dog-fighting ring or if he was just a stray. We got some weight on him and taught him some manners. He’s been available for adoption for a few months but hasn’t had any takers.”
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Alex ruffled the short hair behind Buster’s good ear. “Seems like a lovable guy.”
“He is. If we can teach him how to behave himself, he might qualify for a program I’m putting together that helps veterans get acclimated to life after the military.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep.” It was still in the planning stages, but I was hopeful my partnership with the nonprofit would pan out. Helping the dogs was one thing, but if I could manage to help the dogs and some of my fellow military men and women—then I might feel like I hadn’t been wasting my time in the middle of nowhere while life seemed to pass me by.
“What’s going on over there?” Alex pointed to the bucket sitting in the middle of the floor.
