Another volunteer approaches them. “Are you looking for any particular type of dog?”
“This is our first visit,” Danika says. “But something on the smaller size, energetic, kid-friendly.”
“The terrier your daughters are looking at is a lovely boy,” the volunteer, whose name tag readsArchiesays. “He’s about six, and he previously lived with a family. They had to surrender him when they moved into a rental that didn’t allow dogs.” Archie looks over to where the girls are crouched, talking to the terrier. “Do you want to meet him out of the cage?”
“It’s probably a bit early for that,” Danika says. “We were hoping for a younger dog.”
“No worries. Keep looking.” Archie smiles. “Come find me if there’s any of our good doggos you’re interested in.”
They move on down the line. There’s a wolfhound standing dejectedly at the back of the run, skinny tail drooping, coat matted. A sign on the cage says he’s only just arrived, and he will receive love and veterinary attention over the coming days.
A pair of poodle-crosses catches Danika’s attention. They look young, and seem happier than many of the other dogs, but a sign says they are to be adopted together.
She and Kim catch up with the girls. Cami slips her hand in Danika’s. “They’re all so sad,” she whispers. “It’s not their fault.”
Bella, too, is holding Kim’s hand.
They walk on, leaving the dogs and entering the cat area. These aren’t as heartbreaking as the dogs, and Bella holds a rag-doll kitten that she immediately falls in love with. It’s a sweet little thing, with a creamy coat and brown points, and it nuzzles its head under Bella’s chin as she and Cami stroke it.
They walk back out through the dog runs, braving the noise and the desperation once more. Cami stops at a run where a golden-coloured dog stands motionless in the corner. His tail droops, but his eyes are bright. When Cami crouches, he walks over cautiously and pushes his nose against the wire. Cami talks to him, and his tail wags.
Archie appears again. “That’s Hugo. He arrived only the other day, and we don’t have much information about him. He was living rough at Caloola Reserve. No microchip, of course.”
“He’s lovely,” Cami says.
“He’s a senior, about nine, the vet thinks.” Archie looks over at Danika. “Your daughter seems to like him.”
“She loves any animal,” Danika says. “Even her hobby horse.”
Archie grins. “My granddaughter does too. Enters it in jumping competitions, wins ribbons just as if it were a real horse.”
“Don’t tell our daughters that,” Kim says. “We’ve enough to do on weekends.”
Cami is eventually persuaded to leave, and they walk back out to the carpark.
Cami is quiet as they drive along Springvale Road. When they park in a busy area, she doesn’t even join the debate about kebabs or Vietnamese food for lunch. Vietnamese wins the vote, and they go into a café with Formica tables and a five-page menu.
“We can look at more dogs next week,” Danika says. “Maybe see if there are any breeders with puppies.”
“I liked Hugo,” Cami says. “He liked me, too.”
“He’s an older dog, sweetie.” Danika flicks through the menu. “How about vermicelli with pork balls?”
“Okay,” Cami says.
Bella adds a more enthusiastic agreement.
After lunch, Cami and Bella want to go to the park. Kim and Danika sit at one of the picnic tables in the shade while the kids play on the swings, seeing who can swing the highest.
Kim straddles the bench facing Danika and, hidden by the table, takes her hand. “As much as I love our girls, I wish it were just us right now. I want to kiss you so much.”
Danika melts. The purr in Kim’s voice tells her she wants to do so much more than just kiss. An ice-cream van tinkles its tune from the road across the park. Danika arches an eyebrow. “We could send them off for ice cream.”
Kim stands. “Who wants ice cream?”
“Yeah!” Bella and Cami come running. Kim hands them ten dollars and tells them to hold hands and walk, not run, to the van. “We can still see you.”
The girls giggle, but they’re not going to jeopardise their chances of ice cream cones with flake and sprinkles, so they walk off decorously to the van.
