“Ciao!” it screeches again. “Ciao! Ciao!”
“That’s the only word he knows,” a lady says as she approaches me. “You here to adopt or are you here for supplies?”
I hold up my greasy hands. “Neither. I’m hoping you have a sink.”
The woman points me in the direction of the restroom. I make my way through the store, pausing to look at all the various animals in their cages. There are rabbits and turtles and kittens and guinea pigs. But when I make it to the back of the store, near the restroom, I pause in my tracks and suck in a breath.
I stare at him for a moment because he’s staring right back at me. Two big brown eyes, looking at me like I’m the fiftieth person to walk past him today. But he still somehow has hope in those eyes—like maybe I’ll be the first one to actually consider adopting him. I step closer to his cage, which is flanked by several empty cages. He’s the only dog in the whole store.
“Hey, buddy,” I whisper. I read the note at the bottom left corner of his cage. Beneath the Italian description is a description written in English.
German Shepherd
Male
Seven weeks old
Available for adoption
I stare at the note for a moment and then force myself to walk to the bathroom. I scrub my hands as fast as I can, because I can’t stand for that puppy to think I’m just another one of the dozens of people who walked past him today and didn’t want to take him home.
I’ve never been much of a dog person, because I’ve never had a dog before. I honestly thought I’d never own a dog, but I have a feeling I’m not walking out of this store without this puppy. Before I leave the bathroom, I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot Graham a text.
Come inside to the back of the store. Hurry.
I walk out of the bathroom, and when the puppy sees me again, his ears perk up. He lifts a paw and presses it against the cage as I come closer. He’s sitting on his hind legs, but I can see his tail twitching, like he wants my attention but he’s scared it’ll just be fleeting and he’ll be spending another night in this cage.
I slip my fingers between the bars of his cage, and he sniffs them, then licks me. I feel a tightening in my chest every time we make eye contact, because seeing him so full of hope but so scared of disappointment makes me sad. This puppy reminds me of me. Of how I used to feel.
I hear someone walking up behind me, so I spin around to see Graham staring at the puppy. He walks up to the cage and tilts his head. The puppy looks from me to Graham and then finally stands up, unable to stop his tail from wagging.
I don’t even have to say anything. Graham just nods his head and says, “Hey, little guy. You want to come home with us?”
* * *
“It’s been three days,” Ava says. “That poor puppy needs a name.”
She’s clearing off the table, preparing to go home. Reid left with Max about an hour ago to put him to bed. We all try to eat dinner together a few times a week, but we usually go to their house, since Max goes to bed early. But now we’re the ones with a new baby, and even though that new baby is a puppy, he naps and pees and poops as much as a human newborn.
“It’s so hard coming up with a good name, though,” I groan. “I want to give him a name that’ll mean something, but we’ve tossed out every idea we’ve had.”
“You’re being too picky.”
“It took you eight months to choose a name for your child. Three days isn’t that long for a dog.”
Ava shrugs. “Good point.” She wipes down the table as I cover the leftover food and put it in the fridge.
“I thought about giving him a math-related name, since Graham loves math so much. Like maybe naming him after a number.”
Ava laughs. “It’s so weird that you say that. I just got my files at work today for the high school foreign exchange students I’ll be tutoring when they arrive in a couple of weeks. One of them is a girl from Texas. Her birth name is Seven Marie Jacobs, but she goes by Six. I thought of Graham when I saw that.”
“Why does she go by Six if her birth name is Seven?”
Ava shakes her head. “I don’t know, but it’s quirky. I haven’t even met her yet but I already like the girl.” Ava pauses and looks up at me. “What about naming it after one of the characters in your book?”
I shake my head. “Already thought of that, but those characters feel like actual people now that the book is finished. I know it’s weird, but I want the dog to have his own name. I’d feel like he was being forced to share.”