The Best Is Yet to Come (7)

“I believe you will,” Hope said.

The woman looked up, and when she saw Hope, she smiled. “My husband and I have had three Pyrenees over the years. We really love the breed. Not everyone is suited to caring for these larger dogs. To us, they’re a perfect fit.”

“I’m sure Jellybean won’t disappoint you.”

“I’m going to change his name,” she said, shaking her head as if finding “Jellybean” over the top.

“I don’t blame you. When the animals can’t be identified or aren’t chipped, the shelter gives them temporary names. Jellybean’s name isn’t one with any significance.” Naming the dogs gave them an identity and a means of helping the shelter know which dog interested a prospective owner.

Running her hand over his thick white fur, Ms. Chesterton stood and took hold of the leash from Hope. “Are you ready to head home, Jasper?”

“Jasper?” Hope repeated, testing the name on her tongue.

“Yes, I decided on the name earlier, after seeing his photo. I took one look at him and knew right away he was a Jasper.”

“I like it.”

With the paperwork finalized and the fees collected, Jasper was free to go to his new forever home. Even with this short acquaintance, Hope felt confident Ms. Chesterton would be a good dog owner.

As if he knew exactly what to do next, Jasper leaped into the rear of the red SUV and lay down, taking up a good portion of the seat.

Hope watched as the happy couple drove off. Seeing these rescue animals find homes was gratifying on several levels. As she returned to the shelter, she passed the kennel where Shadow continued to lie, weak and sad. The poor boy tugged at her heart.

Once again, she hunched down and placed her palm against the kennel. Shadow’s dark eyes met hers. “I see you ate everything out of your bowl. Good boy.” In soft tones, she continued talking, letting Shadow know he wasn’t alone and that when he was feeling better and regained his strength, he would go to a family who would care for him. He need never worry about anyone mistreating him again.

As she had the week before, Hope stayed for the entire afternoon. When she left, she wasn’t able to get Shadow out of her mind. While stopping off for groceries, she wandered through the pet food section and on impulse bought a rope toy for him, thinking he might take out some of his anger on the rope. Shadow had every right not to trust humans. Perhaps with a bit of patience and love he would begin to believe there were good people who would care for him the way he deserved.



* * *



—

Sunday afternoon, Hope returned to the shelter. After signing in, she made her way to where Shadow was confined. Because of his temperament, his food and water were delivered through a small door cut out in the kennel. Again, she noticed that his food dish was empty, which pleased her. With the proper nourishment, he would soon regain his health. Then the real work would begin. When Preston said he wasn’t sure about him, Hope was all too aware of what he meant. If Shadow continued to be a threat to others, the shelter would have no choice but to put him down. Hope didn’t want to see that happen.

Sitting cross-legged outside his kennel, she spoke in a soft, soothing voice. “Hey, boy,” she said, “I brought you a gift.” She held up the rope toy, then slipped it through the small door in the kennel. He gave no response and continued to stare blankly at her.

“I’d be careful with him if I was you,” Don, the head of the volunteers, said, as he walked past.

“He’s okay.”

“Just don’t go inside his kennel. No telling what he’ll do.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, although the idea of gaining Shadow’s trust enough to do so started to grow in her mind. If she could visit often enough for Shadow to feel comfortable with her, then perhaps the time would come when he would allow her to get close.



* * *



—

That week, every afternoon, as soon as she finished her counseling duties, Hope drove to the shelter and sat outside Shadow’s kennel. Each time she scooted a bit closer, inching her way toward gaining his acceptance. It encouraged her to see an improvement in Shadow’s physical condition and overall demeanor. Not once did he bark or show aggression toward her, which mystified the staff. Several commented that she was the only one Shadow tolerated.

Three times over the course of that week, Hope saw Cade. They didn’t speak, although he always greeted her with a nod. She always smiled back. She noticed how patient and kind he was with the animals, both the cats and the dogs. She found herself watching him, intrigued by his silence and his demeanor. He didn’t seem to have struck up a friendship with any of the staff or other volunteers. He came, worked with the animals, and left with barely a word to anyone.

The following Saturday, Hope signed in the way she always did, and Cade stood at the counter in front of her.

After signing in himself, he turned to face Hope. “He waits for you,” he said.

His words stumped her until she figured it out. “You mean Shadow?”

He nodded.

“I’m hoping Preston will let me inside the kennel today.”

Cade’s brow rose in question. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Shadow is learning to trust me.”

“He’s got a lot of psychological damage.”