Chapter 75

December 4th, 2021

Logan had pretty much already counted on the fact that Rory just needed a weekend with Em, after the work week she'd just had. They'd planned to 'casually' meet at the playground Em loved on Sunday, maybe go grab a piece of pie and coffee together, the three of them, but that too was tentative, depending on whether Em seemed to be up for the idea. So Logan was not getting his hopes up. This was what slow meant. He couldn't really complain, having had Rory all to himself for the past two, two and a half, weekends in a row.

And since he didn't really have much else planned for his Saturday, he decided to go check out the dog shelter in Bloomfield just North of Hartford. He'd read that it was a good place to just go, even just to socialize the dogs if one wasn't sure, so he figured it would be a good way to just let himself adjust to this possible step.

There was also some parallel in his thinking, that if he was able to do this - he could also do more, be a role model for Em, maybe even be a father to his own kid someday. Like a trial run, almost, except it wouldn't be that temporary. It was a decision, a commitment, that he didn't want to do lightly.

The neighborhood certainly wasn't posh like the parts of West-Hartford that he was used to, but for once he felt like he fitted in alright - his car was average, his outfit of jeans, half-zip mock neck and his leather jacket, which was probably a little thin for this weather, also didn't stand out out and in that sense he had achieved just what he wanted. He wasn't Logan Huntzberger, he was just some guy taking a look around.

"Hi," Logan said as he stepped into the reception area that seemed to function as the waiting room for a vet's office. There were a few people waiting, one with a dog under their chair, another one with a hamster cage.

"Hi," the clerk replied. "How may I help you?" he added.

"I'm considering adopting a dog," Logan began and explained that he was hoping to take a look at the dogs they had, see if he clicked with anyone.

As the clerk himself had things to do, he just let Logan wander along the rows of kennels. There were barks, howls and a few cries even, some of the dogs jumping against their cages, some hidden to the furthest corners of their kennels.

There was a long row of pit-bulls in various colors and ages, the clerk having told him that there had been a puppy factory heist a few weeks back, which explained that. There were chihuahuas, several mix breeds and some Logan had only seen and knew to be pure-breds but didn't quite know what they were called.

None of them really felt even remotely 'right', except for the black mid-sized dog which caught his attention due the red collar on his neck. Generally the dogs here didn't have collars. But this one had a name, Zara, not just a number too. The dog was an 8-month old female, a Malinois, not that he knew what that really was. Either way - she was shorthaired and had pointy ears, looking skinny, but still wolf-like. She was quiet compared to the rest, but not shy, definitely showing some interest in him too.

Logan crouched down next to the dog's kennel and gently raised his hand, allowing her to sniff him. She whined a little, clearly wanting more of his attention.

"You want to come out and play, do you?" Logan said, speaking to the dog, and observed her body language.

The wagging tail was a good sign he figured, from the little experience that he had. He crouched there for several minutes.

The clerk returned with another couple soon, who'd also wanted to look at the dogs, and let them wander. Then the clerk approached him to ask whether he wanted to take the talk out to the enclosure to throw a toy around with him or something. He'd seen one of the enclosures coming in.

"Yeah, why not," Logan said. "But can you tell me a little bit more about her? Why does she have a collar unlike the others?" Logan asked.

"She wasn't found, she was brought back to us. It happens sometimes," the clerk shrugged. "And it seems the collar soothes her, gets kind of anxious when it's not on her neck," he explained. "But other than that he's energetic, pretty well trained but could use some consistency," the clerk continued.

"Why was she brought back?" Logan just had to ask.

"They had some issue with the kids in the family. So I guess I should say that she's not that great with kids, or at least kids that didn't let her have her peace. The reality we really can't judge… That's what I remember, I don't think she bit anyone as then we usually add a warning sign, but if you need I can find out for sure what the issue was exactly. We have it on file somewhere," he offered. "Do you have kids?" he asked, casually.

"Em… I might," Logan replied, unsurely. It was surely the first time anyone had asked him that. And he didn't really know how to respond to that.

"Uh… whatever, man," the clerk said, sounding confused. "You wanna take her out or not?" he asked.

Logan didn't want to be that person who brought a dog back to the pound for the second time if she did have a problem with kids. Even if Em sometimes reminded him of a pre-teen rather than a pre-schooler, he could still imagine her wanting the dog's. It was reason enough for him to walk out of there dogless, even if a little reluctantly.

He'd hoped for that feeling of recognition, but surely that hadn't been it.

He was already thinking of perhaps giving Tristan a call, maybe asking if he wanted to go play some sports - basketball or squash, or hear what his sister was up to. But just as he stepped out of the building a small fox-like dog ran past him, out the door, the dog's leash flapping after him, or her… he wasn't sure. A second later a woman came rushing after the dog nearly bumping into Logan.

"Sorry!" she called out, but continued to chase the dog. "Loki, come back," she called out.

Logan didn't really know what got into him at that point, but his muscles did the thinking for him and he began to chase the dog too, seeing the woman wasn't fast enough and had done a wrong estimation in her head and taken a longer route than he was able to do from where he was now. It looked like he had good odds to cut the dog off. And he did.

It was perhaps good that he had zero fear of dogs, having as little experience as he did, as he now moved slowly left and right in a goal-keeper-like manner three feet from the dog, trying to read the dog's mind on which way it was going to run next. If he were to just go for his collar the dog would be long gone, he needed to get closer somehow.

It was an interesting dog breed, one that he hadn't seen much around Hartford, but he had seen it. Sort of knee-height, kind of like a fox in its reddish color and white chest but it had a certain Malamute-like feature to its muzzle.

Suddenly, there was a loud howl from the direction of the shelter, distracting the dog for a second, and Logan took a step closer, grabbing the dog's chest harness catching it off guard. It really was a silly thing to do to a dog he didn't know and most dogs probably would've bit him, even if just nipped him. Thankfully the dog didn't. It was over, and the woman stepped close, taking over.

"Thanks for that," she said. She was in her early thirties, blonde but a little silverish rather than strawberry blonde, her hair cut in a short bob. She kind of reminded him of Veronica Roth, having had the chance to meet the author at a gala once.

"It's no trouble," he replied, actually having liked the rush of adrenaline. "What breed is he, do you know?" he asked, unsure whether this was a dog from the shelter, or was he one of the vet patients.