Hi, everyone! Another update for you. I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you like reading it!
The puppy conversation, unbeknownst to our kids, continued on throughout the following months. The days grew colder and shorter and, slowly but surely, Annabeth seemed more open to the idea. Though it was not without some effort on my part.
"Who's going to train it?" she asked one night in early October, lying next to me in bed, "The kids are gone all day and we have jobs, and puppies are like babies. They need constant attention."
"So we won't get a puppy," I said, "We can get one that's a little older and already trained."
"Then it won't know us. What if it's mean? And just because it's trained doesn't make it well behaved. It could chew things or steal food. And dogs shed, Percy. Like I don't have enough to clean already with three kids."
I changed the subject pretty soon after, but wasn't ready to drop the idea just yet. Growing up a half-blood in an apartment in New York City, owning a dog had never really been an option. I'd had Mrs. O'Leary for a little while, but she wasn't exactly a house pet and Nico had all but adopted her after I'd left for college. Manhattan had been home right up until Nicky was born, and the topic had never really come up between Annabeth and me. After that, the boys were young and then Carly was born and things were crazy enough without adding to it. But I really did like the idea of getting the kids a dog now and the more I considered it, the better the possibility seemed. To me anyway.
The conversations continued. It was hard to say how much progress was made.
A week later we were at it again, jogging side-by-side on a morning run. We'd passed a lady walking a beagle and the topic was brought up again.
"Dogs poop, Percy," Annabeth said now as we rounded a corner, "A lot. You mean to tell me the kids are actually going to clean up after it?"
"They insist they will. They're old enough to be held to that."
She looked at me dubiously. "Have you met our kids? Logan still gives me a hard time about putting his clean clothes away."
"C'mon, Annabeth. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it at least a little bit."
"Of course I have, Seaweed Brain. I want them to be happy as much as you do, but someone has to be logical about this."
I gave half a smirk. "You're nothing if not logical, honey."
She shot me a look. "What if a monster attacks? I doubt the Mist works on dogs, but even if it does, it would see something. Dogs are protective. It could get hurt trying to fight it off, or worse, get in the way and lead to one of us getting hurt." Try as I might, I had no response to this, and without allowing me time to come up with one, she picked up the pace and left me to catch up.
The next time Carly asked if we could get a dog, Annabeth gave her the usual answer and sent her out to get the boys for dinner. She caught my gaze once the eight-year old had gone and sighed, "Just don't."
The first time she broached the subject on her own, I knew we were getting somewhere. The kids were out of school for Thanksgiving break and we were driving to my parents' for dinner after dropping the boys off at camp for the week. Carly was asleep in the back seat. Annabeth, who had been staring quietly out the window, sighed lightly and looked over at me. "I'm not agreeing to anything," she began, "But if we were to get the kids a dog, it would have to be a real breed. I don't want one of those yappy rat-things."
I laughed, conscious of our daughter sleeping behind me. "Works for me."
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Annabeth said as we got out of the car and walked together through the cold, mostly empty parking lot.
"Honestly, neither can I."
She made a face at me. "We're just looking."
"I know."
It was a Thursday in mid-December. Christmas was in just over two weeks; the city was crowded with tourists and shoppers, and the roads in Manhattan were even harder than normal to navigate. As she did most Thursdays, Annabeth had gone into the office today and I'd picked her up at the firm and took her for an early lunch. We'd made the decision to come here the day before, but I was really surprised she actually followed through with it. I was excited.
The sound of barking dogs was plain the second we opened the door. My experience with animal shelters was pretty much limited exclusively to the depressing commercials that occasionally played on TV. The place was nothing special, really, with it's plain walls and vaguely animal smell that clung to everything, but the woman behind the front desk smiled at us as we stepped inside. Her nametag identified her as Ashley. "Hi," she said, "How are you guys?"
"We're doing pretty good," I told her, "How are you?"
"I'm good, thanks. How can I help you today?"
I glanced at Annabeth and answered, "We're thinking about getting our kids a dog and thought this might be a good place to start."
"We're just looking," Annabeth added.
"No problem," Ashley said, "If you guys can follow me, I'll take you back and let you look at some of our residents."
"That'd be great," I said.
"Right this way," she said, gesturing for us to follow her as she led us through a door, "Anything in particular you're looking for?"
"Something family friendly," Annabeth told her, "And fairly clean."
"Did you want a puppy, or something a little older?"
"Well, we don't want anything too old, but if you have some that are somewhat trained, that would be great."
"Absolutely," Ashley said, and led us partway down a hallway and to a door on the right. She opened it to reveal a room lined with large chain-link cages and containing dogs of all ages. Each held anywhere from a single dog up to groups of three or four. Many moved forward to get a closer look at us, tails wagging. Some barked. Some slept. One, in a cage by itself, remained in a far corner, looking scared, and I had a feeling it was a new arrival. "Feel free to look around. Most of the animals in here are friendly, but don't stick your hands through the cages. Let me know if you want a closer look at any."
We thanked her and moved forward, looking around. I glanced at Annabeth. Her gray eyes scanned the dogs' faces. She looked almost sad. It wasn't hard to guess why. There had to be twenty-five dogs in here and none of them had homes.
I approached a cage that held three adult dogs that stood looking at us expectantly. I reached a hand out and held it an inch away from the cage. One of them, a dark-colored lab, growled at me. Another one, a longhaired thing, hesitantly licked my fingers between the wires. Ashley stepped beside me. "That's Millie," she said, "She's a sweetie."
"How long do you normally keep animals here?" Annabeth asked, watching Millie, still skittish, stick her tongue between the cage again. Her gaze was soft but noncommittal.
"It depends," Ashley replied, "Most, thankfully, aren't here very long. Average is a few months. Puppies tend to go sooner."
Annabeth nodded acknowledgement and turned to another cage. I glanced at Millie again and, with a quick glance at Ashley to ensure her back was turned, I reached a finger in and pet the dog's snout before turning and following after my wife. She and Ashley stood before another cage, two down from Millie's, watching a yellow lab sleep inside. "How old are your kids?" Ashley was asking.
"Fourteen, twelve, and eight."
"Jack, here, is five. That might be a little older than what you're looking for, but he's a great dog."
"And this one?" She asked, pointing to a medium-sized spotted dog in the next cage over, which came closer as she approached, its tail wagging slowly as it considered her. It shared a cage with a boxer—maybe—who lay on the floor of the cage, but lifted his head expectantly at her.
"That one came to us without a name," Ashley answered, "We call him Oscar. He's a little over a year old." I came to stand beside Annabeth, but the second I came close, Oscar barked and quickly retreated, his tail between his legs and his head down. Ashley sighed. "His last owner beat him. He doesn't really like men."
Annabeth looked like her heart broke a little to hear this. "So much for that," I said, slightly disappointed. At my voice, Oscar's roommate stood up and clambered over. It stuck its nose between the chain link.
"Who's this?" I asked, holding my hand up to the cage like I had with Millie. The probably-boxer sniffed me.
"This is Brooklyn," Ashley said, "She's a cutie. You can pet her if you want. She won't hurt you." I stroked her head with my finger through the cage.
Annabeth reached over and allowed Brooklyn to sniff her before petting her too. "You keep males and females together?" she asked.
"In some cases, yes," said Ashley, "All our animals are fixed prior to going up for adoption and some dogs tend to do better with the opposite sex. Less territorial that way."
Brooklyn licked Annabeth's finger and she smiled. "She's cute," I said, "What breed is she?"
"She's a boxer," Ashley said, confirming my earlier guess, "Purebred as far as we can tell. Very friendly. They love attention. Great family dogs."
"How old is she?"
"She is… ten months? I'll have to double check. I can open the cage if you want to see her."
I looked to Annabeth for her thoughts and found her attention was no longer on Brooklyn, but on a cage at the end of the line. She touched my arm and then wandered away, not waiting to see if I followed. I did, of course.
The end cage held four dogs, who looked younger than most of the others we'd seen so far. They weren't puppies, but they clearly weren't full-grown yet either. They all clustered near the cage entrance. Two of them barked excitedly. All wagged their tails. Annabeth was focused on just one though.
He stood on the end of the line, tongue hanging out as he looked at her. He looked a bit like a golden retriever, but his fur was darker, almost red, and it looked very thin in some places, like it was growing back after somehow being removed. Even so, there was something about him. He just looked like a good dog.
"What's this one?" Annabeth asked, letting him sniff her through the cage, even while the others jostled him to say hello too.
"He's a golden setter," Ashley answered her, "Golden retriever and red setter. Six months old. Fully trained and very friendly."
"Does he have a name?" I asked.
"Ollie."
"Can we see him?" Annabeth asked.
"Yeah, of course," Ashley said, producing a key ring. She unlocked the gate and followed us inside, locking us in. The four dogs swarmed us as we entered, Ollie included, though he seemed more hesitant than the rest. Annabeth crouched down in front of him, petting a young lab that came toward her, but focused on the golden setter.
"What's wrong with his fur?" she asked, running her fingers over the thin spots.
"It was burned off," Ashley answered, "His previous owners' house caught on fire in the middle of the night. It was a father and a little girl. The father didn't make it out and Ollie stayed with the little girl until the fire department came. He nearly died of smoke inhalation, but he barked until firemen could find them. The little girl, I think, went to live with relatives but they couldn't take Ollie, so he wound up here."
I stared at Ollie, this dog who was barely more than a puppy. He was a hero. I scratched his head. Annabeth knelt on the floor and Ollie laid his head in her lap. She stroked his ear, apparently unconcerned with the dog hair that was now all over her slacks. "Is he healthy now?" she asked.
"I can check his records, but as far as I know, there wasn't any lasting damage. It'll be another few weeks until his fur grows back to normal, but he's completely fine otherwise. He's available for adoption if you want him."
Annabeth met my eyes and I knew her will was quickly crumbling. This dog, for whatever reason, had caught her eye before we knew anything about him. Now that we did, I thought he was just about perfect. She took a deep breath and then looked at Ashley again. "If we did decide to adopt him, how long would that take?" I glanced at Annabeth but didn't argue. We'd certainly come a long way from 'just looking.'
"Well, you'll have to fill out an application, which will need to be approved before you can move forward. We're busier than normal this time of the year, but depending how fast you get approved, you should be able to take him home as early as Saturday."
"Does filling out an application automatically mean a commitment on our part?"
Ashley shook her head. "You can back out right up until you sign the papers to adopt, which you would do when you come to take him home."
"And he's up to date with shots and everything?"
"Yup. He shouldn't need anything until he's a year old."
"Okay," she nodded and then looked back down at Ollie. Then she met my eyes. "What do you think?"
"I think he's pretty perfect."
"I know." She looked at him again. "I can't believe I'm saying this," she met my eyes again, "But should we fill out an application?"
I shrugged. "Might as well. We can still change our minds if we do."
"Okay."
"Did you guys want to stay with Ollie a few more minutes before doing that?" Ashley asked.
I glanced at my watch. "We can't. We both have to get back to work." I glanced at Annabeth, "As it is, we'll probably already be late getting back."
"I understand. The paperwork shouldn't take too long. I'll get you out of here as fast as I can."
"Thank you," Annabeth said, moving to stand but looking like she'd rather not as Ollie moved off of her and eyed her now, looking betrayed. With a sigh, she stroked his head one last time.
"See ya, boy," I said, petting his head in farewell before following.
Fifteen minutes later, our application for adoption was filled out and we walked together through the cold to the parking lot. Someone from the shelter would be calling us with a decision within the next few days. "I can't believe I let you talk me into coming here," Annabeth said, smiling lightly.
"I can't believe you actually liked one. I wasn't expecting you to."
"Neither was I. Something about him just seemed right though. And he's fully trained, which is a huge plus."
I smiled, getting in behind the wheel. "The kids are going to be thrilled."
"The kids had better never ask for anything again."
I snorted. "Good luck with that."
"Yeah, I know."
There was a short pause, and then I said, "This will be good, hon."
"You're probably right. I just overthink everything."
"I know. I love you anyway."
She snorted. "Thanks." She glanced at the dashboard. "I'm going to be late."
I shrugged. "You could just take the rest of the day. The kids are in school for a few more hours. We could hang out." I grinned. "Go Ollie shopping."
Annabeth smiled and rolled her eyes. "Seaweed Brain," she said, "Shut up and drive."
Thanks for reading! And to my fellow Americans, have a happy fourth of July!
