Scarlett was taken aback when she stepped outside to see the new rescues. After getting to know Shane and Lauren’s team, she thought she was familiar with huskies.
But these were… wrong.
Something about the dull look in their eyes, the thinness, and in some cases, the whimpering. Several had to be carried to the new area for the rescues, so Scarlett tried her best to push past the overwhelming feeling of sadness for these poor, mistreated dogs.
A part of her wondered if this was what Henry had seen at his grandfather’s. Now, more than ever, she found herself hating the man that, even in death, had forced his grandson to be someone he wasn’t. What kind of depraved person could actually treat these magnificent animals like this?
The dogs didn’t bark. They didn’t even growl. They seemed to move like ghosts through the new area of the kennel. Scarlett struggled to hear what Lauren and Shane were saying about needing to keep the new dogs separate from the team, but she had a hard time focusing on the words when the dog she carried with her seemed about to collapse at even the slightest bit of wind.
“Hey, Scarlett, that one’s going to need to be in the shed for a time,” Lauren called out to her.
“Hmm?” she replied, finding herself drawn into the dog’s gaze, a beautiful mismatched set of eyes. Just like Henry. “The shed?”
“Yeah, Oscar said she’s pregnant and close to having her litter.”
How could that be true? This dog barely had enough strength to support its own body, let alone others. “But she’s so skinny!”
“Yeah…” A strange mix of anger and sorrow swirled in her friend’s eyes, and Scarlett understood it exactly—because she was feeling the same thing herself.
Scarlett hugged the dog to her chest a bit tighter. “I’m going to call you Fantine,” she whispered soothingly to the expectant mother. “She was also abandoned after getting pregnant, but you won’t be alone like she was.”
She arranged a nest of blankets for Fantine in the shed and placed a bowl of food and tepid water by the head of the weary dog.
The job was mostly done, but she knew the work was far from over. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of the soldiers that had come back from war. The thousand-yard stare, listlessness, mindless pacing. These dogs had been through Hell.
“It hurts deep down to see them like this.”
She jumped at the voice and turned, half expecting to find Henry there again, but instead she was greeted by Oscar Rockwell, who stood with glistening eyes, watching the dogs.
“Sorry,” the SDRO head and veterinarian said, approaching Scarlett and Fantine. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just know how you feel. It’s why our work is so important, and you’re a part of that now.”
“What happened to all of them?” Scarlett asked, freely letting tears fall.
“It varies from dog to dog, but there is always trauma, always needs not being met. Some of these were rescued from kennels that were overpopulated, some from kill shelters where they’d been abandoned when their owners gave up on them. There’s a rash of them every year, like rabbits after Easter.”
“They just look so…”
“Yeah. It’s hard to find the words for it. Huskies are normally happy and playful, eager to work. These are, for lack of a better word, broken. The black and white guy over there? He was found under someone’s porch in the valley. He had a broken leg and nearly lost his eye. We assume he got on the wrong side of a lynx. Before that, we have no idea where he came from or the rest of his story. Took three months before he finally started to open up. The mother you were helping—”
“Fantine.”
“From Les Miserables?” He chuckled. “I suppose that fits. She was stuck in a kennel that was little more than a puppy mill. We couldn’t find ownership paperwork for the area, so it was probably an illegal puppy farm, and when the money got tight or the police got too close, the people in charge just abandoned the whole thing. When we arrived, half the dogs were dead, still chained up. The rest were malnourished. A couple had injured themselves trying to escape.”
Scarlett felt her stomach churn. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being a horrible guest. I guess I’ve become too accustomed to what these dogs have been through.”
“How do you deal with it?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Fantine as she spoke.
“By focusing on their future instead of their past. You know everyone has parts of their past they’d rather forget, some beyond their control. In those cases, you’re left with two choices. You can dwell on it and never be free, or you can focus on making sure tomorrow is the best it can possibly be.”
Scarlett nodded. The vision of Fantine’s mismatched eyes merged with Henry’s, and she wondered how she could have gotten things so wrong when it came to him.
“I’ll protect you,” she told the dog and hoped that somewhere Henry had heard her words, too.