Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Noah kisses my forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you, babe, anything for you.”
Both of us realize, once we get into the car, we have no idea where the shelter is. I drive aimlessly until Peyton finds one on her phone. After parking, I leave the SUV on for a moment and look at my wife, bouncing in her seat, eager for a dog.
“No one says we have to bring home the first one we see.”
“I know. There are things I want.”
“Like?”
“Well, obviously baby friendly, especially with Ollie. He yanks on Beau’s ears. Not that Beau seems to care. House trained. Not afraid of water, traveling or people. With the amount of people we’re around, a skittish pup wouldn’t work for us. And I’d like one a little smaller than Beau. He’s a big boy.”
“I want an Irish Wolfhound,” I tell her. She has no idea what one looks like and looks it up on her phone.
“That’s a mini horse and we live in an apartment. They’re pretty though, but something tells me we won’t find one in the shelter.”
“Probably not. Are you ready to go in?”
Peyton nods, opens her door, and slips out of the car. I meet her around the front, and we go in. We tell the young man at the front that we’d like to look at available dogs. He seems enthused and says we can go in and let him know if we want to meet one. As soon as we open the door, barking erupts.
“I hate it here.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say. “All these poor dogs looking for a home.”
“Maybe that’s something else we can do in Beaumont, if you decide to retire.”
“What’s that? Work at a dog shelter?”
“No, open one or foster dogs until they can be adopted.”
I sigh heavily. “That would be a huge undertaking. Let’s start with one first and see how we do as dog parents.”
Peyton huffs. “If Elle can do it, so can I.”
No doubt.
We walk by each cage, reading the information the shelter has on the sheet attached to the kennel. I’m on one side, Peyton on the other. We follow the rules of no petting even though some of the dogs look at us, desperately seeking attention. At the end, we meet, and both shake our heads. Each one had something that didn’t meet our requirements.
“They’re either not good with babies or other dogs. The other things on my list we can work with, but not those.”
“Definitely not.”
I thank the young man for his time, and we head back to the car. Peyton finds another shelter, and then another. Each one yields similar results as the first.
“I want to adopt,” she says. “I think that’s important. We have the ability to give a dog a good home.”
“While I agree with you on adoption, we may want to consider going to one of the stores like Ben did or finding a breeder. With a breeder, we’ll know more about the temperament of the parents and such. The store, well those are overpriced and I’m not a fan of them. Although, the one in Beaumont is like the others.”
“Adopting gives a lonely pup a home.”
“Yes, but you can’t adopt them all.”
She eyes me, as if I’m challenging her. Peyton will need to buy a new house if she wants to adopt multiple dogs. As I already stated, we live in an apartment in Portland and our house in California doesn’t have a yard. As is, we’d have to find a space or clear one for a dog to go to the bathroom.
“Maybe this is my way of putting off the inevitable.”
“Which is?” I ask her.
“The pregnancy test.”
“You have until tomorrow morning.”
“True. But I’m antsy and eager. And I do want a dog because we could never have one because we were either on tour with the band and by the time we stopped doing going, Elle was deep into cheering and went to a lot of competitions. And I was . . .” She pauses and looked at me. “Following you around. I don’t know if I would’ve given up my obsession with you for a dog.”
I start laughing and she sighs. “You’re something else.”
“Eh.” Peyton shrugs. “There’s one more not far from here. Let’s see what they have.”
We drive for a bit and then pull into another parking lot. This shelter is bigger than the others we’ve been to. We go inside and for the first time, they ask what we’re looking for in our forever friend.
Peyton gives the woman the list and explains our lifestyles, stressing how a skittish pup wouldn’t be best due to extensive traveling.
“What breed?”
Peyton shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, really. Something medium size, unless you have an Irish Wolfhound. Apparently, my husband has always wanted one.”
The woman’s eyes go wide. “We actually got one in the other day. I just listed her on the website. She’s about six months old.”