Florida Panhandle
Creed hated being tethered to his cell phone, but today he couldn’t afford to miss any calls. He didn’t know what to do about Maggie other than give her time and space. She knew she could call and talk to him if and when she needed. So he put an earbub in and the phone in his pocket while he worked. All the callers he wanted to hear from had designated ring tones, allowing him to ignore any others.
He and Jason had spent the morning dismantling the shelves that Dr. Avelyn had emptied inside the medical clinic. It did open up the area. They could now easily accommodate big enough kennels and crates that would be comfortable for the dogs coming in from Afghanistan.
Brodie worked quietly beside him after Jason left for lunch with Taylor and her son. She fussed with bedding and precisely attached each of the water bowls so they wouldn’t tip over with a restless dog. There was a buzzing sound coming from the other side of one wall, and she hunted it down, asking if they could relocate the culprit: a small refrigerator. Creed was impressed with her eye for detail, especially when it came to comfort.
“They’re being rescued just in time for Christmas,” she said. “That’s kinda cool.”
He stopped himself from saying, just like last year.
It was stupid, but he found himself tiptoeing around the subject. She still struggled with PTSD. Of course she did. Recently, he realized he couldn’t be left in enclosed places for long without panic crawling inside his brain. But what Brodie had gone through? He’d understand completely if she wanted to skip Christmas entirely.
“Yeah, it is cool,” he told her.
“It bothers you?”
“Christmas?”
“No, Afghanistan. It’s still with you.”
He simply stared at her. Here he was worried about her, and she could see right through him.
“Yeah. It still bothers me. Not often.”
“Sort of creeps up on you.” A statement, not a question. Of course, she knew what it was like.
In the first months after she arrived to live with him and Hannah, Creed had asked her how she was doing way too many times. Right now, he wanted to ask if Christmas would be like that for her?
As if she could read his mind, she asked, “What are you getting Maggie for Christmas?”
“I have no clue. Any ideas?”
“Does she read?”
“Yeah, but not like we do.”
That was one thing the two of them still shared, and he counted on it. If he couldn’t ask how she was doing, he could always ask what she was reading. It was their grandmother who got them hooked, specially choosing books she knew each of them would enjoy and giving them as gifts for holidays and birthdays. As kids, they’d read into the late night until their mom made them go to sleep. Creed had every single copy on his bookcase.
“She doesn’t wear jewelry,” Brodie told him.
“I already discounted that as too easy. I do know she loves her backyard.”
“Have you ever been there?”
He shook his head. Started to say something when Brodie put up her hand to stop him. “I know. It’s complicated.”
They both smiled.
“Let me think about it,” she offered, and Creed liked that she made it sound like a project they could work on together.
She went off to hunt for more beds and blankets, and he headed outside. He needed to finish constructing a fence for the temporary yard at the back of the clinic. It was something he’d been meaning to do for some time, so recuperating dogs could get fresh air and stretch their legs without the attention of all the dogs over in the kennel’s yards.
Dr. Avelyn had called before dawn. Creed thought it might be Maggie, restless and needing to talk. Then he heard the veterinarian’s excited voice say, “We have a flight coming in tonight. Is it even possible to be ready? We’re expecting eighteen, maybe twenty-two.”
Still groggy and searching for the time, he didn’t hesitate and told her, “We’ll make it happen.”
Now, as he assessed what was left on their “to-do” list, he was impressed at how much they could accomplish when they all worked together. He realized having that many new dogs coming in at one time would be chaotic at first. Each dog would have different needs other than being quarantined. Dr. Avelyn had warned some of them could be dehydrated and malnourished. Others anxious and skittish. Creed reminded her that all their dogs had come to them with some level of disfunction.
Hannah had rented a cargo van. Jason had dropped her off to pick it up on his way to the beach. She was meeting Dr. Avelyn at her clinic in Milton to load travel carriers and supplies. The clinic had a mobile unit the vet would also bring prepared with additional crates. Transporting twenty dogs, even though it was less than forty miles, would be a challenge. By the time they got to Pensacola’s airport, the dogs would have already traveled 8,000 miles, about fifteen to sixteen hours in the air. Not an extraordinary feat for trained war dogs, but those that had been living on the street? Hiding and fending for themselves? Of course, they would be exhausted, anxious, and scared.
Dr. Avelyn had shared some of the atrocities the left behind dogs had faced in the days following the fall of Kabul. He didn’t want to think about them. The Taliban had always viewed the animals as special demons that possessed powers they didn’t understand. The villagers believed the dogs had magical capabilities that allowed them to see through lies as well as walls. At least a half dozen times, Creed had to shield Rufus from children throwing rocks, being instructed and encouraged to “hit the dog.”
No, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that dogs abandoned to these people would suffer horrible consequences. It made him physically ill, imagining what it was like. Any day of the week, he’d be willing to take the hits, even being pummeled by rocks and bottles or bullets. Anything to protect these defenseless dogs who did nothing wrong. K9s who worked tirelessly along with their handlers doing only what they were trained to do.
Late in the afternoon, Dr. Avelyn had called Hannah to tell them the flight was delayed “Not a problem,” Hannah had insisted.
The second delay made them all a bit antsy.
Brodie and Jason decided to finish kennel chores that they originally thought could wait until after the new dogs were all settled. That left Creed and Hannah alone in the kitchen with yet another cup of coffee for both.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Hannah finally said after a long silence between them.
They stared at each other from across the table. He knew that she could see in his eyes that the feeling was mutual.
“We know they were allowed to leave Kabul. Right?” he asked.
“I think that’s all we know. You’d think this flight warranted national security risks. Dr. Avelyn couldn’t even find out how many stops or where those might be. You don’t think the government would nix this, would they?”
“They don’t like to be proven wrong. Remember, they’re still claiming they didn’t leave any dogs behind. Is there anyone we know we could ask for help with this?”
“Not on the foreign affairs side of things,” Hannah sipped her coffee as she gave it more thought. Then she shook her head. “Believe me, I’ve already been racking my brain since Dr. Avelyn told us about this.”
“Then I guess we have to wait and see.”
“And you know waiting is not my strong suit.”
“Mine either.”