Sam was sitting in her office attempting to make it through a mound of neglected paperwork when her cell phone pinged with an incoming text message. The caller showed up as anonymous. “Terms are accepted. Mayor to announce in 30 minutes. Get prepared. Will be a 4-hour open window for drop off. Best we could get the gov to agree to. Supplies coming. Thank you. Broken Watch.”
Sam summoned Greg, Luke, Andy, and Beth into the break room and explained the development. She expected a hundred questions, but instead faced a stunned silence.
“I want you to know that this was my decision and I own it. I thought it was the best way to try to save some dogs. But I know you guys didn’t sign up for this. I don’t know what we’re dealing with or whether any dogs we’ll take in have the virus or even whether the virus can be transmitted. As a precaution, I am going to ask each of you to take a rabies vaccine. I’ve already had mine. It’s not as bad as it used to be. If you can’t stay, I totally understand and you’ll always be welcomed back when this is over. I won’t think any less of you. But I need to know who is staying and who’s going and I need to have your decision now.”
Beth raised her hand. “So are you saying that I’m free to go?” she asked.
Sam tried hard to swallow her disappointment. Shame on me for believing people can change, she told herself. “Yes,” Sam answered. “This wasn’t part of the deal. You can go and I will recommend to Judge Allerton that you be released from any further service.”
“Good,” Beth said as she lifted herself off a chair. “Can we order some pizza? The threat of a biological disaster always makes me hungry.”
If the pope had suddenly appeared in the room with sunglasses and a Mohawk, he would not have received more openmouthed stares.
“But…,” Sam stammered.
“Look, I just wanted to have a choice again,” Beth said. “Now I do.”
Sam found her voice after a minute. “I don’t know what to say.”
Beth rolled her eyes, uncomfortable with the positive attention. “Just say half green peppers and half onions.”
Sam turned to Greg. “How many more dogs do you think we can handle here?”
Greg, maybe for the first time ever, was at a loss for words. “I don’t… I…”
“Just give me your best guess.”
“Maybe eighty? If we had extra help and we used the basement.”
“I was thinking ninety, but maybe that’s pushing it.”
Greg shook his head. “But we don’t have any equipment or supplies for that many.”
At that moment Kendall entered the room, carrying an armful of blankets. “Hey,” he called out. “I need a hand unloading the truck.”
They all followed Kendall outside to a New York City police truck parked in front of the shelter. The truck was loaded with kennel crates, mats, towels, a stack of fifty-pound bags of dog food, and metal bowls. Two Guards in a Jeep on the opposite side of the street paused to watch Kendall lift a kennel off the police truck, but they made no move to help him.
“Is this all for us?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Kendall said. “A gift from Her Honor, the mayor.”
Sid stepped out from around the police truck wearing his ancient tool belt. “We’re going to need to do a bit of reorganizing,” he said. “How’s the basement?”
“It’s the same as always,” Sam responded. “Just spiders and storage.”
“Then I’ll start there,” he said, moving past her and into the shelter.
“I’ll go help him,” Luke said.
“Me too,” Andy added.
“But I don’t like spiders,” Beth volunteered.
“Don’t worry. These are city spiders,” Andy told her. “I’ll give them a dollar and they’ll leave you alone.”
“My hero,” Beth said, and followed them inside.
Sam listened to these diverse humans join together to come to the aid of dogs they had never met and took it as compelling evidence that she had made the right decision.