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SHADOW WHINED AND PAWED September’s calf. He sat beside her, sniffing the air with relish. A host of aromas from the nearby kitchen predicted a feast to come. Cheesy something. Turkey. And the bacon-smell that made a good-dog’s mouth water. Would there be some for him?
He’d like that.
But only if September said so. Shadow pawed her leg again, and she dropped one hand to his brow. He leaned into the gentle touch, tail sweeping the floor when she stroked his cheek. Shadow gave her wrist a quick lick.
Salty. Acrid. The pungent taste shouted stress and his brow furrowed. He heard the stutter of September’s pulse and braced his shoulder against her knee. She took several quick breaths in, and slow ones out. He knew the special breathing helped prevent the scary-gone spells that plagued her. Nobody told him, he just knew. Shadow was smart that way.
He also knew this place and how these people made September tiptoe around like Macy-cat during a thunderstorm. She spoke with whispery tremors in her voice. Although she tried hard to be strong, Shadow could tell. He yawned, to relieve his own tension, and remained alert.
In the long-ago time, he protected his-boy Steven because September wanted him to. She taught Shadow what to do by listening for her tongue-CLICK sound that meant he’d done something right. He’d first learned important words like sit and down and wait (he still didn’t like that one). She showed him how to walk on a leash without surging ahead or dragging behind. Then Steven went away, and Shadow got to live with September all the time! At the thought his tail wagged harder. Now he did for September what she’d taught him to do for Steven—protect her and keep her safe. And he got to play fun games with September, like the show-me game that named important objects in his world. And how to check-it-out so no scary people lurked in hiding spots. He especially loved playing the seek game to find lost pets.
His most important lessons Shadow taught himself. He knew how to keep September safe from scary stuff a good-dog couldn’t bite and chase away by connecting with his-person as only a good-dog could. Shadow held her still when invisible terrors made her shake and flail, and he led her away from inside-monsters that tormented her. And September stroked his face, snuggled him close, and promised he’d always be loved and safe. He belonged to September. She belonged to him. They’d chosen each other. Nothing could ever change that.
“Mom, please excuse us so April and I can talk.” September spoke with a hurty-edged growl to her voice as if something choked her throat.
The Mom-lady shook her head. Her hands sliced the air, and her mouth spilled harsh words that made September flinch. Shadow didn’t understand the words, but wanted to stop the anger. He stepped between September and the hard-eyed woman. Shadow stared back, tail held high, until she looked away. Her mouth closed into a tight line and without another word she disappeared into the next room.
Yawning once more he met September’s eyes, looking for approval, and waved his tail when she yawned back in answer.
September smiled. “Good-dog, Shadow. I’m okay.”
He didn’t believe it, but shook himself hard to shrug off his own stress. That always made her laugh. September’s scent changed as the thumpity-fast heart-rhythm slowed along with her breath. He wondered if Steven might join them, since his-boy lived with this other woman.
“April, I would help you any way I can. Please know that.” September guided the other woman to the sofa, and they both sat down. “I tried to donate blood last year when you nearly died, but Doug—”
“My husband has a blind spot when it comes to you. But now he’s desperate. We both are.” She took a shuddering breath. “He’s helping Dad with the hot tub fence. They couldn’t stand the tension, waiting for you. I needed to talk to you alone anyway. I never thanked you properly for everything. I owe you so much and...I miss you, September.” The two women hugged again.
Shadow woofed and paw-danced his concern but restrained the impulse to squeeze between and separate the pair. Dogs didn’t hug, except to show each other who was boss, to fight, or sometimes with special-smelling girl dogs.
People hugged all the time. September and Combs hugged a lot. That worried him. A lot. He and September belonged together and Shadow hadn’t figured out how Combs fit in. What if September liked Combs more than being with him? Sometimes he worried she wouldn’t need him anymore. Shadow always felt relieved when Combs left. He preferred having September all to himself—the time she spent with Macy-cat felt different. As nice as cats smelled, and even if they shared treats, cats weren’t the same as dogs. He guessed Macy couldn’t help it, though. He’d learned to love September’s hugs. He learned new things all the time, but people often confused him.
“Let me finish.” September pulled away and caught April’s hands in her own. “This isn’t easy to tell you.” She licked her lips and looked sideways, her voice soft as she finished in a rush. “When I tried to donate blood, the doctors said you have a different type.” Her voice shook. “I’m not a match, either.”
