Part 6
Daniel closed his hand around the collars.
“I will.”
Walter nodded once and reached down for a final touch. Daniel gave him time with each puppy before leading them out.
In the car, Alder fell asleep first. Otis turned twice inside his carrier, then settled facing him. Daniel drove home without turning on the radio.
The fourteen-day trial was nearing its end. When he had agreed to it, he had been trying to answer a narrow question about a puppy crying at night. He had not promised himself two large dogs, years of food bills, a rearranged workday, and the loss of being able to walk out of the house whenever he pleased.
He had already needed more patience than he possessed on certain mornings. There had been accidents. A cupboard corner had acquired tooth marks while he was busy cleaning up something else. On his first shift back, he had checked his phone far too often before Judith’s message arrived saying that everybody had eaten and nobody had dismantled the kitchen.
These were still small puppies. The difficult work had barely begun.
At home, he carried the collars inside and put them on a shelf near the hallway. Alder and Otis crossed the living room together, drank from the water bowl in turns, and climbed into the same bed.
Daniel stood looking at the second one for a moment before going to make supper.
During the remaining days, the house acquired a schedule that would have seemed excessive to him a month earlier. Meals had to happen on time. A nap could not be mistaken for an opportunity to stay out indefinitely. Training worked best in short sessions, one puppy at a time, before either became too tired to care.
Two leads hung beside the door. Two bowls dried on a towel near the sink. The toys migrated beneath chairs and appeared in places Daniel could have sworn he had already checked.
He had once wanted a little sound in the house. Now he occasionally stood with a cup of coffee while the puppies chased each other around the table and asked for five minutes of quiet.
They never granted it while the coffee was hot.
Otis began coming when called without waiting to see whether Alder intended to answer. He sometimes lay beside Daniel’s chair while Alder napped elsewhere. When Judith came in, he still allowed Alder the first enthusiastic greeting, but he no longer backed into concealment. He walked up and put his nose against her hand.
Daniel gave him room to do it.
After work, he began watching the front window as he turned into the driveway. Usually Alder appeared first, a pale head bobbing above the sill. Otis joined him a moment later. By the time Daniel reached the door, both were waiting behind it.
One evening, he stopped for groceries and found himself hurrying through the store. At the checkout, he checked the time, thinking they would be expecting him.
He put the phone away and added dog-food money to the figures he had been working through all week.
On the last morning of the trial, he loaded both puppies into the car. There was no overnight bag, no collection of toys to hand back. He took their records and the foster paperwork from the kitchen drawer.
Alder watched the road. Otis lay comfortably within sight of him.
Nora met them inside the shelter. She crouched to greet the puppies, and Otis stepped forward before Alder had finished licking her wrist.
“Well,” she said, looking up at Daniel. “He’s got more to say now.”
“He’s been keeping notes.”
She led them into the office.
Two adoption folders lay on the desk. Alder’s was on top. Nora had arranged them that way without ceremony, one packet over the other, ready for Daniel’s signature.
Daniel set down the foster papers. He looked at the names, lifted the upper folder, and exchanged their places.
Nora glanced at his hands, then pushed a pen toward him.
He opened Otis’s file first.
The puppy himself had no interest in the desk. He was lying beside Alder, worrying the corner of Daniel’s trouser cuff until Daniel gently moved it out of reach.
Daniel signed the pages, checked the places Nora indicated, and closed the folder.
Then he signed Alder’s.
When they left, Nora held the door while Daniel guided both puppies through. Otis stopped to sniff the metal threshold. Alder waited on the other side until Daniel gave the leads a little slack, and they went to the car together.
By early summer, neither original bed was large enough. The collars Walter had given Daniel remained on the shelf, while larger ones appeared around growing necks. Training appointments took their place on the calendar beside veterinary visits and shift changes.
Daniel kept towels near the back door. Shepherd hair collected along the baseboards no matter how recently he swept. Once, he found a rubber toy in the clean laundry and carried it into the living room, where both dogs looked pleased with his discovery.
Otis still liked sleeping beside Alder, but he no longer treated it as his only option. Sometimes he took the larger bed for himself and left Alder standing beside the smaller one, apparently waiting for a correction that did not come.
“Work it out,” Daniel told them from his chair.
Alder eventually folded himself into the available space. Otis went on sleeping.
On a mild morning in June, Daniel got out Alder’s lead for a routine veterinary appointment. Otis watched from the hallway while Daniel checked the harness and put his keys in his pocket.
As Alder moved toward the entrance, Otis hurried after him.
Daniel stopped.
Otis rose onto his hind legs and draped his forelegs across Alder’s shoulders. Alder leaned against him, steadying them both. For several seconds, they stood in the familiar awkward hold.
Then Otis let go.
He dropped to all fours and stepped back without Daniel touching him.
Daniel opened the door. Alder followed him out, glanced once toward the house, and walked to the car.
Through the glass, Otis stood watching. By the time Daniel had secured Alder and returned for the appointment papers he had left on the entry bench, Otis had gone back to his bed. He lifted his head, accepted a brief scratch, and settled again as Daniel locked up.
A few hours later, Alder came through the door with enough energy to suggest the veterinary staff had contributed several spare batteries.
Otis got up immediately.
Their noses met. They pressed shoulder to shoulder, then Alder ducked sideways and Otis followed, both trying to turn in the space between the armchair and the table.
Daniel caught the chair before it rocked into the wall. He moved it aside, put the appointment papers safely on the high shelf beside the two old collars, and closed the door behind him.