Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
My heart stuttered in my chest as I got a good look at them.
Older.
All of them were old.
There was the oldest Pug I’d ever seen, and then an even older Great Dane that looked like he may or may not keel over at any second.
The one that caught my attention the most was the yellow Lab with the whitest face I’d ever noticed on a dog.
The name on his kennel said “Butters.”
“This is the geriatric section,” he said. “All of these dogs are scheduled for euthanasia.”
My gasp had him explaining.
“I’m just kidding,” Haze admitted. “But all three are pretty fuckin’ old. The Pug and the Great Dane were dropped off, owner surrender, because they found out they had cancer. Bad cancer.”
“Then why wouldn’t they hold them for the rest of their lives?” I felt emotions well up inside my chest.
He walked over and let all three out of their kennels.
All of them gathered around his feet and got as excited as they could with the energy they had.
“They’re not really going to get euthanized,” he admitted. “We just tell people that so they don’t get into their minds that they’re adoptable to just anybody. They’re not. All of them will require a ton of work if they are adopted. My mom takes these two home with her every night.” He pointed to the yellow Lab. “He hangs out in the office at night.”
I felt a swell of emotion rise up inside of me and said, “He’s the one I want to take home.”
Why?
Because he was now looking at me with soulful brown eyes that made me want to wrap him up in my arms and hold him forever.
For the next four weeks, he was the best dog I’d ever had the pleasure to have.
We did everything together.
I broke the law and got him a service dog vest so he could go into the stores with me.
I took him out to eat with me.
I walked him every morning like clockwork.
We chased balls—albeit not very far.
We snuggled and watched movies every night.
He was the best friend I never knew I needed.
Until one day a month later when I woke up and he was just…gone.
I’m so sad, I need a shoulder to put my legs on.
—Benedict to Haze
HAZE
“Buttersrooski!” my neighbor sing-songed. “Time to wake up, big boy!”
I smiled, my gaze going from my coffee to my phone where I had her living room displayed on my laptop.
“Butters?” she called, coming out of her room with a large t-shirt and leggings on. “Wakey wakey!”
My gaze scanned the living room for the dog, finding him near the kitchen island.
His eyes were closed, and he made no move at her voice.
Which was odd, because he always got up at her first call.
It was so weird.
I’d spent a hell of a lot of time with Butters—my mom had volunteered and owned an adoption center for pets since my first memories—and I knew that he had great hearing.
He might not move very fast, and he might not be the cleanest, but the dog knew when his name was called.
He didn’t respond to her calls, and my stomach sank.
I zoomed in on the monitor, completely forgetting about the coffee I’d just made, and watched for a sign of life in the poor guy, finding none.
“Butters, baby. Come on, time to go outside,” Nastya cooed as she slipped her feet into clogs.
Butters still didn’t respond.
Fuck.
The fingers on both hands curled, and I clenched my fist and stared.
I knew the moment she suspected he was dead.
Her entire body went stiff, and she stalled in the middle of the kitchen floor. “Butters, honey. Wake up.”
But Butters didn’t wake up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“No,” I heard her whisper.
Then she was on her knees beside the dog, and she pressed her hand over his chest, praying for it to rise, and likely knowing it wouldn’t.
Her chin dropped to her chest, and she started crying.
Her tears were silent at first, which only made it worse to watch.
Then her shoulders started to shake, and the first sob left her throat, and I knew that I couldn’t stay here and watch this.
Not and keep my job.
If I fucked this investigation up, I knew that I wouldn’t ever get her clear of it.
So I had to stay strong and go against every single instinct that I possessed.
I didn’t mean to slam my door as I left, but I did.
I didn’t mean to cut off three drivers on the way to work, but I did.
I was just so fucking angry.
Which was, of course, why my partner had to come into the room the moment I unlocked my office door and berate me.
“Any reason you’re in the office today and not at home like you said you would be?” John asked.
I shrugged, even though I knew the exact reason.
Her crying was absolutely gutting me.