came the deep voice of a kennel technician from inside another pen. “She’s not good around children. She’s going to need a very quiet, experienced home to help her with her confidence.”
Heather felt her mother’s firm, reassuring hand grasp her shoulder, and together they continued along the rows of home-seeking dogs.
“Hey! What about this one?” came Thomas’s voice from the far end of the viewing room.
At the back of the pen was a small, fawn-coloured Staffordshire Bull Terrier with ears that resembled crumpled autumn leaves. His brown, expressive eyes were alert, but friendly, and as Heather and Joan approached, he stood up from his bed, stretched, and bounded toward the front of the pen to greet them enthusiastically.
Thomas stuck his little hand into the enclosure, and the chubby puppy licked and mouthed his hand gently while pawing at his sleeve.
“Now that’s a great dog for you,” said the kennel technician brightly as he came over to join them. “He was found as a stray, but he’s very friendly. He’s young, so he’s very trainable, and he tested safe around children and other dogs. He’s a Staffordshire Bull Terrier, but don’t let the ‘Bull’ part put you off. Staffies are great family dogs and can adapt to almost any lifestyle.”
Heather scrunched her face up as both her mother and brother fawned over the energetic puppy. She was unnerved at the sight of the huge, toothy grin the dog seemed to be giving.
“Daddy, daddy! We got you a present!” exclaimed Thomas as he and his mother carried Zak’s crate and a bag of pet supplies into the house.
Heather watched quietly from the safety of the sofa as the boisterous puppy zoomed around the living and bulldozed into her grandmother’s the coffee table. The puppy, now named “Zak” was tearing around the entire first floor of the house, mouthing everything he encountered and performing exaggerated play-bows, appealing for someone to engage him in play. She looked over at her father, his gaze focused entirely on his unexpected, hyperactive gift. She watched in silent hope as the faintest ghost of a smile formed on her father’s face.
Almost immediately, Steve and Zak became inseparable companions. Zak provided Heather’s father with some much-needed comfort, and his need for daily walks encouraged Steve to make more of an effort to get up each morning and head out of the front door. Having a dog turned out to be a great way to engage in light conversation with strangers, and both Heather and Thomas noticed that visits to their father’s house were much more cheerful than they had been in months. He had even started to shave again.
During the fleeting summer months, Heather would look forward to the weeklong camping trips she took with her mother’s family. Sadly, her father was never quite well enough to join in the fun, but being bundled together in caravan with her favourite cousins and doting aunties and uncles were the holidays Heather looked forward to the most. This summer, the whole family had chosen to explore the beautiful Lake District in the north of England. The Lake District is famous for its rugged beauty, its untamed expanse of ancient woodland and forest, and of course its stunning, seemingly endless sapphire blue lakes.
For a whole week, Heather scarcely had a moment to rest. Her days were full of laughter as she hiked, fished, and giggled with her cousins as they swapped secrets. By night, everyone would huddle around the campfire in their pyjamas and drink hot chocolate with marshmallows as the uncles and older cousins took turns sharing ghost stories and spine-chilling urban legends. By the time Heather’s head hit the pillow each night, she was already sound asleep, peacefully dreaming of the previous day’s fun and anticipating the promise of more sunshine adventures to come.
“Heather?”
From her deep sleep, Heather could hear someone calling her name.
“Heather, wake up, love.”
She cracked her sleep-filled eyes open just the tiniest amount and groaned as the morning light poured into her eyes. She could just about make out the silhouette of her mother. For a moment, she thought that she might be dreaming, but her mother spoke again.
“You need to wake up and pack your things, love. We have to leave.”
Heather rubbed her eyes and sat up in her air mattress. Looking around, she could see that her cousins were all still asleep, peacefully snoring under many mismatched blankets and duvets.
“W-why? What’s wrong?” she croaked.
“It’s your father” her mother whispered. “He’s taken a turn for the worse and we have to go to him straight away.”
The guttural sound of the car rang in Heather’s ears as they raced back up the motorway toward Glasgow. A cold numbness descended on Heather as they tried desperately to make their way to the hospital. Vaguely, she could hear her mother trying to calm Thomas down, so, to spare her mother’s feelings, Heather held back her own tears and asked no questions. She allowed her mind to shift into autopilot as she silently hoped and prayed that she was somehow having a bad dream.
She did not notice her mother furiously shouting at the security guard who protested her parking the car in a reserved space. She did not feel her legs moving as they ran up the stairs of the car park and sprinted toward the hospital reception doors. She could hardly register the words of the nurse who ushered them through the labyrinth of sterile corridors and bleak waiting areas.
Not until they reached a private room, where a sombre looking surgeon was waiting outside for them, did Heather finally realise that she was not dreaming. Her heart shattered as the sound of her mother’s distraught cries pierced her mental fog and brought her back to reality.
Whether a minute or an hour had passed, Heather did not know. She looked up at her mother, who was crying into the surgeon’s shoulder, and then she glanced down at Thomas. His large, watery eyes and lost expression awoke a strength in Heather which she hadn’t known before. She silently vowed that she would be strong for her family as she held her brother and hugged her mother.
The funeral passed by in a blur of flowers and familiar faces. Heather stayed true to her promise. She bit her lip as the coffin bearers carried her father’s casket into the church, and she held her chin up as family members cupped her shoulder and told her to be strong. The summer sun did little to warm Heather or lift her spirits, but she valiantly tried to continue on with an air of normalcy for the sake of everyone around her.
A week after the funeral, Heather awoke to find her mother and grandmother having coffee and cake in the kitchen. She could tell from their red noses and the abundance of tissues on the table that they had been crying, so she greeted her grandmother with a smile and as much warmth as she could possibly muster. As she hugged her grandmother, Heather heard a small whimper, and she glanced down to see Zak in his pet carrier.
“Your father left him to you,” said her grandmother.
Heather was stunned into silence. Her mother smiled and nodded at her in an encouraging manner. Crouching down onto her knees, Heather peered into the carrier at the lost-looking puppy. He seemed depressed, his sad eyes accentuated by how flat his ears were lying against his head. Although she liked Zak, she only saw him on her weekend visits to her dad’s house, and she was secretly still afraid of his energy and his habit of putting his huge mouth around everything he could fit in it.
Joan could sense her daughter’s hesitation.
“It’s alright if you don’t want to take him, Heather. We can find him a good home somewhere else.” Almost as though Zak could understand their conversation,
