“I’m Emily Miles, the founder of The Wagging Tail.”
“Hi.” Not even a semblance of a smile.
Susannah jumped up and raced forward with her tail waving. Smiling now, which did wonders for her face, the girl petted the happy canine. “Cool dog. What happened to his leg?”
“Actually, she’s female. Her name is Susannah. When she arrived at the shelter, she had a bad infection in her foreleg. We had to amputate.”
The girl looked horrified. As if knowing they were talking about her, Susannah woofed softly and retreated to the rug.
“Some of the dogs we take in are in pretty bad shape,” Emily said. “But with love, patience and a good home, miracles can happen. I’ll bet you’re here because you want to do a semester of community service at The Wagging Tail.”
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”
“It’s that time of year. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Taylor.”
“Nice to meet you. Which school do you attend?”
“Trenton High.”
The school was less than a mile from the shelter. Emily nodded. “Are you a freshman?”
“Sophomore.”
“Okay. Do you have any experience with dogs?”
Taylor looked at her as if she were crazy. “I like them.”
“Have you ever owned or taken care of one?”
The girl shook her head and crossed her arms. “Why are you asking so many questions? I said I liked them.” As in, Isn’t that enough?
Not exactly the warm and friendly personality Emily wanted at the shelter. Although Taylor had been both with Susannah. As a teen, Emily had never been this sullen, certainly not when she wanted a job.
“I’ve had a lot of interest from high school kids this semester, and I may be full,” she said. Most of them had left any attitude behind and put on their best faces. “But if you’d like to fill out an application, I’ll look it over and get back to you.”
“You don’t want me.”
For one telling moment, Taylor’s shoulders slumped. Then the surly look reappeared and she raised her head.
Emily guessed that she’d been rejected by someone, somewhere. Having been there herself, when her father had walked out of her life, she sympathized. “I didn’t say that,” she replied with a smile. “School started in late August, and here we are a few weeks later. Most of the kids who want to work here applied last week.” She patted the stack of applications on the desk. “I’m in the process of selecting volunteers now.”
“We only moved here a few days before school started. I would’ve come in sooner, but I just found out about this place.”
While it seemed a plausible excuse, Emily wondered if Taylor’s attitude had cost her opportunities at other organizations. Wanting to help the girl, she opened a desk drawer and pulled out a blank application. “There’s still time to apply.” She handed the form over. “Why don’t you fill this out?”
“Whatever.” The girl stuffed the paper into her backpack. “Where are the other dogs?”
“They spent most of the afternoon out back. Now they’re in the kennel—that building over there.” Emily pointed at what had once been a large, detached garage. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Uh, yeah.” Taylor’s snarky tone indicated that this was obvious.
Shaking her head at the girl’s hostility, Emily leashed Susannah, then led Taylor down the concrete walkway. The afternoon sun had barely begun its descent toward the horizon, but already the air was noticeably cooler and felt like autumn. In central Montana, the weather was known to change quickly, and in a matter of hours, the temperature could vary by as much as twenty degrees.
Leaving Susannah tethered outside the kennel, Emily opened the door and gestured for Taylor to enter. Harvey, the architect Emily had met when he’d adopted a mixed-breed female from the shelter, and who she’d started dating soon after, had reconfigured the garage into a perfect space to house the dogs. Six large cages were spread across the clean cement floor, each equipped with a dog bed, and food and water bowls. A sink and tub for bathing the animals filled one corner, and a stainless steel exam table took up another, along with shelves and cabinets laden with towels and supplies. One large, airy window flooded the space with light, and good insulation and a heating and cooling system kept the temperature comfortable no matter what the weather.
“As you can see, we’re currently filled up,” Emily said.
Taylor looked puzzled. “But there are only six dogs here.”
“Unfortunately, right now, this is all I have room for. We also have two quarantine huts for when new dogs come in.”
Another of Harvey’s contributions to the shelter. Emily could actually think about him now without a twinge of the heartbreak she’d suffered when he’d left some fifteen months earlier.
Taylor angled her head and frowned. “Why do you quarantine new dogs?”
“Because they might carry infectious diseases, and we don’t want to expose the other animals.”
A brown-and-white spaniel-terrier mix whined, and Taylor headed forward.
“Wait,” Emily cautioned in a low voice. “He’s been abused and could bite you out of fear. To keep him from feeling threatened, lower your eyes and put your knuckles close to the bars so that he can smell you.”
Taylor looked taken aback, but complied. After much sniffing and studying her, the dog at last licked her hand through the bars.
“He likes me.” She looked pleased. “What’s his name?”
“We don’t usually name them,” Emily explained. “We let the families who adopt them do that.”
She checked her watch. The front office had been empty for some minutes now. “I need to get back to the office, in case the phone rings or someone else comes in.”
Taylor nodded, and they headed back. As they sauntered down the walkway, the girl’s cell phone trilled out bars from some rock song. “If you wanna stick around you gotta cut me some slack,” a male voice twanged.
She glanced at the screen and frowned before answering. “Hey, Seth,” she said in a bored voice. She listened a moment. “No, I ditched the bus. I’m at The Wagging Tail. The. Wagging. Tail,” she repeated, with exaggerated impatience. “It’s a dog shelter?” Another silence. “It’s for community service. I’m supposed to volunteer, remember? Can you pick me up here?” She listened again. “Yeah, I know I was supposed to call.” The irritated breath she blew was loud enough for the person on the other end to hear. “I forgot, okay? Bye.” She disconnected.
Talk about unfriendly. She’d been okay with the dogs, but Emily couldn’t picture
