woof, woof >> josefa&trevor

I spent the night in the shelter. Not that I have any home issues - god, no. If anything, home is fine, it's the best it's ever been. It could be a bit warmer, though. The shelter isn't that warm either. But at least I have the dogs with me to keep me warm.

Lately, Honey has been a bit under the weather. I treat Honey as if she's my furry friend - mostly because I think I would adopt her. I can't though, because mom's got a light allergy to dogs. Not to the point that she'd go into anaphylactic shock, but with how much she sneezes after I get home, I figure it'd be damn near close. The poor woman would end up scratching the outer layer of skin off. Honey is also the staff pet, essentially, everyone adores her. So taking her home would be a bit selfish. Honey hasn't really been touching her food, she's been a bit sluggish. More sluggish than normal, at least. She's a pretty chill dog that would only move to get her food. But now she doesn't. It felt only right to stay with her for the night and make sure she's okay. The freezing concrete was worth it though.

The morning was met with a bunch of dogs that needed let out. I did it, did my normal shit with them. We have a rotation, that way we don't have the same person sit and try to feed peanut butter-covered pills to dogs for three hours every day. Luckily, today was not my day. Today was desk day for me.

In walks in a woman, it seems in search for a pup. "Hey!" She speaks, hinting some southern hospitality. "So I'm going to need your help with this. I need either a guard dog or a shepherd, my bills keep wandering off and winding up mutt food." I give a nnod to the woman - my mind immediately in work mode. Well, we don't have too many herding dogs. They tend to fly out of the door in a district like this. "I'm not quite sure what breed would be best, any pointers?" Well, it all depends on the size, too. We don't have many larger herding dogs. Most of our herding dogs are medium, or smaller, they just have a loud bark.

"Well, it depends what size you want." I lean on the counter, resting my weight on my arms. "If you want a larger one, we've got more guard dogs than herding. We have all sorts of smaller ones, though." I give a shrug, realizing that smaller dogs are harder to consider much of a herding animal. "Not many people think a little dog that hardly passes your shins a herding dog - but they can sure as hell do it." Sometimes it depends on who the owner is, too. Connection is everything with animals - even if they are just for work.

"If anything, you can come on back and see if any fit your fancy?" If anything, she might just take one for the road. Who knows.


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I can sense a dog person when I see one. It's like a sensory thing. A vibe. If someone's coming out of their way just in search of a guard dog, they're more business oriented. Straight to the point. Know what they want. Sometimes they want some guidance about which breed. Sure, the occasional person doesn't know, but they don't show as much excitement for dogs if they're figuring it out. It's like a baby who's learning to talk. They're trying to figure it out. But once that baby knows how to say "NO", good lord, have mercy.

Luckily, I didn't have Sammie here to distract me today. She's been out lately. Focusing on other stuff, as if the shelter didn't raise her. I guess it's something with her grandmother again. But something tells me she's trying to leave. Sure, a dog shelter won't be forever. But why not? What do other places provide that I - ah, forget it.

The dog-searcher interrupts my Sammieism. "Oh, that sounds perfect," and we head out into the actual pound. A gate lifted, and a hanger presented a resting place for her coat. Stepping into the room washes one's ears with the chorus of barks. It's chaotic and even overwhelming at first for new ears. But it's not the worst to hear for someone who sleeps in these cages. There are a few beats as we stand there. I don't know where she wants to go first, and I don't want to take her on the scenic route of dogs. That's for later.

It's like that fancy little market that makes you go in a certain line. You follow through the corridors of vegetables, meats, dairy, and other market goods, saving the better items for last. The ones that give you those quick doses of happiness. They're cheap, too, so you can't resist throwing a few extra snacks in the bin. "I think," pause, as she ponders her options. "Show me the guard dogs first, I think, the big ones."

I provide a reassuring smile. There's no hating what a girl wants! If anything, it's spiritual. You and the dog both know when the time is right. "Great! Follow me this way." I lead her down a few openings, the dogs getting relatively bigger as we pass each shortened hall. Dogs bark, and some dash toward the cage door at the sight of a new face. They know that somepuppy is getting out of there. "These right here are our bigger breeds. I'd go with a Bullmastiff if anything" I offer my hand toward a cage that holds one of our mastiffs. It's got that bull doggy face but that mastiff build. "If you want something softer but still gets the job done, we've got some furry pals too." I take a few steps down, and some form of mountain dog - Estrela or something - is on the left. "Of course, you can look around, too. Find if any of them connect with you." A key dangles from my finger as I pull out the ring. "You can play with as many or as few as you want." Normally, we don't allow it, but I feel like seeing a smile today.