Short Stories, Cecelia Winfield [best contemporary novels .txt] 📗
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- Author: Cecelia Winfield
Book online «Short Stories, Cecelia Winfield [best contemporary novels .txt] 📗». Author Cecelia Winfield
RRRRIIINNG! I looked up from the book I was reading. Who could that be? I got up and looked at the number: 384-53762. Not one I knew. I sat down and picked up my book again, if it was important they'd leave me a message. RRRRIIINNG! Apparently they hadn’t given up yet. RRRRIIINNG! *sigh* I couldn’t read with this thing ringing. I got back up and grabbed the phone off its stand, slightly annoyed. “Yes?” I said into the receiver, “Who is this?”
“Hi,” came a female voice on the other end, “this is the Animal Rescue Shelter, is this Marcy Darwin?” Why is the Animal Rescue Shelter calling me? “Yes,” I said, “This is Marci, how can I help you?” I could hear the sound of the lady typing on the computer. “We recently received a dog matching the description and tags of a dog that you reported missing about a year ago. A golden retriever-Australian sheep dog mix, correct?”
I think I must have gone very pale. Lucy. I had lost Lucy one year ago, almost to this day, and had reported her missing. After about a month I had given up hope of ever finding her again, though I had repeatedly wondered what had happened to her. And now a year later the Animal Rescue Shelter was calling me saying she had been found. “I’ll be there right away,” I said and set down the phone. I immediately grabbed my keys and purse to set out for the shelter.
***
I arrived at the shelter and practically ran up to the front counter. “I’m Marci Darwin,” I said, half panting. The lady at the counter called a woman named Susan from the back. “Where is she?” I asked her. They both knew who I was talking about and I followed Susan to the back room where they keep all the dogs they receive. She brought me to the very back where they keep the ones that aren't up for adoption for a variety of reasons. We stopped at the last kennel and I looked inside, “Lucy,” I whispered, right before I burst out crying. The dog that was in the kennel jumped up at the sound of her name and started happily barking to be let out.
Susan unbolted the door and stepped back just in time. Lucy came out light a bolt of lightning, knocking me to the ground and licking my face. I laughed and hugged her which made her lick me even more. I finally managed to get her off me enough to get a decent look at her. The shelter had mostly cleaned up her gold and cream fur, and small bits of mud and grass were the only things that showed that she had ever needed rescuing. I stroked her silky ears and she promptly licked my cheek. Finally I got over the initial half-paralysis and stood up. “Thank you,” I said, for I could find nothing else to say. “Of course,” said Susan, “But there’s one other thing…” Her sentence petered off as a young assistant came out a door in the very back wall. Much to my surprise, behind her trailed three small bundles of cream fur: puppies. "We found them with her, but we have no idea who the father is," said Susan as I stared in awe at the little puppies running towards their mother, "Well Lucy, lets see how long we can take care of this new family," I laughed, Lucy started barking and the puppies started yipping in agreement.
Well, now I have a new family, a family of four. The puppies are two now and are doing just fine, though I fear the day when they will become too much. I hope it doesn't happen soon.
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