Gentry's Kennel

This is a story written by me and my Mum last New Years Eve. I hope you enjoy it.

I hear the door to the corridor slam shut, the other dogs quietened for a second and the new smell entered the kennels.

I saw them – more importantly I saw her, and I knew she was the one. But she was guarded against everything – there was a wall surrounding her aura, bubbling her against everyone and everything.

But he – he was a different matter altogether. They were here together, but it was him who had the air of determination about him. If anyone, it was he who would walk out of here today with one of us.

It had to be me.

I had to be with her. She was the one.

She spoke then to him. “You do know we’re only here to look don’t you?”

“Yes, I know that”.

He peered intently into each kennel, scrutinising and examining every dog. I couldn’t work it out, she was the one I was supposed to leave here with – but how could I if she had no interest in any of us at all? I knew that the saddest brown eyes I could conjure up wouldn’t melt her today. Even the man she was with, who seemed to be her partner, she was guarded against. There was no flow of affection from her to him. There was no flow of affection from her at all. I couldn’t bear it. How could she be so closed?

I started to question my little voice, my guidance again. “Is she really the one I’m supposed to help? To guard? How can I guard her, protect and help her when she’s so closed off from the world?”

True to form, the little voice remained annoyingly quiet when I could really do with a word of encouragement. But the feeling that settled around my heart was one of contentment, rightness, purpose and truth.

The feelings of despair, sadness, and frustration in my head I resigned to ignoring.

She spoke again, my ears pricked up to catch every nuance of her tone. “How about this one? It’s a staffy cross.”

He was unimpressed in his response. “Don’t know why you want a staffy – or is it just because that’s what your mum has?”

“No. My thoughts were that we know nothing of the dog’s history at all, and we may as well try one that one of us has an inkling of understanding of it’s character to get as much help as possible”.

“Well, it’s too young anyway. They said we had to look for one that was an adult”.

I knew of the dog they spoke of. He was young, very young – brought in because he was too energetic for his owners and their young family to cope with.

But at that moment, they passed by my kennel. I can remember it as clear as anything – the red brick walls giving off an earthy smell which was almost overpoweringly overwhelmed by disinfectant. The tiles on the floor – red quarry tiles – again, the earthy and disinfectant smell. The other dogs, so many different dogs, the smell of them all, and the noise can be overpowering at times, and all through the air there’s a faint smell of metal – the wire doors, the bars that keep us in our places, and the medicinal and frighteningly clean smell of the vet’s room.

It all seemed too much.

But one look into her face and I knew somehow – that everything would work out.

I felt it. Her eyes met mine, and her wall disintegrated – for a fraction of a second, but it went. The feeling of love, companionship, safety that emanated from her in that second would have been enough to last me a lifetime if that was the closest I could ever have come to knowing her.

Before I knew it though, her guard was back. He however, fell for the ‘old man’ act as soon as he saw me.

They walked past the door to the kennel, although he gave no more than a cursory glance into each room he passed from this point. She seemed even more guarded though – and I thought my chance had been blown.

They walked out of the door at the other end of the corridor. Just before they left though, I sensed a change in her. She didn’t want to leave. I didn’t know if it was me she wanted to return for, or some other reason, but she didn’t want to leave.

I sat against the wall. I knew I didn’t look my best, they looked after us well enough in the kennels, but baths, and hair trims were unheard of. The other dogs just went back to whatever they were doing before they walked through. Chasing toys, chasing each other, sleeping… whatever they found gave them most comfort.

I couldn’t do anything though. I just sat and watched them – unable to loose myself in the fantasy/unreality of pretending that ball is really a rabbit, or a mouse. Things that were too important were looming. It felt like my future was laid out in front of me – a fork in the road. One fork was dark, forboding, menacing. The other was green fields, love, warmth and companionship.

The minutes ticked past. A few other people walked through the kennels, some with children, some on their own. I’d almost given up any kind of hope and was starting to nod where I was sat, when the metal catch opened. One of the workers came over to me, popped a lead around my neck and said “Lets go for a walk”.

I’d only done this particular walk once before. They take you around the kennels, past a field with some horses in, to another field that’s a fair bit smaller. The last time I came in here was about a month ago. I was too interested in the smells of the creatures that ran through the grass of an evening to think about anything else that may or may not be in the field.

This time though – I smelled her from before I even reached the gate. She was there!! He was too, and lets face it, he was the key to being with her.

My whole body changed in the instant I recognised her. My ears shot up, my tail started wagging, and I couldn’t help but dance on the end of my lead. I saw the two people in the middle of the field. Her guard was definitely up. As soon as the gate shut though, he dropped onto one knee and held his arms out. My lead was slipped from around my neck, and I ran for all I was worth towards them.

From about 8 feet away, I jumped. I couldn’t help it – I just wanted to fly into her heart. But as wings aren’t given out generally to dogs, I made do with a jump. But that jump landed me straight onto his chest, which was the clincher.

I made her smile – she smiled – and it was as sunshine through clouds after a storm. Or a warm bed by the radiator after a long cold walk.

He didn’t ask her opinion, but said to the worker “I think we’ll take this one”.

Calm settled into my body already buzzing with nervous tension.

I did it. I’m going home. I’m going home to her.

Gentry & Zoe.