As we walked down the center of the barn, I explained how the dogs would be kept. “They’ll have a lot of time out in the yard every day, but they’ll each have their own pen to come back to, with beds and their own food and water. Shared spaces sometimes, but at the beginning, at least, they’ll each have their own space.”
“Dad’s told me all about it, but seeing it is a very different thing. What you guys have done up here already is impressive.”
“Not just us. You’ll be here too,” I said innocently.
“I will?”
“Sure, your dad volunteered your services evenings and weekends, free of charge. He didn’t tell you?”
“He seems to have neglected to mention that.” He leaned against one of the stalls. “But it sounds good to me.”
“Nights and weekends? Free of charge? Fantastic!” I clapped my hands. He pushed himself off the stall and moved a bit closer.
“Might as well. My nights and weekends aren’t too exciting these days.”
“Oh, I can’t believe that. A good-looking guy like you?”
“Good looking, huh?”
“Well, you kind of set me up for that one, didn’t you?” I laughed, noticing how close he’d gotten. “Besides, all the good-looking guys are going around with white stripes on their black shirts these days—it’s all the rage. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble picking up the ladies.”
“White stripes?” he asked, puzzled.
I stepped to his side and ran my hand across his back, then showed it to him.
“You could’ve warned me!” he exclaimed, spinning around quickly as if to see the back of his own shirt.
“What part of ‘I’m painting the stalls in the barn’ did you not get?” I laughed, and it felt good, easy. “Don’t worry, it’s milk paint. It’ll come right out in the wash.”
“Good. I should get those bags out of my truck and let you get back to your afternoon. Or night, I suppose now. Dusk. Whatever.”
“Yes, let me get back to my dusk, please,” I teased, and we headed back toward the truck. We walked in silence, and within a few seconds I felt the need to fill it. “My nights and weekends are pretty thin on excitement too, you know.”
Overshare. Overshare. Overshare.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, and I could feel my cheeks begin to burn.
Why in the world had I said that? I quickly said, “Yes, I’m actually enjoying the peace and quiet. It’s a good change of pace. So, Marge said you were involved with Vets Without Borders? Tell me about that.”
We’d reached the truck, and he went around to the back and started unloading the big bags of Dog Chow as I directed him toward the shed. As he unloaded, he told me all about this wonderful program. It’s exactly like what it sounds like: they go where the vets aren’t. They identify areas that need quality veterinary care, and doctors donate their time and service to that community. Pets, strays, you name it, they care for it. And as eighteen bags of Dow Chow were unloaded, he painted a picture of a coastal village in Guatemala, and the sweet people he met there. Sleeping in barracks with other volunteers, spending evenings around beach bonfires, working long hours in the hot sun. He was heading out again for another tour in a couple of months, to Belize, and he’d be gone twelve weeks again.
“How’d you get involved with them?” I asked as he stacked the last bag. For every one bag I lugged across the yard, he fireman-carried three. He wasn’t even out of breath, and I wondered what it took to make him pant a little. I further wondered why I was already a bit sad he was leaving for twelve weeks, when I barely knew him.
“Let’s just say I needed to get out of town for a while,” he said, his eyes darkening a bit.
“I totally understand. That’s why I’m up here. I couldn’t stand being in San Diego any longer,” I said, playing with a leaf that had fallen into his truck bed as he sat on the truck gate.
Looking intrigued, he said, “Oh, you have a story too? I bet it isn’t as bad as mine.”
Well, fudge. Now I was intrigued.
“Oh, mine’s pretty bad,” I warned, twirling the leaf.
“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” he asked.
“You think I’m just going to whip out my sad tale to see if it’s as big as yours?” I teased.
“Yes, that’s the general idea.” A last ray of sunshine beamed through the gathering clouds, gilding his face.