Page 26 of Lift Me Up

Mary laughs, coming around her desk to pull me into a hug. “Welcome to the Pawsitive family, Georgie.”

“Thanks.” I flash a shy smile, then glance at Noah to see what I should be doing next.

“Well, let’s go greet everyone and see who you connect with, and then we’ll go for that walk.” He claps his hands, eager to get going.

I follow him down the hallways into the back room where he greets other volunteers, introducing me like I’m now one of the gang. It’s overwhelming to say the least, but Noah has a grace about him that is calming and makes everyone feel at ease. It makes me feel at ease.

When he looks my way, his smile is blinding, “What are you thinking?”

“It’s a lot. I’m happy to be here though. Also, how was I cleared so quickly? Don’t they like, vet the volunteers for weeks before letting them in? They haven’t asked me for my credit scores and what I ate for breakfast yet.”

He chuckles, “I vouched for you.”

“But how could you know that I’m good with dogs when I am clearly a cat person?”

“Valid argument as ever, Georgie. But really, I think I know you well enough by now to know you’ll be great here. Plus, if you hate it, you never have to come back again.”

He stops in front of a pin pad locked door with a window that lets you look inside. I see a long row of kennels with glass doors, not cages and wired fence. The source of the barking grows louder.

“Ready?” Noah asks, hand poised to enter a pin he must know by heart.

I nod. “Yes. Absolutely. But… I do have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“Who is Birdie?”

His eyes light up, and he holds his hand out for me to take, “Follow me. Let’s get you acquainted, shall we?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

GEORGIE

Iam absolutely in love.

Birdie steals my heart the moment I lay eyes on her in her kennel. Each door has a little ‘facts about me’ sheet about each pup we pass. While some are perfectly content in their kennels, others are completely shut down. Birdie is one of those dogs. Her cheat sheet has a photo of her smiling, tongue hanging out and eyes lit up with happy dog energy. It’s the complete opposite to the dog I see inside the small space, curled up in the little bed they’ve given her and tucked under a small blanket, her toys discarded, food barely touched.

Noah calls to her to let her know we’re entering the kennel, and her little face pokes out of the blanket to greet him. I melt. She’s the sweetest little thing, an average-sized pitbull breed, white colouring with grey spots on her ears, her sad grey-blue eyes that turn you into a puddle of goo the moment you look at her. She has markings on her face that suggest where she came from before was not kind to her. She’s got battle scars, just like me. I try not to tear up at the thought of this precious baby being anything but loved and adored.

Birdie stands from her safety nest she’s created, slowly waddles her little pittie body over to Noah, who has already crouched to greet her on her own time. She walks right into his outstretched arms and places her chin on his shoulder as he coos and praises her. He settles against the wall and lets her snuggle in.

When I sit down against the opposite wall, Birdie’s eyes open when I make noise. She looks between Noah, and then me, and then decides that she’s going to give me a once over. Noah remains silent, and I remain still as she sniffs me from feet to chin. I gauge Noah’s reaction and I realize this must be a big deal for her because he’s beaming.

“Good girl, Birdie.” He says softly when she sits beside me, approving that I am good, she can trust me.

She sniffs my thighs longer than anywhere else, and I wonder if she knows that I have HS flares there right now. Maybe she can sense it, maybe she can smell it. She licks my leggings, which confirms that question in an instant, before she circles once, twice, and then lays down with her head in my lap. Her eyes slip closed and she sighs, and I’m unsure what I should do with my hands.

I must look as unsure as I feel, because Noah lets out a soft laugh.

I glare at him, “What’s so funny?”

“She normally doesn’t warm up to people that quickly. She takes her time judging a person. Took me weeks to get her to not growl at me when she first came here.”

“You’re kidding.” I say, looking down at the pretty girl in my lap.

“Scout’s honour.” He crosses his heart, “She knows you’re good people.”

“How long has she been here?” I ask.