A Hero Adoption

Peter straightened his glasses as he stared blankly at his computer screen. Several times he'd attempted to produce a healthy chunk of text only to delete it in frustration. The only words that stuck were the title - ‘Adopting A Pet Can Change Your Life.’ Fluff news like this bored him to tears, but somehow he always managed to get stuck writing articles that nobody really cared about. In his two years at The Hatteras Post he’d never been picked for a front-page story.   

“Cat got your tongue?” Thomas grinned as he stood in Peter’s small cubicle doorway with two coffees. He had obviously seen Peter’s boring headline. He offered Peter a coffee.

“Very funny,” Peter said, although he didn’t find it very funny at all. “I don’t even own a pet. How am I supposed to write about one? I’d rather write about the levee leaks in Hope Town and how it’s washing farms away. Even your assignment on the city’s sewer maintenance is more exciting than adopting a pet.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about that. Those levee leaks are causing a problem with our sewers, but I think I’d rather have your pet problem. Why don’t you visit the SPCA? They've got tons of animals and I’m sure someone that works there can tell you how the adoption process works. Maybe they can point you in the right direction.”  

“That’s not a bad idea.” Peter took a sip of his too-hot coffee and winced a little adding, “It’ll be a miracle if I can pull this one off.” Peter stood up and stretched. “Thanks for the coffee.” He pulled on his jacket and made his way through the winding path of cubicles to the elevator.

The sky was grey as he drove across town to the local SPCA shelter. It sat on a large property that housed a mix of cats and dogs, and they even had a turtle named Jim. Peter greeted the girl at the front desk, and told her that he was writing an article for The Hatteras Post about animal adoptions.  

“Well, my name is Stacy. Let me show you around! It’ll be fun!” Peter silently wondered if she was always so cheerful.

Stacy grabbed a massive ring of keys from a peg on the wall. “Let’s get started!” she almost cheered. At least the day will be a pleasant one, he thought.

Stacy led Peter down a large sidehall where one wall was packed with dog cages; smaller pups above, and larger dogs below. They were all barking. He was about eye level with what looked like a giant puffball. Stacy told him that the little guy inside the crate was a baby Pomeranian. She rattled off some stats about his breed, and then some more information as far as adoption went. She said the puffball had a high chance of being adopted because he was very young.

Before they had gone far, Peter noticed one of the dogs in a bottom crate looking right at him. “Dax,” he read from the paper nameplate. “Hey buddy!” Dax didn’t bark, whine, or growl. Instead, the dog stood perfectly still and tilted his head with an ear perked up. He was mostly black, but had even strips of white that ran along both sides of his face and around his bright blue eyes, and he had white feet. Peter instantly decided that he liked Dax.

Peter followed Stacy to some outdoor stalls that held more dogs, and then through some indoor rooms that held cats. After his tour of the facility, back in the office, Peter watched Jim the turtle eat some pelleted food. Stacy showed him the form people filled out for adoption, and explained what was included in the shelter fees.

“So about Dax… why hasn’t he been adopted yet?” Peter asked.

“I’m not really sure. He’s well-behaved, shows no signs of aggression, and he’s only about a year and a half old. He’s a beautiful dog, but usually people come here with their kids and they want puppies or kittens.”

“I see,” Peter replied. “Can I take this form with me?”

“Absolutely! Good luck with your article!” Stacy gave him a huge smile. He thanked her for her time, and turned to leave.

The day turned into a rainy one as Peter drove back to the office. He turned his windshield wipers on full speed, but he was still having a hard time seeing the brake lights on the cars ahead.

He finally made it back to his office complex. He pulled his jacket all the way over his head and made a quick dash inside the building. In his cubicle, he took off his jacket and tried to shake the rain from it. The SPCA adoption paper fell to the floor. Peter thought about Dax. He hung the jacket on a hook, put the paper on his desk, and resumed his article. He’d gotten about two paragraphs in when he put his elbow on the desk, rested the side of his face on his hand, and gave a long sigh. He picked up the adoption paper, scanned it, and put it back down. Maybe he could adopt Dax.

The more he thought about Dax the dog, the more the idea of having a friend to come home to appealed to him. He lived alone in a two bedroom duplex with a fenced-in backyard, so there was plenty of room. Why not, he thought. He pulled out a pen and started filling in the lines and questions.

“Made a friend?” Thomas was back and he was reading the paper that Peter was filling out.

“I think I did. We’ll see soon enough. I’m gonna head out a little early and pick him up on my way home.”

“That’s great!” Thomas put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, at least you’ll be able to finish your adopt-a-pet article.” Thomas gave a short laugh as Peter stood up.

“Yeah, have fun in the city sewers,” Peter grinned back. He pulled on his soaking wet jacket that was now cold against his skin, and made his way back to the elevator and out to his car.

Peter had to drive much slower this time because the wind was blowing so hard that it made him swerve a few times. He stopped by a grocery store to buy some dog food, and arrived at the shelter shortly thereafter. He ran inside where the cheerful Stacy greeted him enthusiastically.

“Great to see you again so soon! Did you have some more questions?”

“I’m here for Dax.” Peter pulled the paperwork out of his inside pocket and handed it to Stacy.

“Very nice! Do you need a leash? We have some here for sale.” She motioned to the back wall. Peter picked out a bright blue collar and a black leash. She left the office and returned a short time later with Dax.

When Dax saw Peter he started wagging his tail. Stacy handed the leash to Peter, and as if on cue, Dax walked to his side, sat down, and looked up at him. Peter felt a new happiness as he bent down to pet Dax.  

“Can you hold him here so I can pull my car up close to the door?” Peter asked Stacy. She took the leash and Peter ran out to his car. He pulled as close as possible to the front door of the building, got out into the pouring rain, and opened the back door of the car. Stacy led Dax out and he jumped right in. Peter got back in the front seat and looked at Dax in the rearview mirror. “Ready to go home, boy?” He was sure the dog smiled back at him.

Peter kept both hands on the wheel as he carefully maneuvered his way through traffic. As he made his way out of the city, the wind eased up and the rain became lighter and lighter, and eventually, he saw a few rays of sunlight peeking their way through the clouds.

The road Peter lived on was quite the contrast of the busy city streets he worked on. His 55-minute commute took him past rural fields and open landscapes. On his last stretch of road, he was winding through a curve when he saw an overturned pickup truck that had run off the embankment and into a deep ditch.

Peter pumped the brakes and came to a stop where the muddy tire tracks left the road. He clicked on his caution lights, threw open the car door, and started running towards the truck. He slid most of the way down the embankment, and by the time he reached the truck his heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his eardrums.  

“Hello?” Peter’s adrenaline was pumping hard as he called out, but there was no reply. He ran around to the other side of the truck, but found no one there either. He turned to the field beyond the truck. “Hello!” He yelled louder this time, but there was still no response.  

Suddenly, he heard something running towards him. It was Dax. He had stupidly left the car door open. The dog ran right past him. “Dax! Come here!” He started to panic. He couldn’t very well run after his dog when there was a much bigger problem at stake. Where was the driver?  

Cell phone! He struggled to run back up the steep embankment where his phone was sitting in the cup holder. He grabbed it and dialed 9-1-1. Peter waited for what felt like forever, but after only a few seconds, the operator came on. Peter frantically told her about the truck, their location, and the missing driver. The dispatcher promised to send help his way.

As Peter was running back down the embankment, he heard barking. He looked past the truck and into the open field. He could see Dax standing a short distance away beside a mound of something. Peter got closer and saw that the mound was actually a man laying there.

Peter ran to him. “Sir, sir! What happened? Are you hurt?” The man just looked at him. “What is your name?”

“Br..an..don…” The man was clearly dazed and confused.

“Hi Brandon, I’m Peter.” He made sure to speak slowly because Brandon looked quite disoriented. “It looks like you’ve bumped your head pretty hard, so let’s try to get you closer to the truck. When the paramedics get here, they'll be able treat you. Is that okay?”

Brandon nodded slowly, so Peter wiggled himself under Brandon's right arm. Together, they hobbled along with Dax positioned on Brandon’s left side acting as a guide of sorts. Smart dog, Peter thought as he felt his heart beam with pride.

The distant sound of sirens got louder and louder as they approached Peter’s car. At the top of the hill, firemen and paramedics were already starting their careful descent into the ditch. They caught up to Peter and Brandon and immediately began processing the scene.

During the next half-hour, Peter talked with police, paramedics, and firemen. A tow truck was called in to pull the overturned truck from the ditch, and a few minutes later, Peter was finally on his way home.  

Peter pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and opened the car door for Dax. The dog trotted right up to the front door of the duplex like he’d lived there his whole life. They went inside where Peter put some dog food in one bowl and water in another. He sat down on the couch and recounted the events of the day. He pulled out his laptop, opened a blank document, and typed a new title - ‘Adopted Dog Helps Save A Man’s Life.’