Jeannette Saysomvang

Henry Thompson walked out of the bar. Another dead night, he stuffed the measly remnants of
his tip jar into his pockets. While summer was warmer and it brought a certain energy to the bar, Gaffney
was practically a ghost town when school let out. But Charlies always made it through. Closing was a
pain, but being the only bartender meant he got to keep a majority of the tips. He had the next four days
to just himself, because he had taken them off to spend the weekend camping with Tamara. He
grudgingly wondered if she still went without him.
He was about to cut through the alley that ran along the side of the bar, when he heard a clatter.
He paused, not wanting to meet a mean raccoon in such a narrow space. Another clatter, then a small
whimper.
Something that sounds so helpless cant be that dangerous. Henry thought to himself. He slowly
made his way around the piles of garbage and peaked around the corner, ready to sprint if need be.
Sitting on some broken down cardboard was a small lump of grey fur. Henry almost thought it was dead,
but he saw a slight rise and fall of what must have been its chest. He turned and started walking in the
other direction when he heard the cry again, more clearly this time. It had to be a puppy.
He paused. He could keep walking, or he could go make sure it was okay. Tamara had always
been the one who loved animals, he had always thought of them as a hassle.
Well, Tamara may be a cheating whore, but that isnt the fault of some poor animal.
He turned around and approached the lump. He could make out a curled tail, and tiny ribs. This
thing was starving, only an ass would be able to walk away now. He picked it up as gently as possible,
cradling it close to his chest. It looked up at him with concern, but didnt squirm and made very little noise.
He got home and took an old box from his closet and threw a sweater into it, and gently placed
the puppy in the box. He only had beer and cereal in his fridge so he made a mental note to go to the
store for soft food in the morning.
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The next day at the vet, the puppy sat on the little silver table, looking at him with her tail
wagging. He was calling her Maggie, and she seemed to like the name. He was growing fond of her, but
didnt really want to commit to keeping her. Dogs were expensive, and frankly he wasnt quite sure what
to do with her. The door opened and the veterinarian walked in.
Hows everyone doing today? Dr. Dent asked cheerfully.
Erm, Im okay. Im not too sure about the dog, though, I just found her last night. Henry
mumbled.
Lets take a look, She said, and started feeling the puppy all over her tiny belly. Oh dear, she is
definitely malnourished. Has she eaten today?
I bought some soft food this morning and she ate a quarter of a cup. He answered.
Well, thats good. Ill give you instructions on how to help her put on some weight. She seems
about 6 months old, and shes been fixed. How did you find her?
Henry explained the alley, and sheepishly asked her about where she could possibly be
surrendered. The vet seemed surprised, and mentioned that Maggie had seemed absolutely smitten with
him. She also pointed out that he had already named her, and that a name creates a personal attachment
that isnt easy to sever. She wrote down an address in the next city, but mentioned they would be closed
for the holiday weekend. Given that it was almost closing time, he might not get through to talk to them
before they closed.
At home, he hung the number on the fridge with a magnet. He looked at it, while Maggie toddled
over and plopped herself by his foot. He smiled. He realized that this was the first time he had smiled in a
long while. She wagged her tail and licked his foot sloppily, and looked up at him again. He reached up
and grabbed the piece of paper, crumpled it and threw it in the trash. Then he picked Maggie up and
carried her to the back yard. He spent the afternoon playing with his new best friend, and the only girl he
really needed.