Dogs jumped at their gates, tails thumping, paws scraping metal. Lily clung to Emily’s shirt, fascinated and overwhelmed at the same time. David leaned close. “This is… a lot,” he shouted over the noise. Emily gave him a sympathetic look but kept moving down the row, smiling at the dogs and reading the names clipped to each kennel.
“Bella — super playful,” “Rocky — loves kids,” “Sasha — energetic.” She lingered in front of each one, but nothing clicked. Most of the dogs seemed to be trying so hard — barking, leaping, doing anything to be noticed. And then she saw him. At the very end of the row, alone in the last kennel, sat a large German Shepherd. He wasn’t barking.