Authors: Catherine Madera
After an hour of watching the rest of her class dance with no interest from the opposite sex, Taylor’s self confidence began to wane. It was then that she noticed Evan watching her from across the room. He appeared to be alone and smiled, motioning to her. Eight years later it was pretty funny how the moment resembled a toothpaste commercial: the sparkly disco ball accentuating Evan’s white teeth, the way the slow music seemed to start playing as if on cue. It was so obvious now that it wasn’t authentic, hind sight being 20/20 and all that.
To her 14-year-old self there was nothing funny about hunky Evan
taking note of her. There was only joy in being wanted. This was quickly
followed by devastation in the girls’ restroom.
“Why was Evan dancing with Taylo
r
Ree
d
; I though
t
yo
u
guys were a couple?”
From the safety of a closed stall Taylor listened to Stephanie Maple and Amy Bettencourt gossip as they primped in the mirror.
“W
e
ar
e
together,” Amy said. “Evan likes to make the dorks feel special. He calls it a charity dance. Did you see her face? She thinks he actually wanted to dance with her.”
It suddenly felt unbearably hot in the restroom. Taylor tried to breathe quietly, praying nobody heard any movement within the stall. After the girls left she found a phone and called her mother, complaining of an upset stomach, and asked to come home.
It was hard to say what was worse, wanting someone who didn’t want her or being completely clueless. Was it written all over her face that she wanted Jacob, too? Taylor felt sure of it. Why else would he have pulled out of her life? The “charity dance” had come to an end.
“Hi Liz.” Taylor pushed her feelings away and walked into the shelter.
“Hey,” Liz’s lips kept twitching, even after she spoke. She hitched up her leg. “Got a new resident you might like.”
“Really?”
“Take a look at the back of the kennel.”
Taylor took a deep breath as she navigated the hallway leading to the dog kennels. It was a relief to concentrate on something else for
a few hours. She didn’t see any new dogs and the very last kennel appeared
to be empty. She was about to return to the office when she noticed the tip of a long black snout poke out of the dog house at the back of the space.
“Hey pup,” Taylor moved to the chain link and peered inside, “come out so I can see you.”
She waited for a moment. When the snout disappeared and no dog came forth Taylor opened the kennel door and went inside. She moved slowly. The animals that came to the shelter all had a story to tell and it was usually an ugly one. She had learned to take her time making friends. They communicated when they were ready.
Crouching down she resisted the urge to put a hand inside the dog house and instead talked softly to the creature inside. “Hey, I’m your friend. Come out so we can meet.”
From her vantage point Taylor could only make out a mass of black hair inside the dark structure. It pressed against the walls. She continued talking and after a few minutes heard a low whine and the movement of fur. She waited. The snout again appeared at the entrance to the dog house. Amber-colored eyes looked up at her.
“Come on, pup.”
The dog didn’t look angry so she extended a hand. The snout disappeared but quickly reappeared and a pink tongue licked her fingertips.
“That’s the way. See, its friendly here.”
Taylor sat down, cross-legged, and watched as two huge paws began crawling toward her. She gasped as an enormous German Shepherd puppy inched it’s way over, lanky haunches trembling, and flopped into her lap.
“Whoa, you’re a big fella!”
She stroked the dog’s face, her mouth agape at the size of the paws that clawed into her jeans. The dog wasn’t exactly a pup, more like a gawky teenager. It licked at her, desperate for acceptance, as if she were a long-lost friend.
“He’s something, huh?”
Taylor looked up at the constantly shifting form of Liz. “He looks like a purebred.”
“He is. The woman who dropped him off says he comes from European
breeding stock, Romanian or something.”
“How does that sort of dog end up in a place like this?” Taylor stroked the dog’s dark, bushy ruff. He was almost completely black, his face sporting fringes of rust-colored hair that feathered into the black for contrast. He had clear amber eyes and an elegant head. When the dog grew into his body he would carry himself with the natural dignity unique to his breed.
“You still think only the handicapped and mismatched end up here?” Liz shook her head as if Taylor was dim-witted. “Two words: commitment and convenience. A dog like this isn’t exactly convenient. He’s big, dirty, has a double coat that needs brushing all the time, and probably knocks things over with his long tail. He looked cute at six weeks, but not so cute anymore, are you?” Liz’s voice was rough, but her eyes were soft. As she talked her hand reached for the dog’s muzzle and cupped it. “Commitment goes out the window when things get inconvenient.”
Taylor pondered Liz’s observations. She continued to pet the dog, her fingers finding a hard scabby place und
er the thick fur that ringed its neck like a necklace.
“He must have gotten injured. Feels like an old scar or something here around his neck.”
“That’s from being tied to a tree with a collar that didn’t fit. The woman who dropped him off rescued him from the Seattle area and
intended to keep him. But she got a job in Bellingham and doesn’t have room for this guy now. Abandoned twice and he’s only ten months old.”
“You think it will be hard to place him?” Taylor shifted her legs. They were going numb from the weight of the dog, but he didn’t seem to want to move from her lap.
“Hard telling. The right person needs to come in, someone who likes German Shepherds and can handle the care and feeding for a dog this size.”
As Liz talked one person immediately came to Taylor’s mind—one
who had once loved a German Shepherd and understood commitment. She thought about it the rest of the day while cleaning the facility and pondering each inconvenient creature in residence there. The dog seemed to speak to her, whining every time he heard her approach, further cementing the plan taking shape in her mind.
“Liz, my landlady has always wanted a dog for security purposes and to keep the deer out of her garden. Is there any way I could take
Kreed home with me for a couple of days and let Rowan meet him?”
“
Creed
?
”
“Yeah, with a ‘K.’” Taylor smiled, “Like it?”
Liz shrugged, as if any name would do, and turned to the coffee pot behind the desk. After refilling her mug she sat down and nodded. “Two days. And it’s only because I like you and know where you live. Take an extra large crate so you have something to keep him in at night.”
~ ~~
As she drove to Jacob’s house with Kreed snug inside a dog crate stuffed
in the back seat, Taylor thought about Liz’s compliment
:
It’s only because
I like you
.
Outside of her deceased mother, Taylor had never heard Liz positively declare affinity for another human being. She felt warm and grateful, committed to maintaining Liz’s trust even in the midst of a lie.
What felt ingenious and inspired while at the shelter began to fade to foolishness the closer Taylor got to Jacob’s house. By the time she pulled into his driveway she regretted her impulsiveness. Her heart raced while
Kreed whined in the back seat.
Taking note of a ne
w
For Sal
e
sign stuck in Jacob’s front lawn, she
shushed the dog and got out of the Toyota on unsteady legs. Jacob appeared
almost immediately at the front door.
Taylor forced her feet to move in the direction of the house, grasping at what to say. She had no idea how to explain herself. It felt impossible to articulate the words inside, especially since most of them had little to do with an unwanted German
Shepherd.
“Hi.” Taylor hesitated, stopping short of the stone walkway leading to the front door.
“Hi.” Jacob looked tired and confused. He had a weekend’s worth of stubble on his chin and wore sweats and a frayed tee shirt advertising a college sports team.
“Hi.” Taylor repeated the greeting while Jacob waited. “I was in the area and wondered how you were doing. Are you moving?”
Jacob sighed and ran his fingers through unkempt hair. “Yeah, I started packing this weekend. It’s part of the divorce agreement. I’ll still be in the area, just not in this house.”
“Are you ever going to ride with me again?” she blurted, her thoughts coming out as they had appeared in her mind over several days, stark and rambling and raw.
“Taylor,” Jacob sighed again, as if saying her name was exhausting.
“I’m going through a lot of crap right now—the house selling, my divorce
being finalized. My life is pretty messy.”
“So. I thought we were friends. What about what you told me, ‘sharing the burden’ and all that?”
Jacob’s expression softened and he smiled. “I did say that, didn’t I? I should probably take my own advice. Just not with you, Taylor.” His tone resolute, Jacob looked into her eyes as he spoke.
“Because you don’t like me that way … I get it.” Taylor looked across his yard at the real estate sign and bit her lip hard to fight back the tears that were forming. She was inconvenient in the life of a good man who had enough to deal with. “I hope your house sells.”
She turned to walk away and Jacob grabbed her hand. He squeezed it. “Thank you for being willing to share my burden. I just can’t go there with you, okay? I hope you can understand.”
At that moment a sharp bark punctuated the awkward exchange.
Jacob dropped her hand. “What do you have in there?”
“Something I wanted to show you, but it was a pretty dumb idea.” Taylor moved to the car and grabbed the door handle.
“You came here … might as well show me.” Jacob crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, the teasing look on his face a shadow of their prior rapport.
“Okay.” Taylor opened the back door of the car and released the dog. “Come,
Kreed.”
Kreed
scrambled from the crate, nearly falling to the ground when his gangly hind limbs caught the edge of the seat as he exited the small space. When he saw Jacob he cowered and inched his way to Taylor’s side keeping watchful eyes on the vet. She reached down and ruffled the hair at his neck.
“It’s okay, buddy, he’s friendly.”
Jacob took a deep breath as he watched the dog. He crouched down, resting elbows on knees, and extended a hand. Kreed whined and, slinking into the submissive posture he regularly adopted, crawled over. When he reached the outstretched hand he licked the fingertips. Jacob laid one hand on Kreed’s head and with the other stroked his neck. The dog wagged his tail and pressed into Jacob’s knees, the sheer mass forcing the vet to sit on the ground. He then fell into the available lap as if he were Minnie’s size.
Taylor watched Jacob stroke the dog, lost to another time and obviously enjoying the reprieve from reality. When
Kreed was full grown he would be handsome in an intimidating sort of way. He’d possess great power and cunning, the sort of dog that chased down criminals. But for the moment he was only a clumsy instrument of grace, performing search and rescue for one man’s heart.
“I thought of you when I met
Kreed. He used to be tied to a tree, like Duchess. We’re looking for a home for him. Not that you would want him, you’re moving and busy. I just wanted you to meet him.”
After several moments Jacob spoke.“Why did you name him creed?”
“A creed is a system of beliefs or principles, like a religion or something. You probably know that already.”
Taylor fiddled with the strings on her hooded sweatshirt. Seeing Jacob with
Kreed made her want to cry and she couldn’t say who she felt most sorry for—Jacob, the dog, or herself.
“Liz told me most of the animals at the shelter are there because of lack of commitment or inconvenience. I think a good creed is commit
ting for the long haul, even when something’s inconvenient. I never really
thought about that until I met this dog.” Her eyes stung with tears.
Jacob rose from his cross-legged position on the ground and
Kreedfollowed him to the car where Taylor leaned against the door. He wiped a tear trickling down her face and placed a hand behind her neck. Pulling her forward he pressed the side of her face into his, beard stubble burning her cheek, and buried a kiss near the curve of her jaw. He whispered into her hair, his breath sending shivers down her spine, “I like yo
u
that wa
y
, Taylor. That’s the problem.”
Taylor felt breathless when Jacob released her, uncertain what to say or do next. He didn’t speak for a moment, but stared with sad eyes at the dog sitting beside him.
Kreed looked up, his amber gaze pleading.