The Truth About Hope. Kate James

down the driveway, she was thankful for the first time that her father had bought her the little Audi. She hardly slowed at the foot of the drive and screeched out onto the road, cutting off another vehicle. A long, loud horn blast followed.

      Glancing at the slip of paper on which Priscilla had written the address of the shelter, Hope set her navigation system through voice command. It wasn’t that far, but rush-hour traffic was bound to slow her down.

      Please don’t let me be too late. Please don’t let me be too late, she chanted. She would’ve shot through the changing lights if not for the person ahead of her, who stopped his vehicle when the light turned amber. She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “Come on. Come on.” When the lights changed, she waited for oncoming traffic to clear and roared past the vehicle in front of her. An approaching van had to swerve to avoid colliding with her. Another horn blared just as she was pulling back into her own lane. Cutting it that close had scared her. She’d be no good to Einstein if she got in an accident while trying to get to him. She slowed her speed and prayed she’d get there in time.

      When Hope finally reached the animal facility she was shaking uncontrollably. She leaped out of her vehicle and ran in through the front door. Not seeing anyone at the counter, she rushed around it and into the back, where she could hear animal noises. A tall, slender man was bent over a bag of kibble, measuring food into metal dishes. She called out to him and he straightened, surprise evident on his face. “You’re not allowed back here.”

      Hope skidded to a stop, her eyes desperately searching the small, rusty cages around them, looking for Einstein. Not seeing him, she feared the worst. She grasped the man’s arms. “I’m sorry, but you have to help me,” she pleaded with dry, heaving sobs. “My dog was brought in here earlier today, to be put down. It’s a huge mistake. He’s not dangerous. He’s as gentle as they come. It was my father. He never liked him and I need to get him. My dog, I mean—not my father.”

      “Whoa. Slow down, will you. I didn’t catch all of that, but we don’t have anyone here today who can euthanize animals.”

      The relief that coursed through Hope was instantaneous. “Okay. Okay. So please show me where Einstein is, so I can take him home.”

      “Einstein? The large black-and-white dog, looks mostly like a Lab?”

      “Yes!” Hope almost cried with relief. “Please take me to him.”

      “I’m afraid I can’t.”

      “What do you mean you can’t?” She cried. “You have to.”

      “No. No. I would if I could. I can’t. He’s not here.”

      “Where is he?”

      “I was just coming on shift when that dude dropped him off. He claimed the dog was vicious and unpredictable. Said the dog had tried to attack him.”

      “That is such a lie! Einstein wouldn’t hurt a mouse. Where is he?”

      “Nancy, the other staffer who was here, took him. I have to admit, he didn’t seem mean to either of us. He was more terrified than anything, if you ask me. Well, since we don’t have anyone here to euthanize animals, as I told you, and we’re at capacity right now, Nancy arranged for the city’s animal control department to pick him up.”

      “No!” Hope shouted. “He’s not dangerous. Where did they take him?”

      The man provided the address and directions.

      “Phone them.” She pointed a finger at him as she sprinted to the front door. “Please call them and tell them not to do anything to Einstein. I’m on my way to get him.” She swung around just before she exited. Her voice turned hard and cold. “Tell them if they so much as harm a hair on him, I’m...I’m going to sue them for every penny they have.” That would be no consolation if she lost Einstein, and she realized she sounded very much like her father, but she didn’t know what else to say.

      Her stomach was churning with nausea as she raced to get to the animal control facility. She didn’t bother to park in the lot, just left her car in front of the building. She dashed up the steps to the door and pushed. It didn’t budge. She tried again; it was definitely locked. That was when she noticed the sign. Fridays they closed at four. It was now approaching five. She rattled the door again and screamed in frustration.

      Looking around, she saw a couple of cars parked behind the building. That meant there had to be people inside. She ran toward the back; peering through a window, she could see two people moving around. Hope banged on the glass with her fist, but they didn’t seem to hear her. She continued around the side of the building, until she got to a large fenced yard. Inside the enclosure, there was a back door. Without hesitation, she climbed the chain-link fence, dropped down on the other side and ran to the door.

      This time her pounding got the occupants’ attention. The two women looked at the door, then at each other. The taller woman approached Hope. “We’re closed,” she yelled through the glass.

      “I know, but it’s urgent!” Hope shouted back. “Please open up.”

      “Come back tomorrow,” the woman advised.

      “No!” Hope pummeled the door again with both fists. “Please don’t walk away. Please. You have my dog and there’s been a terrible mistake.” Tears were brimming in her eyes, blurring her vision.

      The woman paused. “Which dog?”

      Hope described Einstein. “You have to let me take him home,” she finished, sobbing. “He’s all I have. He’s everything to me.”

      The woman glanced back at her companion, exchanged some words with her, and then Hope heard the lock disengage and the door opened. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Please tell me he’s all right.”

      The other woman joined them where they were standing. “He’s fine,” she assured Hope. “He was next on our list, but we couldn’t believe he’d hurt anyone. He’s such a sweet boy. We were just discussing what we should do. He’s scared, but he’s fine.”

      Hope threw her arms around the woman, tears coursing down her face. “Oh, thank you.” She hugged the other woman, too. “Please take me to him.”

      Einstein might have been big, but when he was released from his cage, he crawled into Hope’s lap, licking every inch of her face and neck. She hugged him tight and buried her face in his fur. “You’re okay, pal. You’re okay,” she murmured, attempting to soothe him as much as herself.

      When she finally stood up, Einstein plastered himself to the side of her leg like Velcro.

      “We’re glad you got here in time.” One of the women trailed a hand along Einstein’s back. “We fell for the big guy.”

      “Believe me, we don’t want to euthanize any animal,” the other woman added. “But look at this place. We’re out of room, as you can see, and we have more and more animals coming in. When they’re hurt or sick, we can’t tend them properly. The city just doesn’t provide enough funding for veterinary services for all the strays and injureds we get.”

      “We wish there was more we could do,” the taller woman interjected as they walked through the kennel area to the front office. “But we just don’t have the resources or the facilities.”

      Hope’s heart broke as she looked around at the sad-eyed cats and dogs, resigned because they’d been there too long, and the eager new arrivals, trying to catch her attention, begging her to free them from their small, dank cages.

      “I can’t thank you enough,” Hope said as she signed the paperwork to claim Einstein.

      “We’re happy to have you two reunited!” one of the women told her.

      “Take care of each other.” The other woman waved goodbye.

      Outside, Hope took Einstein for a walk, letting him stretch his legs and