Page 6 of The Christmas Keepsake
Hollis had told Matt all this information many times. So had Pop. “The barn.”
Matt chuckled. “That barn has been sitting empty for years. Turning it into some location for events is a pipe dream of Pop’s. You really think folks want to have their weddings in a barn when they can recite their vows in Eleanor and Charlie’s garden?”
“Yeah, I do.” Hollis was also hoping to take in more rescue dogs. The farm was the perfect location. He didn’t want to argue with Matt right now though. Matt was a great person, and Hollis owed the man beside him a lot. But the way Matt’s voice changed when he talked about Hollis and Pop’s “plan” felt dismissive. Was Hollis imagining that?
Pop had acres of land in addition to the tree farm, and he’d been open about his desire to see it used for something good. For years, Hollis had been saving every spare cent he made working on Matt’s construction crew. In his mind, he’d created plans for a place that was more than just a tree farm. He imagined it also being an event location. A dog rescue. He’d even considered opening a little general store with food and gifts. And hayrides pulled by Pop’s old unused tractors. There was so much potential, and Pop had always loved hearing Hollis’s ideas.“As long as we keep it in the family,”Pop always said. Then he’d make sure Hollis was looking at him before he’d clarify,“You are part of this family, Hollis.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Hollis called over his shoulder as he headed toward the driver-side door of his decade-old Chevy Tahoe. Duke barked as he chased after him.Don’t forget me, is what Hollis imagined his dog saying. “You know I wouldn’t leave you, buddy. Where I go, you go.” And that was because Duke was a well-mannered and trained therapy dog. Hollis had taught him himself.
Hollis opened his truck door and let Duke hop in first. Then Hollis slid behind the steering wheel and pulled the door shut.
Duke let out an excited woof as Hollis cranked the engine and the radio came on. Then, reaching into the middle compartment, Hollis grabbed a treat and tossed it on the passenger seat at Duke’s paws. “You get a bone, and I get a jerky stick.”
They had a routine, and for the most part, he enjoyed life. Some might say “Why mess with a good thing?” Hollis had everything he needed. Why leave Popadine Construction? Especially now thatPop was at Memory Oaks? Maybe Matt was right, and transforming the barn into anything remotely attractive to the public was a pipe dream. Hollis loved the trees as much as Pop though. He could see himself filling Pop’s shoes, or trying his best, and adding on to what Pop had already built. Maybe Matt didn’t want his father’s dream, but Hollis did.
Pushing his frustration aside, he drove home and took a quick shower. Then he applied a clean bandage to the injury on his leg and put on a fresh change of clothing and prepared to go to Memory Oaks. The residents ate an early dinner, and the hours of five to eight were for visiting and recreation. As Hollis headed out the door, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He recognized the number for the local animal shelter. Tapping his screen, he placed his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Hollis,” Amanda Jasper, the animal shelter’s manager, said. Her tone of voice already had him bracing himself. “I have bad news. I wanted to tell you first.”
His stomach clenched. “What’s going on?”
“The dog that injured you yesterday…?”
“Whoa. No, he didn’t hurt me. I fell on my own,” Hollis argued, worried about where this conversation was going. Some part of him already knew what Amanda was going to tell him.
“He growled and lunged at you, Hollis. Those are aggressions. We don’t keep dogs like that here. We’re going to send him to Chesterbrook, and I just thought you should know.”
Chesterbrook was a rescue in a town about sixty miles away. Hollis had gotten Duke from Chesterbrook, and at the time, Duke had been all bones and scared of everything. Hollis wasn’t sure what took place at that rescue, but he was sure he never wanted to see another dog go there again.
“No! No, you can’t do that!” Hollis leaned against the porch railing, clutching his phone in one hand and clenching a fist with the other.
“It’s our policy. I’m sorry.”
“He only lunged at me because I put a demand on him before he was ready. Because he was scared. Not because he’s an aggressive dog.”
“You know we can’t take that risk, Hollis. This rescue is barely holding ground. We can’t afford one misstep. Sending an aggressive dog home with one of our foster families and risking having someone get hurt would be bad for our rescue.”
“Fine. Then I’ll take him,” Hollis said, without thinking.
There was a silence on the other end of the line. Hollis could almost hear the thoughts moving through Amanda’s head. “You can’t save every dog, Hollis,” she said gently.
That truth stung even though he’d learned it long ago. This was a truth that every rescuer had to accept. Otherwise, they became the hoarders who tried to do good by animals but ended up being unable to provide for them. Animals needed food and fresh water. They needed bathing and exercise. The more dogs a person took in, the more workload. For some, it became a full-time job. One that didn’t pay. “No, I can’t save every dog, but I can save this one. Please.” Helping this dog felt personal somehow, and it didn’t take a psych degree to know why. For his entire childhood, he had felt like that “bad dog” that no one wanted, and Matt and Sandy had taken a chance on him. If they hadn’t, Hollis might be locked up somewhere by now. That’s the path he was on when he was a broken, angry, scared teenage boy.
“Are you even allowed to have a second dog at the place you rent?” Amanda asked.
“Actually, I moved in with Pop last spring when he started having memory concerns.” Now Pop was at Memory Oaks, and Hollis was still living at his house with Pop’s blessing. Pop said Hollis staying would be doing him a favor and keeping kids from breaking in and looting, which was funny because Hollis had been one of those kids at one time.
“Wow. Rent-free life,” Amanda said. “Maybe you can afford to take more dogs,” she teased.
“At least one more dog. So? Can I come get him?”
Amanda sighed into the receiver. “You’ll have to sign a waiver releasing us of any liability if he attacks.”
Hollis didn’t believe for a moment that the dog he’d met yesterday would harm him. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Amanda let out a resigned laugh. “I don’t know whether to call you stupid or a saint.”
“I’ve been called worse,” Hollis joked. “By you, if I recall,” he told the shelter manager.
