I retorted, “I can’t just leave them here.” “They will perish.”
He gave a slow nod before vanishing into the shop. Upon his return, he gave me a plastic bag containing beef jerky and water bottles, along with an old blanket. “This is it. Take this first. Good luck, too.
Good luck. Yes, exactly. A miracle was what I needed.
I gingerly started lifting the puppies into the cab of my pickup, one by one, after laying the blanket across the passenger seat. In all, there were eight of them: two golden-brown pups, five black-and-white ones, and one tenacious little guy with patches of gray fur. As I lifted them up, their small paws shivered against my palms and each whined gently.
As I worked, I became aware of how absurd the entire situation was. I had no experience caring for dogs, much less eight boisterous puppies, and I was miles from home and hours away from my intended location. But remorse hit me hard every time I considered leaving them behind. Someone had to step up for these little lives, and it seems like I was that someone today.
I got into the driver’s seat and gazed at the dashboard when they were all calmed down—as calm as eight squirming puppies can be. What comes next? My sister would murder me if I showed up unexpectedly with a truck full of mutts, so I couldn’t exactly keep driving straight to her place.
