Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bartholo – Who?

“Sitz.” I sit.

A pause.

“Braver Hund.” That’s right, I am a good dog!

A click, then a treat given.

“Bleib!” I stay.

A click. Another pause. The clack clack of bootsteps moving away.

“Bleib!” I stay, still. A click.

Clack clack clack clack.

“Hier.” I rise and trot over, stopping at her feet.

“Braver Hund.” Yeah, I am.

Click. And right on time, my treat. Thank you very much Herrin.

A shrill sound pierces the air, nearly causing me to drop my delicious snack. That “infernal device,” as Herrin calls it, rings and she answers. “This is Alder.” With a hand command, she releases me from training, and I take my treat to my favorite spot – the middle cushion on the couch. As I crunch away on my reward, enjoying the scraping against my tongue and teeth, my Mistress’ voice carries on in the background with human affairs. I am happy in my spot, surrounded by the smell and feel of Herrin on our couch.

Uh-oh. My ears perk to Herrin’s voice; it is changing pitch. This is a sign of distress for my Mistress, though she has few tells. Her pitch is dropping, and her words are slowing. Her smell is sharpening too. Herrin is very, very serious now. She is standing at attention, and I thank Dog that I have finished my treat because Herrin needs all of my attention now. I have not yet had to protect her from the device, but I am prepared to if I must. My head is raised, my ears straining to catch any sound that might indicate danger to Herrin.

“Nicte, enough.” Oh, it’s her. Herrin banished her from our pack. She tried to make Herrin choose between us; me, or her. She got what she demanded, but not what she wanted. She is even more unhappy with Herrin now. “Don’t blame this on Bartholomew, dammit. He was only the latest in a long list of symptoms. We haven’t been good in a very long time, and we both know it.” Herrin is so close to having my name right. I wonder if she can’t pronounce Bartholomäus correctly. No matter, we both know who she means; the best dog ever. “Enough. I’m hanging up. We’re over, like I told you the last three times you asked for another chance. Goodbye, Nicte. Lose my number, we have nothing left to discuss.”

I lay my head down, resting on my hands but still at attention. Herrin will need me soon. I follow her with only my eyes and ears as she walks into the kitchen. I hear water run from the tap, then pouring into something else. Then sounds I know well, followed by the bitter, sometimes cloying smell of Herrin’s second favorite drink. It is, after all, still early in the day. Within minutes she brings her “coffee” as she calls it and sits on the cushion next to me. As usual, “You know, Bartholomew, that I shouldn’t let you on the couch.” Yes, I know. But we both know that you want me here. I guard your heart as much as I guard your person, Mistress. And, as usual, her hand drops to my shoulder. With a comforting whine and whuff, I lay my head on her leg.

“You’re a good puppy, Bartholomew.” I feel her hands sink all the way down through my fur to scratch my neck. I grumble my contentment and stretch out. “I know you’re too young to understand all of this.” I understand more than you know, Herrin, but that’s okay. “She knew from the start that I would be getting a Malinois as soon as I could. And all the training that would go into it. I don’t know why she insists on blaming you.” I don’t either, but keep scratching behind my ears, please? Oh, sorry about the yawn. I promise I’m not bored! “You’re getting sleepy, aren’t you?” Maybe a little. “You worked hard this morning, Bartholomew. You’ve earned a nap.” If you insist. Keep scratching…ooh, perfect.

“Yes, of course. We’ll be there shortly.” As I wake up with a yawn and a much-needed stretch, I hear Herrin on that device again. “See you then.” Must be time to put on our going-out fur. I jump off the couch and follow her into our inner den. Herrin puts on pigeon-colored pants and a sky-colored shirt, taking care as always to let me investigate her pants and shoes as she does. They smell as they always do, nothing to be concerned about. The pants are soft against my snout. Herrin says, “Since you’re right there, Bleib.” I stay put while she puts a hand on my back and rests some of her weight on me while she finishes dressing. “Braver Hund, Bartholomew. Thank you.” She pulls out two of my work shirts and holds them before me. I sniff at them, taking time to decide on the one that feels lighter and smoother. I will not need the heavy shirt to keep me warm today. Over my work shirt, Herrin puts my safety vest on. Once we are both fully dressed, she clips me to her belt. I already know what this means, but she gives the command anyway.

“Fuß.” I move to her side, my head just below her hip. We walk through our den and out.

Click “Braver Hund.” My tail is up, I am ready and excited for today’s adventure.

We arrive at the zoombox after a short walk, Herrin giving me time to do my business along the way.

She opens my door and “Hopp.” I jump into the back. She buckles me in with my safety vest, then takes her own seat in front. Another “braver Hund,” this time with a small treat. I am not picky; I will take any treats she wants to give me and be grateful! This one, though small, is dense and meaty. “Okay, Bartholomew. Here we go.” I am ready!

I love listening to Herrin melodically howling. She always does it when we’re in the zoombox. She calls it “singing to the radio” and, as I always do, I gaily sing along with her – no one in the pack should howl alone unless they are alerting to trouble! Herrin laughs for she too enjoys these pack bonding times. We howl together until she stops the zoombox.

“Okay, Bartholomew. We’re on duty now.” I am ready, Herrin. I sit up, waiting for her to unplug me from the zoombox. She unplugs me and hooks me to her belt again. “Hier.” I follow her out of the zoombox. The ground is hard and warm beneath my feet, and there are many sounds to listen to. I focus on Herrin as I always try to do. There is so much for me to smell here – flowers, other zoomboxes, the wind blowing so many things my way. But I stay focused, only sniffing long enough to make sure nothing threatens Herrin. I know the scents of Herrin’s extended pack, what she calls “friends” and “employees,” and they smell as they should. I scent only good – or neutral – intent here.

Herrin stops when we reach her extended pack.

“Sitz. Bleib. Braver Hund.” Click. I know that we are working so there will be no treat, but she knows what a good Bartholomäus I am. One of Herrin’s “coworkers” has their furless pup with them. No, that is not what they call her. Oh yes. “Tween.” This tween – I still prefer furless pup – and I have become playmates. When Herrin does not need me to work, this pup takes me on long walks to explore the lands around us. Sometimes we wrestle or play catch.

But not today. Today, she does her work and I remain by Herrin’s side and do mine. This is a new land, we have only been in this territory one other time. I am on high alert as I do not yet know all of the sounds and smells here.

“Fuß.” I step forward, staying at Herrin’s side.

My playmate, also walking with our pack, looks up, and talks to Herrin. “Sarah, why do you tell him to fuss?”

“It is a German command, as all of his commands are. I am not saying ‘fuss,’ though I know it sounds that way. It is pronounced ‘foos,’ like foosball.”

“What does it mean?”

“Heel. It means Bartholomew is to stay at my side and walk with me.”

Herrin is a good pack leader. The ground is softer on my feet now, we are on ground that smells of nature instead of stinky fumes. There is grass here to munch on, bugs to play with and watch, soft, soft dirt to dig in. But I am at work, so those things will wait. Our steps are much quieter now, too. We are far from the zoombox path now. I hear wind shifting, all of our steps – Herrin’s and her…oh what does she call her? best frenemy are stepping at the same time. The hairless pup outpaces us all, walking ahead and then coming back to the pack. Herrin is an important leader to her extended pack, but I am not concerned with hooman affairs. These hoomans are all Herrin’s most trusted members, especially the one she pretends not to like. My focus stays on Herrin, on the smells all around us, and on the sounds. There are tweet-tweets out here, and hoppies of all sizes. They stay hidden but I can hear them; scratching at their wooden doors, burrowing into the ground, hopping through the brush. I hope we are not out when the light starts to fade because the scratchy-scratchies come out. They don’t bother me as much as when I was a little pup, but they get so loud sometimes they sound like they’re right inside my ear flaps.

Herrin stops, and I know to sit next to her. I can tell by her scent and how loosely she stands that she is pleased. Ahead, the hairless pup is off exploring. She keeps looking back – I think she wants to take me with her, but she knows I am working right now. Herrin and her extended pack talk while I sit, watching and listening all around us to be sure we are safe. Herrin laughs, pleased with what her pack is reporting to her. I relax, knowing this is one of Herrin’s best noises.

Soon, “Fuß.” We are off again, headed back to the zoombox. “Hopp,” I get in and take my spot while she plugs me in again. Safety always! as Herrin says. No melodic howling this time, though. Instead, Herrin has a “business call” while we drive.

She ends the call and…wait, is she...? Ohboyohboyohboy I must have really been the goodest dog ever today! I stay in my sit, but I cannot help the happy, excited whines and yips I make. I know what a “drive-thru” is! It’s yummy, is what! Herrin orders a big burger for herself and a Bartholomäus sized burger for me (no onions, of course). It is hard, but I know I must stay on my bestest behavior and be patient. The smell of meat surrounds me, with Herrin’s window rolled down to let in the delicious odors. There are vegetables too, and other things I don’t know the name of, but they smell sooo gooood! I must stay in my sit! I do, but I cannot help but tippy tap my toes a little bit. It’s ready! The food hooman hands Herrin our order, and the smell overwhelms me with happiness. I hear the bag rustle as Herrin sets it beside her; I know we will eat in our den, where we are always safest.

We are home now! We have come inside, and as I always do, I have thoroughly checked the whole den. It smells as it should, there are no intruders. No predators lying in wait. Only delicious, delicious burgers waiting for us now! Herrin has her plate, and I have my bowl. She leads us to the table, where she sets them down. “Sitz.” Yes, Herrin. Once I am sitting in my place beside the table, she sets down my bowl. “Ok.” Herrin sits, and we both tear into our burgers. I know what comes after dinner – we will sit together on our couch. Herrin will say she shouldn’t let me, and then she will scritch my shoulders again. We will fall asleep to the talking pictures she likes, then when she wakes up later, we will go to our bed and sleep.

It is a good day.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

“Hey Abi! How’re you?” Tally Craven greeted Abigail Bellweather, one of her two best friends. Raelle Collar, the third of their little trio, sat beside Abigail in the booth. Tally slid in across from her friends, thanking the server who had shown her to the table. “Hi Rae!”

“Hey Tal!” “Hey Girl!” the two greeted at the same time.

“Where’s the kiddo, Abs, with Adil?” Tally asked, knowing that Abigail had fewer free evenings now with her daughter’s busy schedule.

“No, she spent the day with Mom. They were checking out a new location, and you know how much she loves to run around. Mom offered to take her and let her run off some energy. Plus she loves getting to play with that dog, so she’ll leave us alone for a few days about getting one now. I hope.”

Tally and Raelle laughed at that, knowing it was indeed wishful thinking.

“How about you, Tal?”

“Oh, I’m good. Glad to finally see you two! It’s been too long.”

“Tal, Scyl and I just had a pool party last weekend. And you were there.” Raelle reminded her.

“It’s not the same, though, having to share you two with everybody.”

“No, it’s not. I missed this too,” Raelle easily conceded as Abigail nodded her own agreement.

The three joined their hands at the center of the tabletop, reaffirming their bond. Now, in or near their mid-30s, these women had become as close as sisters years ago in college and studiously maintained their sisterhood. Tally and Raelle were both Goddessmothers to Abigail’s and Adil’s daughter, and Abigail and Tally were Goddessmothers to Raelle and Scylla’s boa constrictor. It was understood that whether Tally eventually had human children or some other form of dependent, be it furry, feathered, or scaled, that Raelle and Abigail would be the Goddessmothers.

“How’s the shelter? Still doing okay, do you need anything?” Raelle asked sincerely.

“You know how it is, Rae. We could always use volunteers and supplies. But at the moment we’re pretty well stocked. And the last adoption drive was a huge success, so we’re at our least crowded we’ve been in a while right now.”

“Tally, that’s great news!” Abigail offered her enthusiastic support; not only in her words at this moment, but in an ongoing and significant monetary donation each month to Tally’s no-kill animal shelter.

“Yeah, Tal! That’s wonderful to hear. Orry is doing so well, and Scylla just loves her. I can’t believe someone abandoned such a beautiful boa!”

Abigail shook her head. “I get the boa. You two having a snake makes sense. But did you have to name it Ouroboros? Really?”

“It’s a pretty clever name, actually,” Tally defended. “And I’m glad you two took her in. She’s a sweetheart.” 

Raelle nodded her head vigorously. “She really is.”

They placed their orders with the server, who arrived just as Raelle spoke, then Abigail addressed Tally again. “You know, if you need volunteers, that Adil and Jemmy are always willing to help out when they have time.”

“I do, and they’re welcome anytime. You still have that spare key, right?” Tally sat back as she spoke, giving the server room to set down their chips and salsa in the middle of the table.

“Yes, Adil has it, and I’ll remind him. I know you trust us to be there, but you know how Adil is. He’s always been so mild mannered and private, and sometimes that means he assumes everyone is private. He doesn’t really feel comfortable being there without you, unless we’re checking on things for you while you’re on vacation.”

Tally nodded; Adil was a sweet man, but mild mannered was a bit of an understatement.

“I still don’t know why you won’t let me and Scyl look after things for you,” Raelle complained as she selected the perfect chip.

“What happened last time, Raelle?” Tally prompted with a resigned sigh.

“It was just a little one!”

“A ‘little’ litter of rabbits was still seven baby rabbits I had to find homes for, on top of the two adult rabbits that you ‘forgot about’ having given them a ‘play date,’ Raelle.”

Raelle grumbled indistinctly while Abigail chuckled at the other two. “Really, Rae,” Abi admonished in her best Mom tone, “I was there when Tally told you not to put those two rabbits together, since she hadn’t been able to get them to their spay appointment yet.”

“Shut it, Ma ,” Raelle playfully pushed at Abigail’s shoulder. 

Tally laughed at her two friends, sisters honestly, and once more all was joyful between the three.

“So what about you, Tal, any prospects on the horizon?” Abigail asked as they settled back down.

“Yeah, Tal. Any cute guys? Any cute dogs? Any cute girls?”

Abigail and Tally both looked at Raelle oddly, but it was Tally who spoke. “Um, Rae? Should I be worried about the order you asked that in or anything?”

“I thought it was obvious. Least important to most important.” Raelle clearly did not understand their confusion.

Abigail nudged her (rather hard, if you asked Raelle), saying, “Only you, Blondie. Only you would do that.” She was not, however, deterred from the task at hand. “ Anyway, are there any cuties on the line, Tally?”

“Come on, you know that’s not a fair question. I genuinely love every animal we bring in, even after they leave us. Most of their people keep us updated, and that’s how I like it.”

“Yes, and more than a few of those people have asked you out or given you their number. So?” Abigail pressed while Raelle contented herself with eating.

“ So I am very content right now. I don’t need to seek out someone to make me happy. Okay? Maybe it’ll happen someday, maybe it won’t, but I’m good.”

“Okay, okay,” Raelle acquiesced for both herself and Abigail. “We’ll lay off, as long as you’re good. Besides, anyone who wants to get close to you has to pass the shelter test and then the unit unity test.”

“Goddess, I’ll never get laid if that’s the case.” With an exaggerated groan, Tally dramatically plopped her forehead down on the table - taking care to avoid the chips, of course.

“Who’s talking about getting laid, Tal? If that’s all you want,” Abigail abruptly slapped her hand over Raelle’s mouth, knowing whatever was going to come out next wouldn’t be appropriate for a family restaurant.

“What she means,” Abigail continued, glaring at Raelle and then turning to look at Tally, “is that we’re not your chastity chaperones. We’re just interested in screening anyone who’s serious about getting close to you.”

Silenced by her sister’s hand, Raelle first glared back at her and then pointed to her and nodded her agreement. “Mmpph,” which Tally rightly translated to mean, “That.”

Tally chuckled at her sisters’ antics; one thing the three of them could always count on the others for was providing amusement. “I know you are. I appreciate it, usually. As long as you don’t go overboard.”

Raelle, still silenced by Abigail, placed one hand against her chest dramatically while Abigail added, “Moi? Never!”

Their server approached, tray in hand and chuckling at her favorite guests. “Alright, ladies, dinner is prepared.” She set the dishes down, chatted for a few minutes, and left them to their meal.

Later, as they lingered over coffee and shared desserts, the women discussed weekend plans. Tally, of course, would be busy at work, since weekends tended to have high traffic at the shelter. Abigail conceded that she would most likely bring her daughter by and let her play with and walk some of the animals there. Scylla and Rae would spend the weekend visiting Rae’s dad back home.

Saturday and Sunday were indeed quite busy for Tally at her shelter, and productively so. Not only did she find prospective homes for the litter of puppies that had been found abandoned and brought to her, but several of the senior animals also found homes.

As Monday and Tuesday tended to be the shelter’s slowest days, Tally took those as her days off. On those days, her childhood friend Glory ran it in her stead. Tally spent much of her downtime watching and reading animal training materials. Though she chose to use it in running a shelter for domestic animals, by education and specialty she was a Certified Animal Behaviorist and dedicated to maintaining the most up to date knowledge possible in her field. She also, time permitting, spent time volunteering at the nearest National Park; she was so well known and liked there that on occasion she was hired as a consultant.

But her first love, her primary focus, remained domestic animals and their humans. Tally took great pleasure and pride in her ability to match the right family to the right adoptee. Though nothing is foolproof, her record was quite solid. Very few matches made by Tally resulted in a failed adoption or animals returned to the shelter. And if she believed an animal had been separated from their humans involuntarily, she would spare no expense to reunite them, footing the bill privately when necessary.

So began her greatest adventure, when she arrived on Wednesday morning to open the shelter. On the front stoop, sitting at rigid attention, was a rather large dog. He wore no collar, had no lead, no food or water bowls, and no belongings. Clearly, he had been led to the door, commanded to sit and stay, and then abandoned. Tally quietly raged at the blatant cruelty on display. No dog would sit alone, unattended, in a strange place, without being restrained unless they had been exceptionally well trained. So why would someone train a dog so well, only to abandon them?

Tally took in a deep breath, setting aside her fury for handling at another time. She advanced very slowly and carefully, speaking in a quiet and steady voice the whole time.

“Hello, there. I’m Tally, but you can call me whatever makes you comfortable.” Tally watched her new charge closely, stopping immediately as soon as she noticed the twitch of a side muscle; her only indication that the dog was uncomfortable with her proximity. Without coming any closer, she knelt to be closer to the dog’s height. Tally maintained her crouch, and very slowly stretched one hand out before her. She carefully did not move her hand more than a couple of inches in front of herself, just enough to slightly breach the distance and help to waft her scent towards the cautiously attentive animal.

As she patiently watched and waited, the twitch of muscle settled down and the dog relaxed somewhat. Surely, she knew, this poor animal must be not only scared but exhausted. And yet, still, they retained their perfect posture and behavior. Tally continued to speak in low tones; with praise of their behavior, repetition of what a good dog they were, how beautiful they were; she worked hard to calm the animal further. Tally kept her own posture small, tucked in, and as non threatening as possible. Her head tilted, hair hanging down over her shoulder, and she gradually extended her arm further, carefully watching for signs of distress as her hand came closer to the dog’s space. 

When her arm was nearly fully extended, the animal once again twitched and made to shuffle their feet. Tally apologized. “Okay, that was your limit. Got it, friend.” As she spoke, she withdrew her hand once more, this time loosely resting in front of herself. “So, here’s the thing, friend. I need to get inside that door. And you need to feel safe. Which means we need to figure out how to get me past you, without you becoming protective or aggressive, okay? So what I’m going to do now, is, I am going to take off my backpack and open it. I have some treats with me.”

Because she was watching so closely, Tally noticed the animal’s eyes brighten as they cocked their head slightly, ears moving up and forward to be even more alert. 

“Oh, you know treats, don’t you, friend?” 

Their head tilted the other way, just a little. 

“Good, that’s good.” She slowly slipped her pack down her arms, set it beside her on the ground, and unzipped it. “It’s okay. I’m just getting to the treats, friend. It’s okay.” Once the pack was open, she reached in and pulled out a thick stick of the homemade jerky she always kept with her. It had come in handy on more than one animal rescue, not to mention being a good snack for herself when she was out and about.

The dog watched her closely, bright eyes flitting quickly from her face to where her hand disappeared into the pack. The moment Tally unzipped it and held it open, the dog’s head lifted slightly as they scented the air, clearly catching the smell of the jerky. Tally watched as they couldn’t resist tasting the air, feet shifting as a long, spotted tongue came out and licked black lips.

“I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” With the jerky in hand, Tally was able to crouch walk a couple steps closer before the dog showed any signs of distress. “Okay, okay. I got it. We’re good, friend.” She stopped once more, jerky held fully out between them. “But I know you’re hungry, and I know this smells good. So here’s what I’ll do, okay? I’m gonna toss it to you, then I’ll take out another treat.” 

Tally did exactly that, jerky landing almost exactly at the dog’s feet. The dog looked down, licking their lips, but remained in the sit position. Tally noticed, though, that in addition to licking their lips, the dog couldn’t resist shuffling their front feet a little. They were clearly in conflict.

“Release.”

No motion.

“Up.”

Nothing.

“Free.”

A twitch, and the dog looked up at her with a fully cocked head. Good, this was progress.

Tally slowly stood, bringing her pack with her. She had established a rapport, now she needed to establish that she was someone this dog could accept commands from.

“Free.” 

A twitch of the tail, and the head tilted the other direction. As the dog continued to watch her closely, they also slowly stood and reached down for the jerky stick. A careful sniff, one foot extended out to move closer, the dog somehow managed to never take their gaze off Tally for more than a fraction of a second. Once close enough, they reached their head out quickly and snatched the treat, stepping back against the wall and holding it for a moment. After some consideration, and no reprimand or attempt at an approach by Tally, the dog quickly scarfed down the jerky.

“It’s pretty good, if I do say so myself. Would you like another?” Tally offered, now slowly walking forward with another piece in her outstretched hand. To her delight, this time the dog met her part way and delicately took the treat from her fingers before retreating once more. “Okay, friend, I’m going inside now and I need you to come with me, okay? I have more food inside.”

Tally carefully stepped fully up to the front door, unlocking and opening it while still speaking. She knew that Glory would arrive soon, and if she didn’t already have this new charge secured somewhere they might have to start the process all over again for Glory to be able to get inside the building without this new addition running off or becoming aggressive.

“Come.” Tally had the door fully open and tried to command the dog to follow her.

No movement.

“Here.”

An ear twitched, the dog seeming to consider.

“Heel.”

Back to no motion.

“Hier.”

The dog stood and approached her, though with obvious trepidation.

Okay, German commands. Noted.

“braver Hund.” Tally noted the posture of pride and confidence the dog adopted at the praise, pleased they were coming to understand each other. “Fuß.” As expected, the dog stood at attention at Tally’s side and moved in step with her when she began walking. “Braver Hund indeed, my friend,” she praised once more as she led the dog to a large, empty pen that was close to her office. 

Tally verified the condition of the room, and, once she was satisfied, they walked in together. She closed the door quietly to avoid spooking her charge, gave the command to sit, and immediately filled a large water bowl from the spigot built into the wall. Once she had set the bowl down, Tally sat herself down against one wall, legs crossed and backpack in her lap. Once more, she rifled through its contents and withdrew a treat, this time a yak chew. The dog, which she was now confident was a brindle Belgian Malinois, maintained their sit but closely watched, and sniffed at, the treat as it emerged.

“Free.” Tally watched as the dog cautiously, but with more confidence than they began this encounter, stood and stretched their neck out towards the chew. Tally held it out, her right arm fully extended and the chew resting atop her flat palm. To her relief the dog came close enough to take the chew. Instead of a rapid retreat as before, this time her new friend sat and then lay down with the chew held carefully between their front feet. If either of them stretched out, they would now be able to easily touch the other.

While the Malinois continued to work diligently on the yak chew, Tally slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and pulled up her text chain with Glory, firing off a quick note asking her to enter quietly and bring a bowl of their transitional food mix to the big animal enclosure. To her relief, Glory sent back a thumbs up and, within moments, Tally heard the front door carefully open and gently close, then the sounds of Glory moving about. 

Before her, the Malinois looked up. Ears up and forward, their haunches twitching in preparation, the Malinois looked in the direction of the noise, and then to their new two legged friend. Tally remained calm, holding her relaxed position, and watched as the Malinois took her in, looked back to the source of the new sounds and scents, and returned to their chew, leaving their ears cocked at attention. Tally was grateful for these signs of acceptance and comfort; clearly they were making progress still.

Tally also listened to the sounds as Glory moved about, hearing the sounds as she opened their refrigerator and removed their transitional mix. Tally had developed it herself with input from vets, combining rice, chicken, and other easily digested elements. As ever, Glory sang along quietly to herself as she worked. Tally smiled at the familiar sound, and easily began harmonizing with her old friend. She noticed her new friend’s ears perk up in her direction, then one swiveled slightly to take in both of the humming women. 

Interestingly, the Malinois seemed to relax at the tunes now filling the space around them. As Glory approached with the slightly warmed food, Tally switched from her humming to singing, watching for her new friend’s reaction. To her delight, they relaxed even more, leading Tally to believe that singing, or music of some sort, had been an integral part of their life up until now. Glory followed her lead with ease, singing as well while she slipped the bowl through the one-way slot at the base of the wall Tally reclined against.

As expected, the dog briefly tensed up once more and focused on the unexpected intrusion to their space. The smell of fresh, warm chicken, broth, and other goodies worked its magic, though, as they carefully rose and walked with a deliberate pace to the bowl Tally sat beside. So far, this was the closest they had been to each other. Tally observed carefully, noticing that other than the usual caution one would expect from a dog encountering a stranger in a strange space, she saw no overt signs of food aggression. That was an enormous relief. Though there would be much more temperament testing to come, including more extensive food aggression screening, the apparent lack of it right now boded well. 

In the hand that had scooted the bowl of food further inside, Tally now held the microchip scanner that Glory slid in right behind the food bowl. She hoped that with a full belly and the peace offering of several treats, she would be able to scan for a microchip; though she felt conflicted about that. What type of person would train such a beautiful, clearly intelligent dog so well, microchip them, and then just abandon them outside a closed animal shelter? Still, reuniting was her first goal and commitment wherever possible, and that’s what she would aim for. Cautiously.