This work was published in The Avenue Journal, Issue X: Dogs
Raise The Woof
by Sherri Cook Woosley
8:25 A.M. Adoption Day.
Inside the reception area of the yoga studio, Lola double-checked the folder for dog applications. Most people filled out the contract online now, a reminder of how long Lola had been doing this. Technology changed, but the need never did.
High-pitched barking broke out as roly-poly puppies crawled over each other while exploring their new enclosure: plastic panels in a rectangle approximately four feet high. One litter was some type of pittie mix; they had the distinctive block heads and eyes that promised love. The other litter looked like beagle mixes with velvet soft ears and noses attuned to the scent of anything that resembled food. To Lola, they were all adorable, and she wanted them to find the right homes for their specific breeds. In fact, “needed” was more appropriate than “wanted.” She ran a small rescue; fifteen puppies was too many. Too many to take care of by herself. Too expensive to feed as they grew. Too much energy to exercise them all. Too time-consuming to match one-by-one. Otherwise, Lola would never have agreed to “Raise the Woof” – this yoga event where the puppies would, ideally, frolic during the class and the students would have a chance to interact, fall in love, and adopt a puppy as they left.
Behind a folding table, Rosie wore a persimmon-colored tracksuit and bright pink lipstick. “Let’s set the mood.” She adjusted a portable speaker; upbeat ‘80s music blasted through the space.
“Turn it down.” Lola pointed to her ear. “Dogs hear better than we do.”
Although Lola and Rosie were about the same age, Lola didn’t care when her hair turned a wiry gray, but Rosie kept hers colored black. Lola couldn’t be bothered with lotions and potions, but Rosie’s wrinkles were religiously moisturized, and Lola could eat the same vegetarian meal for days in a row while Rosie adored fad diets – the more complicated the better.
Rosie turned the volume down but began singing that song about turning right round, like a record. She swirled her hands like she was in a Jane Fonda class.
A puppy in an orange collar – Lola called him Hanky – stood on his hind legs to stare at Rosie better and lifted his little snout like he was going to howl along.
Then the bell over the front door chimed as a woman and her daughter came in.
“Good morning,” Rosie said, smoothing her hair. “I’m the adoption coordinator.”
“You’re a first-time volunteer,” Lola muttered.
Waving Lola away, Rosie continued speaking to the woman, “Today, I am coordinating. Have you filled out an application?”
Pointing to Hanky, the little girl ran to the pen. “That’s him, Mom!”
While Rosie reviewed the contract, Lola drifted toward the girl. “Beagles need a lot of exercise.”
“We already bought him a rope toy and some squeakies.” The little girl pet Hanky. “He’s so cute.”
“He is,” Lola agreed.
“You’re pre-approved,” Rosie said, “so sign here and you can take your new puppy home.”
“Return policy,” Lola whispered.
Rosie, smile unwavering, said, “Please remember that you are contractually agreeing to return the dog to us if there is any problem.”
The woman murmured assent; Lola scooped up Hanky and placed him in the girl’s arms. When the girl buried her nose in Hanky’s fur and then looked up with an expression of wonder, Lola felt her breath catch. This was the moment that made the work worthwhile.
“Ha,” Rosie said as the door shut behind the mother, arm around her daughter who had her arms full of puppy. “Selling that puppy was not hard at all.”
“You’re not selling.” Lola leaned on the table across from her friend. “You’re matchmaking.”
“I thought the goal was to get rid of fifteen puppies?”
“The goal is setting up a relationship with the best chance for a lifetime commitment. Matchmaking.” Lola looked at her empty ring finger. “Pittie mixes are incredibly affectionate to the point that they will follow their humans into the bathroom. They also need a match that is willing to train them because they are physically strong and can be impetuous. Meanwhile, these beagle pups are tri-colored snugglers who also love but they will howl and bark. Potential families need to know that. As the matchmaker, you need to balance the information and the excitement. If you give too many downsides, the excitement fizzles. If you join in their excitement but don’t give the facts, we get the puppies back in three months and everyone is traumatized.”
“Be grateful for my help instead of lecturing me. I’m a lot better with people than you are.”
A song by Madonna filled the air, and Rosie danced around the room, ending up at the chalkboard where the instructor had advertised ‘Raise the Woof’ with date and details. Rosie made a fist and wiped a corner clean. In large strokes, she wrote the number fifteen.
“I am grateful,” Lola conceded. “But I also know the real reason you’re here today.”
Rosie opened her mouth to defend herself, but the door chimed and the women turned their attention to the adopters.
Over the next twenty minutes, the approved contracts disappeared while Rosie handled the table and Lola helped with the puppies.
“Whoo! I’m a natural at this.” Rosie counted the pups and then changed the number to eight. “Will you woman my table while I freshen up?” Rosie took her purse and headed around the corner to the restroom.
“This is the hard part,” Lola called. “Matchmaking between yoga students and the remaining puppies.”
9:03 A.M.
The bell chimed, and Eduardo, Rosie’s grandson, walked in next to an attractive woman carrying a yoga mat. The woman was twenty-something, Lola guessed, with blond hair pulled into a loose bun and wearing a tight shirt with ‘namaste’ written across the front and stretchy pants that flared at the bottom. Flipflops revealed painted toenails and a silver toe ring that glinted in the light of the reception room.
“Oh,” the woman said, leaning over the pen to pet a beagle pup. “This is going to be such a fun class to teach. I can’t wait.” She moved to the other pen and scratched a pittie pup behind the ears. “Aren’t you sweet?” she cooed.
“This is Serena,” Eduardo said. “She’s the studio owner.”
Lola held out her hand. “Thank you for hosting the event.”
“It’s good karma,” Serena said, shaking Lola’s hand. Then she winked. “And I love animals. They’re so pure, you know? Haven’t been corrupted by societal constructs.”
“Uh.” Lola swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Do you mind?” Without waiting, Serena tapped the speaker off. “I have a playlist for class.” Pivoting, Serena sniffed the air. “And I’ll put out the lavender oil too. Gotta create the vibe, you know? And right now the smell is…overwhelming.”
“Sorry,” Lola said. “We got a little busy.”
“Perfectly natural.” Serena gave a cheerful wave and disappeared down the hallway calling, “I have to set up the studio.”
Eduardo watched with a goofy grin until Serena was gone. Then he pinned Lola with a serious expression. “You’re going to reserve the one in the red collar, she has a heart on her nose, right?”
“A puppy is a commitment,” Lola said, stepping over the side of the plastic enclosure with to scoop poop. “Not a prop.”
“I know,” Eduardo said. He had Rosie’s tan skin and open face but was, thankfully, less argumentative. “After you-know, Serena and I will complete the paperwork and everything.”
Rosie came out of the restroom, her face lighting up when she saw her grandson. “Eduardo!”
They hugged.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Did Mama tell you…”
“I’m helping Lola.” Rosie opened her eyes wide. “She’s my BFF, as you children say. And it’s such a good cause.” She made a show of tapping the 8 on the chalkboard. “These puppies need a forever home.”
Eduardo narrowed his eyes. “There’s no other reason that you’re here? Today?”
Rosie lifted her hands into the air. “I’m ‘raising the woof.’”
Yoga students began arriving singly and in small groups; most stopped to take pictures of the puppies.
“Wait.” Frowning, Rosie said, “Who turned off my music?”
Lola avoided the question by picking up puppies for students to pet.
“And what is that horrible perfume?” Rosie waved her hand in front of her nose. No one else seemed to mind the lavender oil, but Lola wasn’t going to say that to her friend.
Eduardo moved among the students, greeting some by name and urging them to: “Make sure to tag the event when you post.”
“Friends, it is time to gather.” Serena’s voice came over the studio’s speaker, the tone low and soothing. “We will invite the universe to share its wisdom with us. We will open our minds to the unseen. We will enhance our mind-spirit-body connection.”
Eduardo gestured the other students to go ahead of him to the studio.
“And,” Serena’s voice continued, “we will have playful little puppies join us.”
“Is that the instructor? What an interesting voice she has.” Rosie tilted her head. “Is she the one who turned off my music?”
“I suppose you’ll meet her after class.” With one more suspicious glance at his grandmother, Eduardo disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as he was gone, Rosie sidled up to Lola. “Did you see her? Serena?”
“I did,” Lola said. “But I don’t think you fooled Eduardo. He knows you’re here to spy on his wedding proposal.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Rosie’s lip curled. “I’m here to stop the proposal.”
9:35 A.M.
“Time to take the puppies in.” Lola put her hand on two panels of the enclosure and separated them. “Make sure there are no stragglers.”
Like the pied piper, Lola showed treats to the puppies and they followed her down the hallway while Rosie came behind.
Inside the dimly-lit studio, instrumental music played and the smell of lavender was stronger. Students sat on colorful mats watching Serena. The puppies waddled in, tails wagging in joy. Lola leaned against the doorways as the puppies scattered, running up to various students. Everyone who wanted to interact had a pile of kibble on their mat.
Serena laughed and clapped her hands. “Puppy pose!”
Students lowered to their forearms. The actual puppies loved this and little yips erupted around the studio.
Eduardo lifted his head and pointed frantically at the pittie puppy with the heart marking.
Lola nodded in acknowledgement.
Next to Lola, Rosie scoffed. “I don’t know what Eduardo sees in her.”
Face straight, Lola said, “I think we both know what he sees in her.”
One beagle puppy – Lola thought it was Frankie – squatted and made a puddle.
Serena grabbed the roll of paper towels. “Move into downward dog. Lift those hips!” She stood and mopped up the accident before sanitizing her hands and walking around the room to correct postures.
“Do you see that?” Rosie said, grabbing at Lola’s elbow.
“I did,” Lola said. Serena had been so calm about the puppy’s accident. Eduardo’s plan might actually work.
“No, dummy. Over there.” Rosie pointed to the other side of the studio.
Lola frowned at the insult but her shoulders relaxed when she noted little Luna with a purple collar laying on her back between a student’s legs, beagle ears falling to either side like the wings of an airplane.
“That elephant-headed man on the wall. That’s an idol.” Rosie opened her eyes wide for emphasis. “Old Testament stuff.”
Shaking her head, Lola counted the puppies. If the heart-nosed one went with Eduardo and Luna went with that student and Lila, who was displaying the pittie power to curl up into a donut on her student, were all adopted then only five more matches to go.
“I’m Catholic. So is Eduardo.” Rosie’s voice carried over the studio in the silence between songs.
Lola grabbed her friend’s shoulder and shoved her out of the studio.
9:55 A.M.
The bell rang and a soldier walked inside, in uniform with her hair tucked into the hat and a German Shepherd on the end of a leash who had to be at least 100 pounds. Black and brown coloring with the trademark slope from shoulders to hip. Probably from a breeder.
“Is this the adoption event?” the soldier asked, her voice low but chin lifted. The name on her chest read “Talbot.”
Rosie and Lola looked at each other.
“Yes,” Lola said, drawing out the word. “Are you looking for a puppy that is compatible with your dog?”
Talbot dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the shepherd’s torso and the shepherd leaned against the woman in a display of complete trust.
Lola’s heart stuttered and then beat hard against her chest in foreboding.
“This is Whiskey,” Talbot said, looking up. Her hat cast a shadow but the glint of tears caught the light. “I’ve had her since she was eleven weeks old. She failed out of training but she’s the best dog.”
“That’s great,” Lola said brightly. “But we are here to adopt dogs into homes not accept dogs from homes. My rescue is very small.” She blinked. “It’s me.”
Rosie stalked around the table and glared at Lola. “Thank you for your service,” she said to Talbot, laying a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “This can’t be easy.”
“I’ve been deployed.” The soldier continued stroking Whiskey and the dog tilted her head for better access. “It wasn’t my choice, but with our current situation –”
The soldier’s words kept coming from far away while Lola shook her head. She knew shepherds and how much time and attention they needed. Most of all, they needed a job or they became destructive.
“I’m not scared to be deployed.” The soldier’s voice hitched. “But Whiskey has taken care of me and I have to do the same for her.” Tears made twins paths down her face. “I need to know that she is safe and in a loving home.”
Lola prepared herself to say ‘no’ but couldn’t help looking at Whiskey. Shepherds bonded so strongly with their owners and this one was no different. She stared at her soldier with adoration in her amber eyes, her whole body curled toward Talbot, waiting for the soldier’s command.
“I’ll try to find her a good home,” Lola offered lamely.
“Thank you,” the soldier said. She buried her face in Whiskey’s fur once again and then stood, adjusting her cap. “I am in your debt,” she said formally.
Lola nodded, her heart breaking for the dog who was still happy, the dog who couldn’t understand English or the vagaries of humans. The dog who was about to be abandoned by an owner who wasn’t going to look back over her shoulder because she belonged to something called a ‘government’ because of something called ‘honor.’
Taking up the leash, Lola wrapped it around her waist and braced. The bell chimed, the soldier left, the dog leaped. The leash tightened again and again around Lola’s torso with each of Whiskey’s leaps. She grunted with the effort to hold the shepherd back. Whiskey’s nails scrabbled against the floor in a desperate tapping; her body strained with desire to get to the soldier.
Finally, Lola had to release the leash. Whiskey threw herself at the window and barked, her cries reverberating throughout the building. Sucking in a breath, Lola followed, lifting her shirt to examine the rope burns around her torso and shaking the pain out of her hands. Whiskey’s claws gouged the windowsill, deep rivets as if she would dig through the wall and chase the Jeep leaving the parking lot.
“That’s what I was trying to prevent,” Lola scolded the dog. “How are you going to pay to fix that?”
She picked up the end of the leash again.
“Don’t put it around your waist again, stupid! That beast will break you in half.”
Lola didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she tied the leash to the coat rack and sat on the end to weigh it down.
Whiskey whined and strained to reach the window again. She didn’t want Lola to pet her. She didn’t want anybody except the human who had come and gone in less than five minutes. Finally, Whiskey hung her head and the leash went slack. She settled into the corner under the window, curling up and burying her nose in her tail. Lola wondered if it was possible for a German shepherd to die from a broken heart.
“It was the right thing to do.” Rosie picked up the chalk to cross out the eight and replace it with nine.
10:20 A.M.
Soon, Eduardo came out of the studio with a black and white pittie in a red collar cradled in his arms. “She kept going up to Serena during class and then she came over to me.” He beamed down at the puppy like a proud papa.
Lola took the puppy—she privately called her Cupid — as Eduardo reached into his pocket and pulled out an emerald engagement ring and a square cared where he’d written, ‘You and me and puppy make three. Please, let’s start a family. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed; please don’t join another team.’
Lola bit the inside of her cheek and reminded herself she was divorced, so not an expert on romance, and “dreamed” and “team” didn’t have to rhyme, and everything could still be alright, despite the lack of rhythm in the proposal.
“Have you really thought about this?” Rosie asked, moving closer from her position at the table. “I love the idea, but wonder if you really know the girl.” With an exaggerated shrug, she said, “Maybe you have been deceived?”
“Deceived?” Eduardo’s brows drew together as he took Cupid.
“Your girlfriend… is a Satanist.” Rosie pressed her hands together and tried to look contrite. “There is a reason I was sent here today and it to prevent this unholy yoking.”
Lola glanced away to give the two some semblance of privacy in the small space. Whiskey had her snout pressed against the window and little fog clouds formed every time she exhaled.
“I knew you were here to spy on me!” Eduardo kept one hand on Cupid while he worked the ring and card onto the red collar. “You don’t even know Serena but you’re ready to judge her.”
“Because I care about you more than you can imagine. Marriage is important. The woman that you bring into our family is forever. You need to have values in common and be committed to the same things; otherwise, you’ll both be miserable. Finances, children, how you’ll handle if one of you gets hurt. Have you talked about that?” Rosie held out a hand. “You’re getting caught up in the moment because she is attractive, but you need to see the truth and realize that she is praying to foreign gods and messing around with demons. That ’sleep’ at the end of class is called astral projection and I’ve read about it.” She nodded her head emphatically. “You leave your body and then a demon gets into it.”
“You sound insane.” Eduardo clutched Cupid, engagement ring now on her collar. “Here’s the truth: I’m in love with Serena and you can either accept that or stay out of our lives!”
Whiskey, finally, sat down as her gaze swept back and forth over the situation, judging everybody.
10:30 A.M.
“Hey,” Serena appeared from the hallway, her hair loose around her shoulders. “The class is in savasana, corpse pose. I’ll have my students carry the puppies back here after I call them out of the pose.” She smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth. “It was so fun to have the puppies running around today. Most of them are napping now. Pawsitively-awesome!” She tapped her heart. “Opened the chakra to remember how to love and be loved.”
“Is that something your elephant-headed man told you?” Rosie asked.
“Grandma,” Eduardo warned.
Serena lifted her eyebrows. “Do you mean Ganesh? He’s the god of fortune.”
“See?” Rosie turned to Eduardo triumphantly. “I told you so.”
Lola rolled her eyes; Whiskey barked.
“Is there a problem?” Serena said.
“You worship foreign gods.” Rosie stepped forward and shook a finger. “My grandson is in love with you and I won’t have a devil worshipper joining my family.”
“I don’t believe in a devil; Satan is an allegory.” Serena tilted her head and looked to Eduardo. “Join your family?”
“Not if I have anything –”
Lola grabbed Rosie’s arm and pulled her toward Whiskey’s corner. “She doesn’t worship an elephant or Satan. Let it alone.”
Eduardo stepped forward and then knelt, holding Cupid up to Serena. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I took a class with you. I’m amazed by how you care about your students, and I admire the way that you make time to talk to everyone. You are the kindest woman I’ve ever met and I don’t want to ever stop spending time with you and I would be honored if you would be my wife.”
His sincerity created butterflies in Lola’s stomach and she glanced at Rosie, prepared to bodily stop her friend from ruining the moment, but Rosie was busy fighting back tears of her own.
Serena covered her mouth with her hand and took a deep breath. Then she untied the pink ribbon and let the ring fall into her palm. “You remembered that I don’t like blood diamonds.”
“I’ll do my best to remember everything. What do you say?”
“I’m so proud of him,” Rosie whispered through a shuddering breath.
“Yes.” Serena gave a helpless laugh. “You and me and Cupid make three.”
Eduardo slipped the ring onto her finger.
“Absolutely magical.” Rosie sniffled, grabbed Lola’s hand, and squeezed it. “But my phone was on the table and I didn’t get a chance to record it.”
Serena threw her arms around Eduardo’s neck before she pulled back and said, “I have to let everyone out of savasana. Get ready for some adoptions!”
“Oh.” Rosie collapsed against Lola as if emotionally exhausted. “I wonder when the wedding will be. They are going to have some beautiful children, don’t you think?”
“You old bat,” Lola said affectionately.
10:35 A.M.
Students carried the puppies out of the studio. Some put the pups back in the pens and others held them while they filled out the contracts.
Lola stayed by Whiskey. The German Shepherd had climbed to her feet when people flooded the lobby. Her body shook with anxiety.
“Don’t do it,” Lola warned Whiskey.
Rosie wrote nine, then seven, then six.
Suddenly, Whiskey barked and lunged from the front corner where she’d been standing sentry, but Lola grabbed for the coat rack and wrestled the shepherd back to the corner. The leash slid down the shaft and snagged on the wooden hooks. Lola dropped the stand end as the wooden hooks on top snapped off. She jumped on the dog, fingers digging into the coarse fur and her knee painfully hitting the floor.
“We do not eat potential adopters,” Lola ground out through clenched teeth.
Whiskey whined but allowed herself to be shoved back into the corner. Lola wrapped the leash around her waist and then bent to examine the broken pieces of coat rack.
10:39 A.M.
“Your shepherd is gorgeous.” The woman had a trendy coat over her athletic t-shirt and yoga pants.
“Yeah,” Lola said tersely. “She’s not great with strangers.”
The woman held out her hand, and Whiskey growled.
“I don’t mind that,” she assured Lola.
“You should.” Lola gave her a stern look. “Do you have shepherd experience?”
“No. But I have a lot of love to give. Is she available for adoption?”
Lola glanced at the window frame and absently rubbed her hands. It would be so nice to hand over this dog over to someone else, even on the chance that it might work.
“No,” she said, finally. “No, not to you.”
Whiskey looked up with amber eyes and seemed to laugh.
The woman moved away, offended, but Lola didn’t care.
Rosie, meanwhile, accepted a contract for the last beagle pup.
“I’ll call him Gabe,” the man said.
“Great,” Rosie said, pushing him out the door and turning the lock.
10:45 A.M.
“Three dogs left,” Rosie said. “Not bad.”
“Two,” Lola corrected. Lola let her hand fall to Whiskey’s ruff and the dog didn’t move away.
Rosie lifted her eyebrows. “You’re not keeping the beast.”
“I don’t want to. She bites, she breaks shit, and I think she peed on me.” Lola looked down into Whiskey’s amber eyes. “But I’m not going to inflict her on someone else.”
Rosie snorted. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
Sherri Cook Woosley earned an MA in English Literature from University of Maryland where she taught both Academic Writing and World Mythology classes. She’s a member of SFWA and the Baltimore Science Fiction Society’s Critique Circle.
Sherri’s short stories appear in Abyss & Apex Magazine, Pantheon Magazine, and Flash Fiction Magazine. WALKING THROUGH FIRE is her debut novel: A mother willing to do anything to protect her son becomes an unwilling warrior in a fight between the reawakened Mesopotamian gods. You can read more of her writing at www.tasteofsherri.com
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