Wrong Dog

We set off at 7am to get back in time.
It was Mam’s wedding day. Family, celebration, the whole thing.
But that wasn’t why we left early.
Now I had a plan.
Get home, do the hellos, then straight back out — Barnsley. Last of a litter of Jack Russell pups.
His balls hadn’t dropped and the owner wanted him gone. Didn’t bother me. I’d been looking for a dog and hadn’t found one yet.
Small.
Familiar.
White.
Boy.
Jack Russell.
That’s what I grew up with.
We dropped the bags and set off again just after 9.
Wedding at 11.
Two hours. Tight, but doable.
We parked at 9:45 and I called.
“Oh… wasn’t that you? I thought it was you. He’s gone, sorry.”
Pissed doesn’t cover it.
I’d just bombed across South Yorkshire and the bloke hadn’t even bothered to check.
Twelve words and the whole thing collapsed.
We drove back.
By the time we got near home it was about 10:30. We passed the farm I grew up on and saw a sign — kennels.
“Let’s just have a look.”
We turned in.
They walked us round. Seven-day kennels. If a dog isn’t rehomed by day seven, that’s it. No space, no funding.
Day two — an old Jack Russell. Thirteen maybe. A boy.
That lifted me a bit.
We looked through the mesh, but the process took 45 minutes. No time. We said we’d come back.
We left.
Not what I’d planned, but something.
We went to the wedding.
That afternoon we went back. Ready this time.
The girl there asked us to look at another dog first.
“Just have a look at her,” she said.
Young bitch. Eighteen months, maybe. Black and tan, white chest. Collie cross something — Rottie, maybe Staffie. They weren’t sure.
“Found her stray. She’s been beaten. Injury to the lower spine, but she’s alright now.
Beautiful temperament… but she’s in the Sunday kennel.”
That meant she was out of time.
“Fred’s had a few views,” she said. “He’s got five days left.”
I felt pushed. Bit guilty.
Said yes.
We went in.
She was in the corner.
Quiet. Watching.
Not scared. Just… waiting.
I put my hand to the mesh.
She came over. Sat in front of me.
Didn’t break eye contact.
Then slowly, her paw landed on my hand.
Light. Careful.
Wrong dog.
Wrong breed.
Wrong size.
Wrong sex.
Wrong everything.
My dog.
She jumped in the car.
Our lives changed that day.