The Rhythm Of Rescue

011 | Undeniably ... cute

I sighed, picking up Brutus in my hand.

"Why do you follow such a dark cloud around, hmm?" I murmured, nuzzling my nose into Brutus's soft fur, which smelled like a delicious mix of mint and vanilla. "You can't stay here, buddy. Your owner must be worried sick about you, you restless ball of energy." As I looked down at Brutus's tag, I noticed tiny inscriptions under his name - an address.

"Bingo," I exclaimed, feeding the address into Google Maps, which revealed that Brutus's home was just about six blocks away. "Come on," I said, wrapping one of my scarves around Brutus's little neck and bundling up in my own heavy clothes before heading out.

Minutes later, when we were nearly seven blocks away, Brutus suddenly slipped out of my grasp and took off, leading me towards a three-story building made entirely of rustic red brick. A brass nameplate gleamed beside the heavy oak door: "Starlight Ridge Foster Care."

Brutus whined, his little paws scratching impatiently at the wood, and I watched as the door swung open with a groan.

A blur of motion shot out, nearly knocking me off my feet – a small boy, all wild hair and untamed energy, rocketed past me. A young woman, probably around my age, appeared in the doorway, her eyes flashing with exasperation as she yelled after the boy. "Wherever you're headed in this weather, I hope you plan on staying there forever, you brat!"

She slouched against the doorframe, watching as Brutus zoomed past her and into the building with my scarf still around his neck, and I could hear the sound of children's voices and heavy footsteps echoing from inside. A tiny voice piped up, "Brutus is home! Better get your ass out of Esme's room if you don't want any trouble!"

As I stood there, feeling like an awkward outsider, the young woman - with her choppy, blonde bob and thigh-length sweater dress that seemed to be swallowing her whole - burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she told me, "The dog purposely pees on the rug in Esme's room, and those little tattletales snitch on the last person who was in Esme's room, and that poor soul has to wash the rug with their bare hands... because I," she paused, gasping for air between her fit of laughter, "I certainly... I can't... And the dog certainly can't wash the rug, can he?!" Her laughter grew louder and more uncontrollable, leaving me standing there, feeling like a total stranger, unsure whether to turn and make a hasty exit or just wait for her to finish laughing.

She finished with a humorless snort, then finally addressed me. “Sorry, sorry … who are you again?”

“I'm Casey. I brought Brutus home.”

"Right,” she dragged. “Thanks for bringing him back. Though, honestly, Brutus probably would have found his way home eventually. He's gotten into this wandering habit lately." Her voice trailed off, then picked up again with a sigh. "Listen, if he caused any trouble, I'm afraid there's not much I can do about it. They don't exactly pay me enough for the shit I put up with her-”

"No, no. He's no trouble at all. Brutus is a really smart dog, by the way. You must have put a lot of training into him."

A flicker of pride crossed her face. "Esme actually trained him. She brought him here about a year ago and wouldn't leave without him. Lucky for her, that rich couple who wanted to adopt her also wanted to renovate this place, so Mrs. Langley"—her voice softened—"let her keep him on the condition she take him with her when she left."

"A year ago?" I echoed, the pieces slowly clicking into place. "So Esme didn't take Brutus along...?" Or did the couple change their minds?

She shook her head, her smile fading completely. "Esme died."

“Oh my God … I didn't … I'm so sorry, what happe-”

"I don't... I don't really like talking about it," she choked out. “No one does.”

Before I could offer condolences, a loud shriek pierced the air inside the house as the woman yelled, "Hey! HEY! What do you think you're doing with that? Get back here with my makeup kit! Stop right there!...”

The door slammed shut behind her.

I couldn't shake off what I'd just heard about Brutus's real owner. Poor Brutus. He must miss her so much. My mind raced with questions. If only Brutus could talk, I'd bombard him with questions.

Later that evening, I found myself getting lost in a book that was bound to end in heartbreak, while my mind kept wandering off to Esme. As the words blurred together on the page, I drifted off to sleep on my couch.

A soft knock at the door jolted me awake, causing me to nearly fall off the couch as the book slipped from my fingers.

Groggily, I reached for my phone to check the time - 11:32 PM.

Who could it be at this hour?

Still half asleep and with blurry vision, I stumbled towards the door and flung it open.

There, framed by the dim hallway light, stood Theodore, guitar case slung over his shoulder. My eyes needed a serious second to adjust. I blinked rapidly.

He offered a sheepish glance, then mumbled something inaudible under his breath, studiously avoiding eye contact.

"Huh?" I prompted.

Finally, he met my gaze, a shadow of vulnerability flickering across his features. "I, uh," he stammered, "it's freezing out there. And, well..." His voice trailed off, then formed slightly. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

There was something in his eyes, a raw honesty that tugged at my core. For a fleeting moment, a glimpse of the man beneath all the gruff peeked through, and it was strangely endearing.

Then, just as quickly, his usual mask slipped back into place. He mumbled a barely audible "nevermind" before starting to turn away.

"Wait," I blurted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "You can stay here."
He froze, then slowly turned back, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

As I stepped aside to let him in, a furry brown blur shot past my legs.

Brutus of course darted through the doorway, tail wagging furiously.

"Sure, come on in.” I added with a chuckle, following Brutus inside and closing the door behind me. 

Theodore had already made himself at home, sprawled out on the couch.  Brutus curled up contentedly on the rug beside him.  I grabbed two blankets, gently draping one over Brutus' sleeping form. The other I left folded on the coffee table.

From the doorway of my room, I stole a glance back.

Theodore had snatched the spare blanket, pulling it up over his sleep-tousled head. The sight was undeniably… cute.

A blush crept up my cheeks as I beat a hasty retreat to my room, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.