Second Chances - an Aaron Goodwin Romance

Luck

"If you don't fight for the things you stand for, you don't really stand for them." - Lyndie Greenwood as Jenny (Sleepy Hollow, TV series)

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Luck. That was the one thing in my life I needed more of, among other things.

You may say I was lucky to have a life-long career, one that many would consider to be easy and enjoyable. Enjoyable, yes. Easy? Hell no. I had put my heart, soul, sweat and blood into every kennel, every bowl of food, water and every single dog that left this rescue. I, as well as my employees, have put ounces of our beings into our line of work to assure the future of our animals.

That, my friend, wasn't always as easy as everyone presumed.

Though we couldn't save everyone, we had plenty of others that we were able to watch grow into amazingly loyal companions. That all on its own was well worth the journey.

My life was a twist of fate bundled up in wrapping paper, thrown into a tiny box and shipped off adorned with a crumpled bow. Decorative packaging hide the awful disaster within - few knew the true me. Everyone else saw the bow and dog-themed wrapping paper. I liked it that way, and maintained it at all costs.

Unfortunately, I wore my past on my face; quite literally, might I add.

I tried my hardest to ignore the stares I would receive on the daily, but to tell you the truth, it did get me down a lot more than what I let on. I would tell myself that people stared because they didn't know any better - scars, especially ones that were in places that couldn't be concealed easily, were always an accidental eye-catcher.

My scars were a secret tale I seldom shared. The memories of how I received them often haunted me, but alas, I was lucky to have lived through the ordeal I had been faced with when I could have lost my life.

There was that word again - luck. It stuck like gum tangled in a four-year-old's hair. An annoying, sticky, unpleasant mess. One I simply tolerated.

I dealt with everything from the physical ailments to the internal ones, and I'll admit, some days were better than others.

Last night had been one of those times where I hadn't been so fortunate to escape the talons of my inner frets and worries. All of my emotions drew within me like a wicked storm, and like usual, I barred myself off from anyone and everyone. I couldn't sleep for many reasons.

The latter being yesterday's new arrival. An abuse case, no less. Brought to me in the late evening by local samaritans, this little girl couldn't have weighed more than fifteen pounds. She was writhing with fleas, caked in dirt and so emaciated that I could locate nearly every bone on her body.

They had found her on the side of an empty highway, dragging nearly two feet of heavy chain that had been attached to a worn collar around her neck. She was terrified, most likely having limited contact with humans, but they had managed to load her up in the back of their vehicle and drive her straight here.

I had thanked them profusely once they arrived and dropped her off. She was in bad shape, and could have been dead had a hungry coyote or reckless driver come along.

I hadn't bothered rousing Evelyn - one of my on-site employees and best friend - to help me get the little dog settled in. Her day had been absolutely nuts as she picked up on the slack another employee had left in their wake. Said ex-employee hadn't show up to work in over a week, and was considered fired after the five consecutive absence. Hadn't heard a thing from him since the last day he showed up.

Word had it, he'd been busted for selling coke on the streets in Vegas. Locked up for at least ten years. No worries though, I suppose. He was a bad apple anyway, and hardly helped around the rescue when needed.