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Finding Home
“Archy?” I skidded down my back porch, knocking over the loose grey post. “Come here boy!” I scrambled through my yard checking behind every tree and shrub in my yard. My one phone call had taken away the thing I loved the most. I knew I should’ve never answered it. Now, he’s gone. I drop like a stone, not daring to get up. My hands shake from the crisp air as I yank my cell phone from the back pocket of my jeans and dial the animal shelter.
“Hello? My name is Katie, and my dog, Archy, is missing. I don’t know where he went. It like he just--- disappeared. One minute he was standing on my patio, staring at the birds, and the next he was gone.” I rambled on about his breed and how he was always energetic until a man cut me off.
“Miss, please calm down. We’ll call you if we get any new dogs in matching your description, but I’m sure he’ll come home soon.”
I held my phone for months, clinging to the hope my energetic bundle of joy would come home, but he never did.
Two years passed by and I decided a new dog was best for me. I drove my blue Dodge to the Deansburrow Animal Shelter and slipped out into the warm summer air. Gravel crunched under my feet as I wandered up to the screen door. Last time I was here, I left with Archy. Now I was going to leave with a new dog. I pushed open the screen and muddled my way to the dog kennels. I glided past each kennel, no dog catching my eye, until I saw him. He was the dog of my dreams, and he was finally coming home: Archy!
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