by Holly Jacobs
Nothing But Love
A WLVH Radio Series & Everything But…Series short story
By Holly Jacobs
The characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is coincidence and not intended by the author.
Copyright 2012 Holly Fuhrmann
Dedication:
This short story is inspired by, and dedicated to Marguerite, a little dog who suffered horribly, but still found the strength to wag her tail!
To Tami McGraw, a wonderful friend who shared Marguerite’s story with me.
And to the people at Houston County Humane Society who made Marguerite part of their family and work to find all the dogs who come through their doors their own forever-homes!
Nothing But Love
A WLVH Radio Series & Everything But… Series short story
By Holly Jacobs
“Good morning, Erie! This is Angel Hart, WLVH’s newest DJ. Yes, I know, I’m working for a radio station that has the tagline, where love is more than just a song and that makes my last name, Hart, sound suspect. But that’s what it says on my birth certificate. It’s H. A. R. T. No ‘e’ in it, but still, I think that my last name might have made my application for this position at WLVH stand out. So, thank you Grandpa Elmer Hart, and all the generations before him. Right now, I’ll be your weekend disc jockey, and I’ll being going out on a lot of the station’s publicity jaunts. There are a lot during the holiday season. I’m looking forward to meeting you all.”
One week. Angela had survived her first week at work without any major mishaps or missteps.
She looked at the small elderly woman who sat across the table in the studio. She held a small white dog on her lap, while a much larger black dog lay at her feet. “Mrs. Salo—”
The tiny grey haired woman leaned too close to the microphone. “Call me Nana Vancy, Angel. Everyone does.”
Angela gave a little wave, indicating the woman should move back a bit. “That’s Angela, Nana Vancy.”
“I know that people are listening to this show on the radio, so they can’t see you, but from where I sit, you look like an Angel. And since it’s the Christmas season, it stands to reason WVLH would get their own Christmas Angel.”
Angela didn’t have a clue how to respond to that, so she simply asked, “Could you tell me why you’re at the radio station this weekend…with your dogs.” The dogs had thrown her off when her first interviewee had shown up with them in tow. Angela had worked at a station in Pittsburgh before relocating to Erie, and she’d dealt with odd guests before, but no one had ever brought pets to a radio interview.
Nana Vancy moved back a little way from the mic as she mused, “Angel Hart. Yes, that’s the perfect name for a woman who works for a radio station that talks about being where love is more than just a song during the holidays.”
“Nana Vancy, you’re here to talk about…?” she tried again.
For a moment, Angela thought the woman was going to go on again about her name, but she finally said, “I’m here to talk about my foundation, Everything But a Dog. It all started when I cursed my own family to bad weddings. Once I broke the curse, I started matchmaking because I was bored, but there were occasionally a few problems with my matches. Eventually, I decided that my abilities were better served matching rescue animals to their forever home.”
“You have a big adoption event soon?” she asked.
“Yes, we have a big annual event in the summer, but the animals at the shelter can’t wait for that one day a year, so I go to the shelter once a month for Everything But a Dog Day, and help people find the perfect pet. I’ll be there this Saturday. We’re hoping to find some of the animals at the shelter their forever homes for Christmas…”
They made it through the interview, and as Nana Vancy gathered up her dogs and started out the studio door, she turned and said, “Angel, words have power. Every Hungarian knows that. I’m here to tell you that Angel is exactly the right name for you. You are going to find nothing but love. And when you do, your entire world will change for the better.”
The woman and her dogs left. Angela sighed with relief when the door closed. That was officially the weirdest interview she’d ever done. She wished she didn’t have to go cover the Everything But a Dog Day next weekend, but as the new kid at the station, she didn’t have a choice.
She’d be seeing Nana Vancy again soon.
Justin Stein switched off his radio. The old lady from the dog foundation sounded like…like his grandmother. His Grandma Millie was that kind of feisty. If she were here, she’d look at his house, devoid of any and all Christmas decorations, horribly messy with drapes that were drawn and she’d tell him to buck up. She’d tell him to stop focusing on what he’d lost and think about others. She’d squeeze his cheeks and tell him to pick himself up and just get on with it.
The problem was, picking himself up involved putting on his new prosthetic leg. Then hobbling about using crutches.
He knew he looked pathetic hobbling around. He didn’t want, nor did he need, anyone’s pity.
His doctor kept telling him that despite the infection, he was lucky. He could have died. Lost his life. But they’d saved him by amputating his leg below the knee. That was lucky, too, because below the knee was easier to adapt to.
Lucky?
Easier?
Justin snorted.
Easier for who?
He looked at the prosthetic leg, leaned against the couch’s end table.
There was nothing at all easy about this situation.
Angela kept waiting for the snow. Everyone said it was a given in Erie, Pennsylvania. And the holiday season was normally nothing but snow. Because the city was on the shore of the great lake, it got snow in huge quantities due to something called lake effect.
Well, there was no lake effect snow, or any other kind of snow the following Saturday as Angela pulled up to the Erie shelter where Nana Vancy was having her Everything But a Dog event. Before she was even out of the car, two dogs ran up to her…and then jumped up on her, greeting her as if she were an old friend.
She looked down at her jeans, that now sported big paw marks.
“Curie, Clara, down,” Nana Vancy hollered. She hurried over. “Oh, Angel, I’m so sorry.”
Angela brushed at the marks. “Well, let’s look at the bright side…paw marks don’t show on the radio.” She paused and added, “And it’s Angela.”
“Angel,” Nana Vancy said, as if she hadn’t heard her, “I love that sense of optimism. If I were still matchmaking people, I’d definitely include that characteristic while I looked for your soulmate.”
The last thing Angela wanted was to have Nana Vancy fixing her up. “Well, I’m sure all the animals are thrilled you’ve shifted your focus to finding the pets their forever homes.” And frankly, so was she.
“Speaking of that, I might have the perfect pet for an optimistic angel.”
“Angela,” she reminded the older woman. “And I’m not looking for a pet. I’m new to town and I work weird hours. I’m just covering the event for WLVH.”
“WLVH, where is more than just a song,” Nana Vancy murmured, staring at Angela in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Words have power, Angel. I told you that you were going to find nothing but love, I didn’t know it was going to be a dog, but it is. And you will meet the love of your life by Christmas all because you’re going to play angel for a very special dog.”
“…and that is why I have a new dog,” Angela said on Sunday morning to her WLVH audience. “Her name is Sera. When Nana Vancy saw her name, she looked at me and said, Angel, do you know that the seraphim are angels? She’s the one for you. She truly needs her forever home in time for Ch
ristmas.
“I said no. I meant no. There are a million reasons I shouldn’t have a dog right now.
“But then I saw her.
“Sera was a dog the rescue group didn’t think would ever be adopted. They found her on the side of I-79. She’d obviously been out there a long time. When they took her to the vet’s, she said Sera’s back was broken. The only thing that still works below her waist is her tail. And when she came out to meet me in her little doggie wheelchair, that tail wagged and wagged. I had a mental image of those airboats they use in the Florida everglades. Then, even worse than that tail, there were her soulful eyes. I looked into them and saw nothing but kindness and optimism. And I was lost.
“Maybe Nana Vancy’s right. Words have power. She told me I was going to find love, and now I have Sera.
“Of course, I’m going to have to make my new house wheelchair accessible. It shouldn’t be too hard. It’s a small cape on the east side of town. There are only three steps to get inside. I think I can manage making the ramp. Not that I know a reciprocating saw from a glue gun…”
Justin switched off the radio. He wasn’t sure why he’d turned on WLVH, a station known for its love songs. He was more of a country guy, especially since his leg incident.
WLVH’s newest disc jockey had probably only taken the dog home because she felt sorry for it. No one, not even a dog, wanted to be pitied.
As for a ramp for dog, it was obvious that the woman didn’t know her way around tools. How on earth was she going to manage it?
Justin glanced out his window at his truck. He hadn’t driven it since he got home from the hospital, then rehab. His physical therapist assured him it was okay. The truck was an automatic. He still had his right leg. He could definitely drive.
And though he didn’t know where the woman’s house was, it couldn’t be far. Erie was a city, but it was a small city.
Forget it. There was no reason he needed to help her.
She could hire someone to build a ramp.
Or she could carry the dog in and out.
He remembered his physical therapist putting a belt around his waist and holding it as he first tried out the crutches, then the prosthetic and crutches, and finally just the prosthetic. Ready to catch him if he fell.
Having someone hold him up was emasculating.
He couldn’t imagine the dog would like it any more than he did.
A ramp would give the dog a bit of independence.
Damn.
He reached over and took his hated prosthetic leg and strapped it in place.
It looked as if he was going to build a ramp.
Angela got home at the end of her shift, anxious to check on her dog, Sera.
Her dog.
She had a dog.
She still wasn’t quite sure how it happened.
One minute, Nana Vancy was introducing her to the dog, the next Angela was filling out papers, listening to instructions and bringing Sera home.
Nothing but love, Nana Vancy had said. Words have power, she’d said. Well, here she was, the owner of a special needs dog.
Angela was terrified that she was going to do something to hurt Sera. She’d been nervous putting her wheels on this morning.
But as she worked the straps, Sera turned around and daintily licked her hand, as if to say, you’re doing fine. Well, at least one of them thought so.
There was a strange sound coming from her backyard and it distracted her from her worry about the dog. It sounded like pounding, then something else.
She hurried back and some guy looked up, a drill in his hand.
“Pardon me, who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Justin. Justin Stein. I talked to Stu at the station. He gave me your address.”
Stu Stewartson was the WLVH programming manager. But she couldn’t believe Stu would give out her address to a stranger. “He just told you where I live? My home address?”
“I did some work on Stu’s house last year. He knows me. I heard you on the radio, and know your dog needs a ramp. I thought I’d see if I could help.”
Angela’s annoyance evaporated and was replaced by gratitude. The move had tapped out her savings. She didn’t have money to pay someone to build the ramp and had been afraid that it was beyond her nonexistent abilities to do it on her own.
“Oh, Justin was it? That was so nice of you. Why would you want to help my dog?”
The man stood up awkwardly, then thumped his lower left leg. “I know what it’s like to have to adapt to a loss.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for your pity,” he snapped. Then he looked awkward, as if he was embarrassed that he’d snapped. “And it’s Christmas. Nothing but Christmas everywhere I look,” he muttered. More loudly, he said, “I just thought I’d help out with a ramp for the dog.”
She wasn’t sure if his discomfort had to do with her comment, or with his situation. She looked at the half assembled ramp. “Let me change, and then I’ll give you a hand. And before you get short with me, that’s me offering as the home and dog owner, not me offering because you’ve got a messed up leg.”
“It’s not messed up, it’s gone.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she simply asked, “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got water. Or tea.”
Two hours later, Justin was finishing up the ramp. “The lumber’s pressure treated, so it should last a long time for you,” he said.
Angela pushed her brown hair back from her face. “That’s good. Now, I need to settle up on the materials and—”
“No, you don’t. A friend just built a deck, and he gave me some of the scraps and a few left over pieces. I had the galvanized screws in my garage.”
She protested, “But—”
“Really, it’s nothing.”
“It’s definitely something.” She paused and added, “Would you like to meet Sera?”
“I would.” Angela had let the dog out the front when she came home, so he’d yet to meet her.
“Let’s have a test run.” She disappeared into the house, and while she was gone, Justin got awkwardly to his feet and sat on a bench.
Angela opened the door and a tiny black dog stuck her face out the door and sniffed the air, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to find.
She eyed the ramp as if assessing whether or not she could navigate it. He didn’t blame her. He’d become more cautious, too since his accident. His physical therapist said that eventually, he’d get used to the prosthetic leg and forget he had it on.
Justin had looked up a video on YouTube of a guy running in some race…a guy with two artificial legs. He’d felt guilty then for his anger over his situation, but it didn’t erase his anger, it simply added a layer of guilt to it.
“Hi, Sera,” he called. “You can do it.”
The little dog’s tail started to wag. Not just wagged. His grandmother used to refer to him as a whirling dervish. He’d never quite known what a whirling dervish looked like, but Sera’s tail was exactly how he imagined it would be.
She didn’t simply try out the ramp. She sprinted down it, her tail looking like a propeller as she ran up to him and gave him pick-me-up, I-love-you eyes. He leaned down and picked her, wheels and all.
She snuggled up against his chest, her tail still going as he stroked the wiry hair on her head.
Angela pulled up a second chair and sat down next to him. “She’s a charmer, isn’t she?”
“She acted like we’d been best friends for years.”
“They say dogs are great judges of character,” Angela said.
“I’m surly and cantankerous according to my physical therapist.”
She nodded at his leg. “So its fairly recent?”
“The surly and cantankerous, or the leg?”
“Both,” she said, laughing.
Justin realized he’d just made a joke…a joke about his missing leg. That was a first. The first time he’d joked at all since the h
ospital. It was a lame joke, but it was a joke. “Yes, both are recent.”
“Well, you seem to be doing very well. Well, enough to take Sera for a walk? She’s been alone for a while and seems to really enjoy a couple blocks in the evening.”
She offered the invitation, commenting matter-of-factly about his leg doing well. He wanted to say no to the walk and get away from this optimistic woman and her whirling-dervish-tail dog. But for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself saying, “If you’re not going too far I’d like that.”
“You just let me and Sera know when you’ve had enough.”
Angela led Sera on her leash. When he stumbled over a crack, she thrust out her hand and took his, steadying him. And after he’d recovered, she continued to hold his hand. As if it were second nature. As if they’d walked this block, holding hands, a hundred times before.
“Here’s my favorite house.” She said, stopping in front of a red brick home. “It looks like a castle. Sera and I enjoy looking at it and imagining what it would have been like growing up in a house like that. Look at the Christmas tree in the window. We have a small tree that we’re putting up tonight, but nothing like that.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“In Pittsburgh. You?”
“Here in Erie.”
Sera squatted and did her business despite the wheels. “I wasn’t sure how she managed,” Justin said.
“The woman at the shelter told me that when she first arrived, they had to help her by squeezing her abdomen, but now, she’s able to go on her own.”
“Does she wear the wheels all the time?”
“No. When she’s going out, or wants to play, but most of the time, she’s content without them. I got her a doggie bed that sits on the end of the couch. As long as I’m next to her, she seems happy.”
