“I can’t—” He laughed. “This is seriously the cutest dog I’ve ever seen.”
“I know.” Luisa ran a thumb over Rosita’s forehead and grinned down at her. “She’s also the sweetest.”
Scout broke away from Jorge and wandered over. He nudged his way between Luisa and Matt and took in Rosita, reigning like an injured queen on the throne of Luisa’s lap. He gently touched her with his nose, sniffing at her bandage. Rosita sat still, granting him permission to perform his inspection. After a moment, she rolled onto her back and kicked her paws into the air, letting Scout sniff her tummy.
Scout exhaled sharply through his nostrils and sat back. Rosita slid off Luisa’s lap and tucked herself between Scout’s front legs. Scout stood over her like he was her bodyguard.
“Look at these two!” Luisa exclaimed. “It’s like they’ve known each other forever.”
“Scout knows a good dog when he sees one,” Matt said.
Rosita looked up at Scout, then at Luisa, then over at Matt. She yipped once, as if she was trying to get their attention. Scout looked down at Rosita and licked the top of her head.
“¿Sí?” Luisa laughed. “What is it?”
Moving surprisingly quickly, Rosita hopped up and click-clacked across the floor toward the front of the shelter. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder at the three of them. She barked once and took another few steps, then looked back at them.
“I think she wants us to follow her,” Matt said.
“Yeah,” Luisa replied. “She does this all the time. Rosita, stop. Come back here, silly.” Rosita looked toward the front of the building, then back at them, deciding whether to listen to Luisa or not. “Rosita,” Luisa said firmly, “ven aquí.” With a sigh, Rosita toddled back toward them and plopped down next to Scout, who curled himself around her. Luisa shook her head. “Every time I come here, she says hello to me for a second, then heads straight for the front door.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re her ticket out of here?” Matt asked.
“Maybe. It’s like she wants me to take her somewhere, but I have no idea where. Plus she’s not well enough to leave yet.”
“What happened to her?” Matt gestured at Rosita’s bandage and cast.
Luisa frowned. “It was bad. Someone found her trapped under a big tree branch after the storm. She had a broken leg and lots of cuts, and she hadn’t eaten for days. Luckily she was able to lick rainwater off the ground around her.” Luisa looked away for a moment, like the words were hard to get out. Matt waited until she was ready to talk again. “She was so weak when she got here. She couldn’t eat. I had to spoon-feed her. We didn’t think she was going to make it.”
Rosita pricked up her ears.
“Sí, señorita,” Luisa said. “I’m talking about you.” Rosita nudged at Luisa’s hand with her snout. “Oh, sorry, am I not petting you enough?”
“She looks like she’s healing really well,” Matt said.
“Dr. Correa said she’s never seen a dog recover so fast. That’s because Rosita’s a fighter.” Rosita was also starting to gnaw on a thick friendship bracelet on Luisa’s wrist. “Stop it,” she playfully scolded the dog. “That’s mine.”
“Was she a sato?”
Luisa shook her head. “We don’t think so. She has good teeth and some meat on her bones. So she wasn’t starving before she got trapped. And no one here recognized her from Sato Beach. We think she might belong to someone.” Rosita lay back down, rested her head on Luisa’s hand, and put one paw over Luisa’s wrist.
“You mean . . .” Matt was adding it all up. “Are you saying Rosita got lost in the storm—that she got separated from her family?”
Luisa nodded sadly.
“That’s so awful . . .” Matt thought about what Luisa was saying. What if he and Scout got separated in the middle of a terrifying storm? What if his dog was out there somewhere, wondering why Matt wasn’t by his side? Rosita’s family had to be missing this quirky little pup. “Is there any way to find her family?” Matt asked softly.
Luisa shook her head. “She doesn’t have a microchip or tags, and so far no one has come looking for her. And the island is a mess—it’s not like we can just walk around putting up flyers.”
Matt reached out a hand and gently rubbed Rosita’s soft belly. “For now she just needs to get better, right?”
“Exactly,” Luisa said.
Rosita began to doze off. Luisa gently, lovingly rubbed one of Rosita’s ears between her fingers until the dog was out cold and snoring.
Luisa pulled her hand away carefully so she wouldn’t wake up the little pup. “We should get to work,” she said. She walked over to the metal shelves and grabbed two pairs of rubber gloves, handing one pair to Matt and snapping the others on her own hands.
“You ready to clean out some cages?”
“Absolutely,” Matt said. “Show me what to do.”
“It’s dirty work, though.” She raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “You sure you’re up for it?”
Matt was totally up for it. He had come to Puerto Rico for a reason—to help in whatever way he could. He hadn’t predicted that “help” meant cleaning shelter dog cages, but if that’s what needed doing, that’s what he would do.
“I’m sure,” he responded.
They scrubbed each cage one by one, swept giant clumps of fur off the floor, and played with the dogs who pounced on their legs, eager for some attention.
Hours passed in what felt like a minute. Every so often, Matt or Luisa would look up to find Rosita—now wide awake—standing by the screen door, scratching at it with one paw and staring at them. And every time they caught her, they would scoop her up and take her back to her bed.
The third time Rosita scratched at the door, Matt picked her up and held her in his arms. “You’re determined, aren’t you,” Matt said with a shake of his head.
Luisa looked over from the cage she was wiping down with a rag. “It’s like she has somewhere to be,” she said. Before Matt could reply, Luisa’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked at it and gasped. “It’s so late!” she cried. “We have to hurry! We barely have enough time to get back before my parents know I’m gone.”
They stashed away cleaning supplies, said quick good-byes, and rushed to leave, but not before pausing over Rosita’s bed.
“I’m sorry we have to go, my sweetie.” Luisa leaned down and kissed the top of Rosita’s head. Rosita whimpered. She knew Luisa was leaving. “But we’ll be back soon.” Luisa looked at Matt. “Every time I go, I feel so awful leaving her here.”
“I know. But she’s going to be okay.”
“I love you, Rosita,” Luisa whispered.
“Bye, you funny little dog,” Matt said, scratching the soft spot under Rosita’s chin.
Scout nudged at Rosita with his snout.
Matt forced himself not to look back at the big brown eyes staring after them as they ran out the door.
They hustled down the road, and Scout walked ahead of them. The sun was dropping and the sky was turning a hazy gray. Neither one spoke—they were too focused on hurrying home. But about a mile down the hill, Scout froze in his tracks. He raised his head, spun around in the road, and looked past Matt and Luisa, back in the direction they had just come from.
Matt stopped too. “Scout, what is it?” He turned to look behind them, but there was nothing there.
“Scout, we’re in a hurry!” Luisa said.
In reply, Scout barked once, twice. Matt and Luisa followed his gaze toward the hill and squinted into the late-afternoon light. That’s when Matt heard a rustling in the trees that lined the road. He and Luisa exchanged a worried glance.
“Who’s there?” Luisa asked loudly.
Scout ran toward the sound. “Scout, stay,” Matt cautioned him. Scout stopped and stared into the brush, his ears back.
The rustling grew louder. Matt swallowed the lump in his throat.
Something dark and low to the ground emerged from the s
hadows between the leaves and branches. Luisa sucked in her breath, and Matt’s heart pounded in his chest.
The blur let out a familiar bark.
It was Rosita.
She had followed them.
8
MATT HAD A BASIC KNOWLEDGE of Spanish, but he definitely did not understand a single word that came streaming out of Luisa’s mouth. He could only guess—from the shocked look on her face and her hands waving in the air—that she was really, really surprised to see Rosita. Luisa ran over and snatched up the dog from the ground, squeezing her tightly.
“Ay, Dios mío.” Luisa exhaled, pressing her cheek to Rosita’s furry snout.
“She must have raced after us when we left,” Matt guessed. “What a little escape artist.”
Rosita sniffed at Matt’s face and gave his cheek a lick.
Scout pranced beside them, looking up at Rosita like he was excited to have his friend back.
Luisa shook her head and scanned the darkening sky. “We don’t have time to take her back. We have to get home fast. What are we going to do?” Her face was screwed up with worry. “I can’t take her to my house. My parents will never let her stay. But if I take her back to the shelter, I’ll get home so late and they’ll ask where I’ve been, and then . . .” She trailed off and buried her face in Rosita’s fur. “You rascal,” she said lovingly. Rosita shot her an innocent who, me? look.
Matt could see that Luisa loved Rosita the way he loved Scout. They belonged together as much as he and Scout did.
Maybe this wasn’t a problem. Maybe it was an opportunity.
“Let’s take her with us,” Matt said without hesitation. “She can stay with me and Scout.”
Luisa looked unsure. “It’s not that simple, Matt.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Luisa considered what he was saying. “Then what?”
“I don’t know,” Matt admitted, “but we’ll figure it out.”
Luisa gave Matt a skeptical look, though she had no choice but to agree. She nodded and they set off for the long walk home.
Lucky for them, they made it back to base with seconds to spare. As Luisa settled Rosita into Matt’s apartment, the front door opened and Matt’s mom walked in. With barely a glance at them, she heaved her pack off her back and onto the floor with an exhausted sigh.
“Hey, honey,” she said. “Hi, Luisa.”
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, Colonel Tackett.”
Scout ambled over to greet her, stuffing his snout in her palm and leaning against her legs while she gave him a good scratch.
“Hey, Scout.”
He sniffed at her pants and gear and the tens of thousands of new smells she had brought in with her.
Matt’s mom took off her hat and pulled her hair out of its bun. She rubbed her face with both hands. She still hadn’t noticed Rosita . . . yet.
“How’d it go out there?” Matt asked, trying to figure out the best way to tell his mom about this new pup. His mom was the biggest dog person he knew—she’d built her whole career around working with K-9s—but he didn’t know how she’d feel about a surprise dog in her living room.
“It was tough.” She shook her head. “We’re just trying to start with the basics. You know, water, fresh clothes, a hot meal. There’s a lot to do.” She finally looked up at Matt. “I’m just glad we’re he—” Her eyes fell on the scruffy black-and-white dog in Luisa’s arms.
“Mom—”
“Um. Matt—” Matt’s mom blinked once. Twice.
“I can explain—”
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, getting her reaction under control. “Why is there a new dog in my house?” she asked more calmly.
“Mom, this is Rosita.”
“Rosita?”
At the sound of her name, Rosita wagged her tail, which made her whole body wiggle.
“Doesn’t that mean . . .” Matt’s mom squeezed one eye shut as she tried to remember the translation. “‘Little rose?’”
“Yes,” Luisa piped in.
Matt’s mom didn’t say anything as she studied the little dog. Matt held his breath and waited.
“She’s cute,” his mom finally said, much to his surprise and relief. She stepped over to get a closer look. “She’s so bright-eyed. And look at those ears!” As if she knew what was at stake, Rosita batted her eyelashes at Matt’s mom and wagged her tail some more.
“I think she likes you,” Luisa said, a hopeful note in her voice.
“You do like me, don’t you?” Matt’s mom asked Rosita in a singsong voice. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here, now, does it, girl?”
“Yeah, so—uh, well,” Matt began. “Rosita kind of followed us home.”
“Is she one of those street dogs?” his mom asked. “There are so many here.”
“No,” Luisa said. “At least, I don’t think she’s a sato. I think she had an owner but they got separated during the storm.”
“That’s awful.” His mom lifted up Rosita’s ears and looked inside, then opened her mouth and checked her gums. She peered under the bandages on Rosita’s legs. “And I agree with you. She seems like a dog who’s been taken care of. She’s not jittery like a lot of strays. She’s very alert—you see how she’s listening to every word I say?”
Matt and Luisa nodded.
Matt’s mom ran a hand over Rosita’s head and scratched her behind the ears. “You still haven’t answered my question, though.” She held Rosita’s face in her hands. “What are you doing here, little one?” She looked from Matt to Luisa and back again. “She’s not talking, so maybe one of you should?”
“It’s my fault—” Matt and Luisa both blurted out at once.
Matt’s mom chuckled. “I see. Have a seat, you two. And spill it.”
Matt and Luisa confessed the whole story to his mom—how Luisa volunteered at the shelter, how Rosita always tried to escape, and how she had followed them home. Rosita sat on the floor at their feet, listening to their conversation as if she knew her fate was in their hands. Scout lay next to her, his head down on his paws.
“Please, Colonel Tackett,” Luisa said. “My parents will never let me keep her.”
Matt’s mom was quiet for a moment, taking it all in.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” She put an arm over Luisa’s shoulders. “Rosita can stay here with us tonight—Matt will take care of her.”
Matt nodded energetically.
“I’ll talk to your parents first thing tomorrow morning,” his mom went on. “I’ll explain everything you just told me and then we’ll all put our heads together and figure out how you can keep Rosita. Okay?”
Luisa sniffled and fought tears. “I’d do anything for Rosita. She’s different. She’s kind of . . . magical.”
Matt’s mom smiled. “That’s what Matt said about Scout when I wanted to put him on the first plane back to Mississippi. And guess what? Matt was right. I think you are too.”
“Thanks.” Luisa gathered her things and got ready to leave. But just as she opened the door, a black blur whizzed past her ankles.
“No!” Matt and Luisa shouted at the same time.
But there was no time to react. It was too late.
Rosita had escaped again.
9
SCOUT SHOT OUT THE DOOR AFTER ROSITA, and Matt and Luisa were fast on his tail. They sprinted across the base. The smaller dog ran in an uneven gait, but her injuries didn’t seem to slow her down one bit. She dodged Scout and scooted around him with surprising agility.
“Get her!” Luisa called out to Matt.
“Catch her!” Matt called out to Luisa.
They ran after Rosita, Matt breaking left and Luisa breaking right. It wasn’t so much that the tiny dog was fast—it was that she was smart. Every time Matt caught up to her, she sensed him closing in and turned on a dime, redirecting and slipping out of his reach. Luisa and Scout didn’t have any better luck.
“How is she doing this?” Luisa
shouted to Matt.
“I have no idea!” he called back.
“She shouldn’t be running like this—she’s not even healed.”
“Doesn’t seem to be stopping her.”
Matt scanned the area around them but didn’t see the dog. He and Luisa stopped to catch their breath, when out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw a dark flash in a narrow passageway between two buildings.
“There she is!” Matt shouted to Luisa. “Go around the building!”
Luisa ducked left. Matt went the other way. Scout got to the back of the building a second before them.
But Rosita was gone.
Scout took off at a fast trot, his nose skimming the ground. He turned a corner and was quickly out of sight.
They raced after him. Just as they reached the corner where he had turned, a man stepped out in front of them, blocking their path.
With one hand, the man gripped Scout by the collar.
In the other hand, the man held a very guilty-looking Rosita. She had her head down and peered up at Matt and Luisa like she knew she’d been busted.
Luisa sucked in her breath and held it. Matt was about to thank the man when he realized who it was.
It was Luisa’s dad.
And he did not look happy.
Matt and Luisa reflexively snapped to attention, standing shoulder to shoulder, their backs straight and their arms at their sides.
“Dad!” Luisa squeaked.
“Colonel Dávila!” Matt gulped.
“You looking for this?” Ric said, one eyebrow up and his lips pursed. He held Rosita out in front of him as if he were holding a pile of dirty laundry.
“Um, yes,” Luisa said.
“Yessir,” Matt said.
“What is this dog doing here?” Ric asked. Matt couldn’t help but notice that Ric barely ever blinked.
Matt swallowed hard.
“Dad, it’s my fault . . .” Luisa began.
Storm Dog Page 4
