“Err, uh—uh, Dewey, I mean! Dewey,” he stammers.

“For short,” Macy adds. “We missed her so much.”

Molly mutters, “All right, let’s see here,” as she types something and studies her computer screen. “Great, I’ll have one of our techs bring her out in just a few minutes. Do you have her collar?”

Without speaking, I pull out the collar Gramps bought from my sweatshirt pocket, hand it to Macy, and then Macy hands it to Molly. Molly’s eyes meet mine for a second too long, then her eyebrows pull together. “Hey,” she says, “aren’t you Dr. Mitchell-Rosen’s kid?”

I shrug and shake my head, wordless, like one of those mimes I’ve seen on TV who look like clowns pretending they’re inside of invisible boxes and stuff like that.

Macy jumps in and says, “No, this is my cousin. Her name’s, uh—”

“Her name’s Macy!” Gramps says, just as I’m spitting out “Jude!”

“Yeah,” Macy says. “My cousin, Jud-cy? Ju-Judy, I mean. Judy.”

“From out of town,” Gramps adds.

“Salt Lake City,” I tell her in my weird spur-of-the-moment version of a cowboy-type drawl to disguise my real voice.

Macy adds, “That’s in Utah.”

“Allrightythen,” Molly says, shaking the thoughts of me out of her head. “Never mind, then.”

“But back to Dewey, the reason we’re here,” Macy insists, redirecting the conversation. “We’ll be sure to never let her out into the yard without her collar again, that’s for sure! So, can we just go back and get her now?”

“I’ll ask you to take a seat in the waiting area for now. It shouldn’t be too long. We’ll just need the fee, to cover the expenses of boarding Dewey this week.”

“Oh, of course,” Gramps says, pulling out his wallet.

Molly side-eyes us as we make our way over to the waiting area and find three seats next to each other. We don’t dare speak until we’re out of earshot.

“In the homestretch now,” Gramps says.

“You saved us, Macy!”

“Quick thinking on your toes, girls,” Gramps agrees.

“You too, Gramps! The way you ducked!” I giggle nervously, and Macy and Gramps join in.

Sadie! Sadie! You came for me!

I can hear Dewey calling me—I can feel how excited she is—I hear her barking, but it’s different than her sad, lonely howl from the day we met.

“She’s close,” I whisper. “Dewey!” I yell out loud. And just as I do, I hear paws scrambling against the floor, struggling to go faster. Then, I see her. Rounding the corner, dragging a vet tech behind her, pulling so hard they stumble and drop Dewey’s leash.

She runs toward me and I run toward her.