The Trip: Part 2By Immydog
Two women walked out of a white building carrying two dogs. These women were the other rescue team. The dogs they held quickly went into the carriers in their car. My assistant climbed into the back of their van and helped them arrange their crates in their car. She moved the ones with occupants to the front of the vehicle, and the empty ones toward the back so they were easily reached when the next rescue dogs came out of the building.
I stood there longing to get inside the building, but I had to wait patiently. A man came out of the building also carrying a small dog. He was wearing ear protection gear that looked similar to 1970's headphones.
I thought at first that he was with the girls, another rescue volunteer, but I soon realized that he was the kennel owner.
Several trips in and out of the building, and many rescue dogs into one vehicle or the other. When their van was almost filled, it was time to fill our kennels. We were invited inside.
My heart pounded as I approached the door, again scared and excited. On the door of the building was a warning sign for potential thieves similar to this one:
My instinct was to grab my camera. I found the sign somewhat comical and wanted a photo. But I didn't grab my camera. But I SO wanted to! But I didn't. But I SO wanted to! But I didn't. I did not want to do anything to jeopardize the rescue. If the owner of the kennel or the rescue group saw me pull out a camera, tempers would flair from both sides!
The door to the building was finally opened. I remember the cold metal handle hitting my hand. It wasn't a special handle, but it was a special moment.
The waft of urine, ammonia, and feces hits you like a brick as the door opens. I was so anxious that I felt as though I was running into the building! But I wasn't running. I was walking. Even more astounding than the odor, was the sound. The sound of 600 dogs barking about our presence.
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