Page 41 of Lift Me Up

I sigh, “Well, if you know what I was going to say without my saying it, then you already know.”

“That… is sound logic and I hate it. So, stop it.” She pouts.

“Want a distraction?”

“What could be a better distraction than alcohol over ice cream?” She shows me her now empty bowl.

“Dogs. Lots of dogs. Really cute ones, some scraggly ones but still cute. They need friends, and if you’re not willing to put yourself out there with a human yet after all this time, then maybe you should start out with putting yourself out there for a fur baby who is going to love you unconditionally and instantly,”

“What?” She sounds confused, but I just flash her a smile.

“Pull yourself together Francis, and meet me in the lobby in ten.”

“George, I⁠—”

“Do it,” I say, hanging up before she can protest.

I give her fifteen minutes, because I know she’ll spend five grumbling and complaining and not getting herself ready. But when I get down to the lobby, Franny is dressed casually in black leggings, an oversized off the shoulder shirt and her hair, bright blonde with pink and blue streaked tips is half up, half down, the half up twirled into a bun.

Her arms cross over her chest, and she pouts, “You better have a good reason for why I am not walking naked around my house nursing a bottle of wine.”

“Well, first off, we drank the wine you had, so you would’ve been out of alcohol to begin with. And second, I need a wing woman.”

“Um, last I checked you were pretty locked down. So why would you need a wing woman?”

I grin. “You’ll see. Follow me.”

“Oh god, now she’s rhyming.”

She does, bitching the whole way that she ‘doesn’t want to be out,’ that she ‘wants to be a single hermit forever.’ Franny doesn’t let up until we’ve walked the few blocks past Get Crafty and stand in front of Triple P. Pawsitive Passion Project looms over us and she glances up at it, then back to me.

“G, are you having a quarter-life crisis?”

I snort, “No, that was two years ago,”

“Then why are we here?”

“We,” I take her hand, “Are going to go make some new friends,”

Franny whines as I drag her toward the door, putting up a fake fight, “Ugh, but friends are so much work,”

Inside, Mary lights up when she sees me. I’ve been here a few times since Noah brought me, and every weekend I’ve come in with Noah since then too. She loves me just as much as Noah (or maybe secretly more but we don’t tell him that) and she’s added me to the official volunteer roster.

“Georgia! You look lovely as ever. Who’s this?”

“This is my best friend and partner in crime, Franny. You got the paperwork I sent in for both of us, right?”

“Paperwork?” Franny hisses at me, and I give her a squeeze to shut her up.

“That I did. You’re all approved and good to go. I’ll have to thank you again, we’re almost full, and we have so many others who are trying to be sent here from the kill shelters. We can use all the reliable fosters we can get.” Mary shows us to the back, as if I don’t know my way, and Franny’s eyes widen.

“Georgie, what did you do?”

“You’ll see.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Franny mutters, but she doesn’t turn around and walk out like she could have, so I take that as a good sign.

“Now, these are our available pups for fostering, so feel free to stop by their kennels and get to know them, see who fits with you, and then we’ll get on with the foster process! Oh, this is so exciting it’s one of my favourite parts to my job,” she titters with excitement as she walks away, leaving Franny and I to the board of fosterable dogs.