Chapter 19 - Chapter 19: The Balloon On The Handle

"Rosie girl, when are we going to get you adopted?"

Of course, the question is rhetorical, seeing as Rosie is a beautiful black-and-tan five-year-old Doberman who can't answer me.

I give her one more scratch behind the ears before locking up her crate for the night, Rosie's big body curling onto the fleece blanket I found at the Hospice shop last week for thirty rand. She's plenty comfortable in there, which makes sense. She's lived here nearly a year already.

I've only been in Joburg a few months, but from what Charity, who owns the place, tells me, I'm Rosie's favourite.

Most people think she's scary from the outside, but Rosie is a sweet softie on the inside, with plenty of love to give, as long as it's for the right person.

"You really should take that sweet girl home with you." Charity stands behind me while I stay sitting in front of Rosie's crate, watching her fall asleep.

"If only I could. Twin brother is still allergic."

"Ehh. I think I'd trade the brother for the dog."

"I think about it sometimes," I tease. "I can lock up for you tonight."

Charity brushes me off. "Vuyi, ngwanaka, you are twenty-six years old and it is a Saturday night. I'm sure you have better things to do than sit here with an old lady and some old dogs."

Charity Ngoepe may be a sixty-four-year-old widow, but there is nothing old about her. She still has a total pep in her step and works insane hours at the shelter. And that's because she loves this place and these dogs, as do I.