To Catch a Treat by Linda O. Johnston

we’d been leaning against the reception desk. “Hi, Neal,” I said. “Hi, Janelle.” I quickly introduced her to Billi.
    â€œNice to meet you,” Janelle said, but her voice was soft and sounded confused. “But—I’m not sure why Neal brought me here.” She turned to look up at my brother’s face. They were holding hands and he was beaming with pride, as if their visit to the shelter had been his idea—and as if it were over already and had gone as well as I hoped it would.
    â€œCarrie has something to show us,” was his nebulous response.
    SomeONE to show , I thought, but didn’t contradict him. Sure, this could be a big mistake, considering Janelle’s attitude about her missing dog.
    I hoped not.
    I put Biscuit into the enclosed reception area. “That’s right,” I said. “This way.”
    We walked through the small dog building, and it was as noisy as before. The pups had had some time to rest their vocal chords, I supposed. I smiled sadly as we passed Sweetie.
    Then we entered the building where the larger dogs were housed. “Here we are.” But before we continued, I decided it was time to give Janelle an explanation. “I hope I’m not entirely wrong about this.”
    But I was worried that I was. Her attractive face seemed pale, and I thought I saw as much pain as before in her large blue eyes.
    Was this a big, bad blunder? Well, I had to follow through now, even if so. But I hoped that if she was a good match with my brother, she wouldn’t hold this against him if she just ended up feeling more hurt.
    â€œCome on.” I gestured to her. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
    Rightly or wrongly, I was hoping that Janelle would fall for one of the Labs here and adopt him, to help her get over the loss of her own missing dog. As a dog lover myself, I knew that a new dog wouldn’t be a replacement, but having one around might lessen the agony of loss.
    I took the lead, with Janelle following and Neal and Billi at the end of our line. I stopped a few kennels down, where the two Labs, black and gold, were inside.
    Janelle quickly stood beside me. The black Lab immediately started hurling himself toward the mesh gate, jumping and falling and jumping again. He made a crying sound from deep in his throat.
    Janelle knelt on the concrete floor outside the kennel run and thrust her fingers inside. The dog started licking at them crazily, still making the frantic noises.
    Janelle watched and crooned, too. And then she looked up
toward where I still stood trying to figure this out—and thinking that, somehow, I already had.
    â€œIt’s Go,” Janelle whispered.

six
    How was that possible? From what I’d understood, Janelle’s dog had been stolen in LA. She had decided to come up here, to Knobcone Heights, to try to get away from her sorrow, although she’d seemed unsuccessful at staving off her depression … before.
    But now, she’d found her missing dog. Or it certainly seemed that way.
    Billi had opened the kennel door and blocked Go’s roommate inside, then closed it again. Now Janelle sat on the room’s cement floor, laughing and crying as the black Lab jumped all over her and licked her face. The dog, too, made whining noises. They were communicating so loudly that I easily heard the two of them over the usual kennel barks.
    I looked at Neal, who was watching Janelle and the dog with a huge smile on his face. He turned to face me. “I knew you were one great sister,” he said, “but how on earth did you do this?”
    â€œI wish I could take credit for it,” I said, “but I can’t. Like I told you on the phone, my hope was to help Janelle heal by introducing her to another dog she might want to adopt.”
    â€œThis is a whole lot more than that,” my bro said, coming up to me and hugging me closely to his side.
    The smile I aimed at