Chapter 1: The Dog Nobody Wanted
A cafe owner kicked me and my blind chihuahua out because I only ordered coffee — then a stranger asked him one question that made him go pale.
At seventy-four, I lived carefully.
My husband of forty-six years had passed eighteen months earlier, and most of my Social Security check disappeared into bills.
Then I found Benny.
He was a fourteen-year-old blind Chihuahua whose elderly owner had died.
He'd spent months at a shelter because everyone wanted puppies, not a trembling old dog with cloudy eyes and missing teeth.
A volunteer told me Benny cried whenever someone walked away.
I understood that feeling, so I brought him home.
Since then, he slept against me every night and came almost everywhere I went.
At least neither of us had to be alone anymore.
One afternoon, after leaving flowers on my husband's grave for what would have been our 47th anniversary, I felt dizzy.
A nearby cafe advertised "Dogs Welcome," so I stepped inside to sit for a few minutes.
"Just a small coffee, please."
"$4.25," the waitress said.
Before I could pay, a man behind the counter looked me over.
"That's all you're ordering?"
"I'm lightheaded.
I just need somewhere to sit."
His eyes dropped to Benny.
"Then the dog can't stay.
Pet-friendly seating has a $30 minimum."
"It doesn't say that anywhere."
"It's my cafe.
I'm telling you now."
At the next table, a golden retriever slept beneath a couple's chairs.
"But their dog is allowed."
The owner glanced at Benny.
"That's different.
Yours is old, unattractive, and looks like it's barely hanging on.
Animals like that frighten off customers who actually spend money here."
My throat tightened.
"He's blind.
He's not hurting anyone."
"I decide what kind of atmosphere I want." He pointed toward the door.
"Spend thirty dollars or take him somewhere else."
I held Benny closer and turned to leave, but another wave of dizziness hit.
An older man in an expensive coat caught my elbow.
"Easy.
Are you all right?"
Before I could answer, the owner called out, "She's fine.
She was just leaving with her ugly dog."
The stranger frowned.
"Your name is Christopher F., isn't it?"
The owner's smile faltered.
"Yes.
Why?"
The stranger looked at Benny, then back at him.
"Tell me, Christopher...
does the name Victoria L.
mean anything to you?"
Every bit of color drained from Christopher's face.
---
Who is Victoria L.
— and why did that name make Christopher go pale?
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