They arrive in Richmond early on a Saturday morning. Some leap out of the car, their tails wagging excitedly. Others tentatively step down, ears tucked and eyes wide, uncertain after the long ride from Alabama.
People cluster around the car as volunteers reach for muzzles and collars, checking against their list. They call out names like Al’s Dust Kicker, Kiowa Mon Manny, and Flying Angela.
We scan the plastic collars, looking for the one with Flat Out Hacky scribbled in black Sharpie, eager to get our first look at the dog we’ll be bringing home.
This story appeared on Hometown Junket, a collection of stories by and about Richmonders.