The woman, Pauline, said Nora was to start work in the dog shelter, rather than the cat shelter,
and so Nora had a legitimate excuse to ask what to do and look confused.
Also, the issue of knowing people’s names was solved by the fact that all the workers had name badges.
Nora had walked a bullmastiff, a new arrival, around the field behind the shelter.
Pauline told her that the bullmastiff had been horribly treated by its owner. She pointed out a few small round scars. “Cigarette burns.”
Nora wanted to live in a world where no cruelty existed, but the only worlds she had available to her were worlds with humans in them.
The bullmastiff was called Sally. She was scared of everything. Her shadow. Bushes. Other dogs. Nora’s legs. Grass. Air.
Though she clearly took a liking to Nora, and even succumbed to a (very quick) tummy rub.
Later, Nora helped clean out some of the little dog huts.
She imagined they called them huts because it sounded better than cages, which was really a more apt name for them.
There was a three-legged Alsatian called Diesel, who had been there a while apparently.
When they played catch, Nora discovered his reflexes were good, his mouth catching the ball almost every time.
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