The Greys Chapter 7: Adoption
#8 of The Greys
Jo let out a sigh as she looked through the numerous couples looking to adopt. Most of them wanted sheep, or bunnies, or kittens, or other domestics, but none of them seemed to want fox kits. The more she searched through the profiles, the more she became disheartened. The vixen's hand gently rubbed over her swollen belly, "I'll find ya a mama and a papa, Kody. Don't you worry."
She'd found out not long after the meeting that she was pregnant with a boy. She'd started to call him Kody from that day forwards. It felt odd to name a child that she was going to give up, but it was the only way she could really keep from going crazy.
May and June passed by with very little in the way of prospects for her yet to be born child, and the more she thought about it, the more she was open to the idea of coming clean to her parent and sending Kody to live with them. At least he would be with his own blood kin. It was the first day in July that she finally found someone she liked.
They were a domestic inter-species couple. The wife was a mutt; part German Shepherd, part Irish Setter, part Boarder Collie, part Welsh Corgi, and part coyote. She wasn't able to have children at all, partly because of her size, but mostly because she was barren. The husband was a pure bred German Shepherd on his second marriage. But what really caught Jo's attention was that they were looking for a tod kit. It was the first time she'd seen anyone list tod kits on their dossier, most of them wanted vixen kits. But it got better. The husband was an airline pilot, which meant he made enough money to comfortably provide for his family, which was perfect. Kody wouldn't have to worry about anything when he grew up.
Slowly, Jo made her way into the hall, towards the hanging in wall phone. She punched in the number to the adoption agency.
Brenda Schaiferhund was surprised to hear the phone ring during lunch. It was a weekday after all and most telemarketers called during weekends. Slowly, the mutt woman slid out of her chair and headed over to the ringing telephone. Brenda was a mutt, but most of the time she was mistaken for a Vallhund because of how short she was. She had to climb onto a chair to get at the phone, picking it up and pressing the transmitter to her ear. "Schaiferhund residence," she said into the receiver.
"Mrs. Schaiferhund, this is Mrs. O'Donnell with Open Hearts Open Arms. I know you were looking for a tod kit, and we found one. A Miss Josephine Grey contacted us back in May about putting her son up for adoption. We just got off the phone with her, and we think he would be a perfect match," the voice said into Brenda's ear.
"How old is he," was the first question. The mutt bitch was very curious. She didn't have a problem adopting an older kit, but part of her wanted to raise him up from a baby.
"Miss Grey is due in the next week or so," the woman replied, "Second week of July, I believe."
Brenda just about dropped the phone and fell out of her chair. It was what she wanted. It was perfect. A kit to raise from childbirth, like he was her own son.
"Mrs. Schaiferhund?"
"I... I'll need to talk this over with my husband, but I think... I think he's exactly what we're looking for."
"Of course, Mrs. Schaiferhund. Please call me back as soon as you come to a decision."
"Yes. Yes, of course."
The woman on the other end hung up with Brenda still holding onto the handset.
Johan Schaiferhund was rummaging through his corporate mail in the pilot's lounge of Trans-National Airlines. He'd just finished a flight that morning, a long eight hour ordeal with two stops to refuel and change passengers, and he was ready to call it a day. The pure bred German Shepherd started to make his way towards the lounge door, when one of the dispatchers poked his head out of his office. "Hey Johnny, your wife's on the line, says it's urgent."
Johan blinked a few times. His wife never called him at work unless it was an emergency. The last time he'd gotten one of those calls, the shepherd's parents had passed away, so it made him a little worried. "I'll be right there," the dog replied, making his way towards the dispatcher's office. The other man, a stocky bulldog, handed him the phone. "What is it? What's wrong, honey," were his first words.
"Nothing's wrong. In fact, it couldn't be better," Brenda replied, which only confused Johan. "What do you mean," he asked.
"The adoption agency called. There's a vixen who's looking for someone to adopt her tod kit," his wife's voice was incredibly high pitched when she got excited.
"How old is he?"
"He hasn't been born yet! The vixen is due soon though," the mutt yipped out happily over the phone. The shepherd nodded, "And this is the one, Brenda?"
"Yes, this is the one," Brenda said emphatically.
"All right. Call them back and let them know."
"Love you."
"I love you too," Johan said before he hung up. The bulldog looked at him, "What was that about?"
The shepherd just smiled, "We're having a baby."