Free Best Friends by Samantha Glen

class. “For the dog,” they said sweetly as they brought Michael the usual bland coach fare.
    On the drive from Las Vegas, Sun decided that Michael’s thigh was the only place to put his head, snoring all the way. Michael passed the time by lecturing the sleeping dog on his wretched behavior, and how he would keep Sun in a run all by himself, and how nobody would ever, ever adopt such a silly, silly animal. The Doberman would show his terror at these threats by occasionally waking and licking Michael’s hand.
    The saving of Sun (what else could you call bringing home that miserable creature?) was thoroughly unlike the rescue of Goldilocks. And yet both in their way showed to what lengths and with what good humor the men and women of Angel Canyon would go for any animal in need.
    They would need all the ingenuity and humor they could muster in the years to come.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Good Days/Bad Days
    T here were good days and bad days, and sometimes they both came on the same day.
    When Mary Cram arrived at the bunkhouse with a fresh-baked apple pie, it was a good day. No explanation was given, but the gesture broke the ice, and the men were pleased to have a nod of recognition and an exchange of pleasantries with Norm Cram when they passed his wooden house.
    It was both good and bad in the summer of 1984 when the rains came—sudden downpours that in seconds turned their dusty dirt roads into ankle-deep mud slides. The benign river that meandered slowly through the meadows below was suddenly a raging torrent of water that reminded them all too clearly of how the canyon was created. It was no wonder the descendants of the Kanab oldtimers still told the tale of the great flood of the 1890s.
    But of more immediate concern to the men in Angel Canyon was the deluge of saturated red earth that threatened to inundate their new home. They scrambled like ants to shove logs up-slope from the bunkhouse to stop the slow ooze, toiling two precious weeks to build a retaining wall. They spent more valuable hours laying two-by-fours on the paths to the county road so that their trucks wouldn’t sink, hopelessly mired until the rains ceased.
    But the rains taught them to build their future Catland and Dogtown on the highest ground of the mesa, well out of the path of flash floods, as well as giving a brief but gave blessed relief from the summer’s heat.
    When Steven Hirano was reunited with his first love, it was very good. “I received a letter from Mariko,” he confided.
    Michael was surprised. Mariko had been Steven’s childhood sweetheart, but she married another when Steven went to London. He hadn’t mentioned her in years.
    â€œShe’s divorced,” Steven continued. “I’m going to Los Angeles to see her over New Year’s.”
    Mariko came to Kanab the spring of 1985. By the time the last of the potatoes were dug, the canyon’s first wedding was planned. It would be at the newly christened Angels Landing, the spectacular amphitheater to which Francis had first taken Faith and Michael three years before.
    The ceremony was Buddhist, the vows simple. Mariko was radiant in white chiffon, and parents from both families snapped many photos to remind them of the day. Mariko’s loving energy was embraced by all. Steven smiled more; he seemed lighter somehow.
    By the fall of 1985, they were ready to begin construction on the sanctuary’s headquarters. The Village was Paul Eckhoff’s first chance to show his genius as an architect. He designed a sparkling white Spanish-style structure with a central meeting room, offices, and two wings of living accommodations. For this major project, Paul hired a contractor from town, but Steven Hirano would be the supervisor on the job.
    On this fateful morning, fourteen-foot beams were painstakingly erected in place, framing a panoramic view of the red-rock gorge and endless mesas so loved by all.
    The men stood, quietly proud. The