Dogs by Nancy Kress

here. Sunlight flashed suddenly on her wedding ring. Did her husband know she’d volunteered for this deputizing? Did he mind?
    The door was opened by a little girl with bright red hair in pigtails. She took one look at the cages and burst into loud wails. “No, no, you can’t take them! Nnooooo!”
    An old woman hobbled from the kitchen. “Jess, I’m sorry, I told her, but she—oh, dear!”
    Jess knelt down and tried to put his arms around Hannah but she pushed him away. “You can’t take them!”
    â€œI have to, dear heart,” he said gently. “But I promise I’ll watch over them with extra special care. And maybe it will only be for a little while.”
    Hannah cried, “You’re mean and I hate you! I hate you forever!” and ran out of the room.
    â€œI am sorry, Jess. I tried to explain it to her, but…I did try.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Aunt Kitty,” Jess said. His throat hurt. “Where are they?”
    â€œIn the basement. I thought it best.”
    â€œCome on, Tessa,” Jess said, leading the way. He drew his gun, just in case, but Aunt Kitty had said there was no change in behavior, and what Aunt Kitty didn’t know about living creatures wasn’t worth knowing.
    â€œâ€˜Aunt Kitty’?” Tessa said behind him. He heard the cage thump against the stairwell wall and guessed she was carrying it one-handed, the other still free.
    â€œMy great aunt. Hannah was visiting her great-grandma when FEMA put up this quarantine, and now she can’t return to her parents, who are frantic in D.C. Aunt Kitty told me all this on the phone this morning. She—there you are, Missy!"
    The collie lay in a big, low-sided box beside the furnace, nursing four mongrel puppies. She wagged her tail at Jess, regarding him trustingly from big eyes the color of caramels. The eyes were unclouded. Missy let him pick up all four puppies, which looked like the father might have had some German shepherd in him, and transfer them to a towel on the floor of the cage. Then Missy followed them inside, lay down, and resumed nursing.
    â€œToo bad they’re not all this docile,” Tessa said.
    â€œThen we wouldn’t have a plague, would we? There, Missy, good girl, good dog.”
    Tessa said abruptly, “Do you have a dog?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI do.”
    Jess rose so fast that Missy shifted uneasily. “You have a dog? And you didn’t think to mention this before? Where is it?”
    â€œI’m mentioning it now,” Tessa said evenly. “It’s in my house. She’s a toy poodle, about as menacing as a gerbil, and she has not encountered any other dogs in Tyler since I moved her three weeks ago. Zero. Zilch. None.”
    â€œThat doesn’t exempt you from bringing her in with the others, as I suspect you know very well. Was that why you volunteered to be deputized? So you could evade the rules?”
    â€œIf I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t be telling you about her now, would I? She’s not on your county list because she’s still licensed in D.C. Don’t tell me how to obey the law, Jess Langstrom. I was an FBI agent.”
    â€œBut you’re not now, are you?” he said pointedly. She turned and walked up the stairs.
    He followed with the cage, set it in the truck with Schnapps and Applejack, and went back inside. Tessa sat at the kitchen table with Aunt Kitty, completing the quarantine form. Aunt Kitty said, “Would you two like some coffee and cake before you go on? I just baked it this morning.”
    â€œI’m sorry, we can’t,” Jess said. “Short on time.”
    â€œAnd temper,” Tessa added sweetly. “Good-bye, Mrs. Jamison. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
    â€œYou too, dear.”
    In the truck Tessa demanded, “What was that all about in there?”
    â€œNothing,” Jess said shortly. “Forget