Monroe
I force myself to walk across the yard before I glance back toward Rhett. His vehicle nears the end of the lane and stops. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do, secretly hoping that he forgot something—me, maybe—and would have to turn around.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Rhett flicks on his blinker and pulls onto the highway. A second later Tess’s little red car turns down the lane.
Tess Walker moved to town a few years back. She runs the floral shop on Broadway, a few businesses down from Dirty Dicks, and volunteers here during her free time. And on Sundays so I can have a day off. So, pretty much, she’s an angel. She’s become an integral part of my life and she’s a regular on the rare occasions Claire and I manage a night out.
Ruby whimpers at my side. Letting out a slow breath, I reach in my pocket to grab a treat. I squat down and hold out the bone shaped biscuit. Ruby snags it from my fingers. Her body might be slow but her mouth is not.
“I bet you never thought you’d see Rhett again did ya, girl?” Her ears perk up at the mention of Rhett’s name. “Yeah, I know. You always were a sucker for those Allen boys.”
Gravel crunches under the weight of Tess’s car as she makes her way down the lane. Tess parks, hops out, and stuff her keys into her pocket.
“You’re early,” I holler.
Tess shrugs. “I got tired of painting and decided to call it quits. Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or was that Rhett pulling out of here?”
“That was Rhett.”
“Do you want to talk about what he was doing here, or will that require a case of wine? Because I’m not opposed to day drinking.”
“You drink wine by the case?”
She gives me a look. “Don’t most people?”
“No.” I shake my head and chuckle.
“Don’t knock ‘til you try it.”
Tess doesn’t know much about my relationship with Rhett, the same way I don’t know much about what brought her to Heaven three years ago.
“I’ll tell you about Rhett if you tell me why you moved to Heaven.”
Her smile fades. “If your story requires a case of wine, then mine requires several large bottles of tequila.”
“I actually have a bottle of tequila in the office,” I offer, curious to learn more.
“As tempting as that is, I’m going to pass. That’s a time in my life I’d rather not think about let alone talk about.”
“Maybe one of these days we’ll confide in each other.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe.”
“Well, I guess since we’re not going to get drunk and spill all of our secrets we might as well get to work.”
Tess laughs and falls in step beside me as we walk into Animal Haven. “It’s a sad day when we’d rather shovel shit than talk about our past,” I say.
She sighs. “Don’t I know it.”
“Hey, sweet boy.” I step into an enclosure and sit down next to an overweight black cat. Pickles lifts his head when I set a bowl of cat food in front of him. He sniffs his gourmet meal, takes a few bites, and then looks away.
“Come on, you have to be hungry.” I lift the big ball of fur onto my lap hoping a little love might entice him. “You haven’t eaten in three days. I’ll make you a deal… If you clean your plate tonight, I’ll give you some tuna tomorrow. I know how much you love tuna.”
Pickles looks pleased with the offer. Hopping out of my lap, he winds his way around my ankles—the first time he’s initiated any form of affection toward me—and my heart leaps with joy.
Rescues come and go, it’s the part of the job, but some are hard to let go of. Pickles is one of them. Three times now I could’ve adopted him out. Who knew fat cats were a hot commodity? But, I couldn’t do it.
“Meow.”
“Fine, you can have wet food, but just this one time.”
I grab a can of wet cat food from the supply closet and when I return, Pickles is creeping toward the door of his cage. “Oh, no you don’t.” I gently guide him back into the pen. “Tomorrow you’re eating your dry food first,” I say, peeling the top off. I plop the food into his bowl and when I turn around Pickles makes a mad dash for the open door.
Ruby barks and pickles skids to a halt.
Ears laid flat, he hisses and I scoop him up. “This is why I can’t let you roam free. You’re mean to the other animals,” I whisper, nuzzling his head. “One of these days you’ll learn that there are perks to playing nice.”
I’ve tried letting Pickles roam around Animal Haven the way Ruby does. My hope was that he’d get along with the other animals and I could make him a resident pet. Unfortunately, he failed each and every test. Not only does Pickles hiss and spit at every dog he sees, he doesn’t seem particularly fond of the other cats either.
I set Pickles down next to his food bowl and rub his head. “Eat.”
He plops down in front of his bowl. Craning his neck to the side, he sticks out his tongue and manages to snag a bite of food.
“Ruby, that’s what we call lazy.”
“Woof.”
Using my knee, I nudge Ruby out of the way and shut the door to the cage, making sure it’s locked before I turn away.
“Come on. One animal down, twelve more to go.”
The closest humane society is over an hour away in Houston which makes Animal Haven the go-to when there’s a stray or rescue animal. On average, we house anywhere from twenty to thirty animals although the facility is built to hold many more. A great turn out at the last adoption fair left us with the lowest census I’ve seen in a long time. Oddly enough, a lower number of mouths to feed doesn’t make my job easier.
With Ruby by my side I let the friendly, well-adjusted animals into the fenced in yard to play. The grumpy ones aren’t so lucky. They remain separated and I go from pen to pen giving each of them one on one attention.
“Mo?”
“Yeah?” I look up when Tess walks in.
“You’ve got someone here to see you.”