leave the moment five o’clock came until he’d found a reason to hurry home.
A crowd of giggling women gathered around the reception desk. They hushed when he approached. The receptionist snapped a notebook closed and hid the binder behind her back.
“What’s going on here?” What was the woman’s name again? Lisa something-or-other. Bo said she’d had a baby. Must be showing off pictures. Babies. Bo wanted kids of his own. Coming home with tales of a chubby little infant might lift his spirits.
The women said quick good nights and fled, leaving Lucky alone with a wide-eyed, tight-lipped blonde. The traitors. She needed more loyal friends.
“Let me see.” Did that sound as gruff to the woman as it did to Lucky? For Bo’s sake, he added, “Please.”
They stood at a stalemate. The woman sighed and placed the book on the reception desk. Stickers of puppies and kittens dotted the front. She flipped the cover open to a picture of, not a grinning, toothless kid, but a dog. “My husband and I volunteer at the local animal shelter.” She paused long enough to huff a strand of hair away from her mouth, but kept her head down. “Seventy dogs and cats are due to be put down if we can’t find someone to take them. I was hoping those ladies might help.”
The SNB didn’t allow soliciting on the job. As a supervisor, Lucky should remind her of that fact. But seventy cats and dogs? Lucky didn’t like people most days, but animals were okay. And they didn’t deserve to die ‘cause no one wanted ‘em. Hell, if not being wanted meant a death sentence, Lucky would’ve been dead long ago.
The woman lifted her head. “They need good homes and soon.”
The magic word: need. If puppies and kittens helped Bo feel necessary, load a couple dozen in the car.
The woman peered through her bangs. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in adopting a dog or cat, would you?”
Cat Lucky might not like another tom hanging around, and Lucky’s schedule meant he wasn’t home much. Adopting a dog without asking Bo wasn’t the way to make him feel included.
“If you can’t adopt, can you at least foster?” The woman flipped pages. The book seemed a whole lot closer than before. Cat, dog, dog, cat.
“Foster? What’s that?”
“You don’t own the pet, you just keep it until someone comes along who wants to adopt. You’ll buy food, toys, bedding or whatever the fur baby needs, but all vet care is provided. That way it’s not in the shelter and gets a little more time to find a forever family.”
Fostering. Bringing home a puppy required way more time and attention than Lucky could manage. Fuck, his good intentions might go so wrong. “What do I have to do?”
The woman pulled her thinned lips back into a smile. “I’ll give you the address. All you have to do is go find a pet you’re willing to take, and the shelter will make the arrangements.”
***
Yips and yaps echoed off the walls. On all sides of the room cages held wriggling, furry bodies, from itty bitty pocket pups to mid-size. Here and there folks milled around, excited kids exclaiming, “I want this one!”
There were far more dogs than people.
“What’s out there?” He nodded toward a door emitting a lot of gruff barking.
The attendant replied, “Big dogs. Didn’t you say you lived in an apartment?”
“Duplex.”
“Those might be too big.”
“I’m about to move into a house. With a huge back yard.” Without waiting for his escort, he opened the door and stepped out between more cages. Bird dog, setter, lab mix, all wagging their tails and coming up to the door of their cages. “ Pick me! Pick me! ” they seemed to say. How could Lucky choose?
He’d grown up with dogs, working dogs mostly, to keep watch over the family’s goat herd. Big, shaggy animals, sweet to the family, protective around strangers, deadly to predators.
Lucky stared at a critter straight out of his memories—a knee high bundle of white fur. He reached
A crowd of giggling women gathered around the reception desk. They hushed when he approached. The receptionist snapped a notebook closed and hid the binder behind her back.
“What’s going on here?” What was the woman’s name again? Lisa something-or-other. Bo said she’d had a baby. Must be showing off pictures. Babies. Bo wanted kids of his own. Coming home with tales of a chubby little infant might lift his spirits.
The women said quick good nights and fled, leaving Lucky alone with a wide-eyed, tight-lipped blonde. The traitors. She needed more loyal friends.
“Let me see.” Did that sound as gruff to the woman as it did to Lucky? For Bo’s sake, he added, “Please.”
They stood at a stalemate. The woman sighed and placed the book on the reception desk. Stickers of puppies and kittens dotted the front. She flipped the cover open to a picture of, not a grinning, toothless kid, but a dog. “My husband and I volunteer at the local animal shelter.” She paused long enough to huff a strand of hair away from her mouth, but kept her head down. “Seventy dogs and cats are due to be put down if we can’t find someone to take them. I was hoping those ladies might help.”
The SNB didn’t allow soliciting on the job. As a supervisor, Lucky should remind her of that fact. But seventy cats and dogs? Lucky didn’t like people most days, but animals were okay. And they didn’t deserve to die ‘cause no one wanted ‘em. Hell, if not being wanted meant a death sentence, Lucky would’ve been dead long ago.
The woman lifted her head. “They need good homes and soon.”
The magic word: need. If puppies and kittens helped Bo feel necessary, load a couple dozen in the car.
The woman peered through her bangs. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in adopting a dog or cat, would you?”
Cat Lucky might not like another tom hanging around, and Lucky’s schedule meant he wasn’t home much. Adopting a dog without asking Bo wasn’t the way to make him feel included.
“If you can’t adopt, can you at least foster?” The woman flipped pages. The book seemed a whole lot closer than before. Cat, dog, dog, cat.
“Foster? What’s that?”
“You don’t own the pet, you just keep it until someone comes along who wants to adopt. You’ll buy food, toys, bedding or whatever the fur baby needs, but all vet care is provided. That way it’s not in the shelter and gets a little more time to find a forever family.”
Fostering. Bringing home a puppy required way more time and attention than Lucky could manage. Fuck, his good intentions might go so wrong. “What do I have to do?”
The woman pulled her thinned lips back into a smile. “I’ll give you the address. All you have to do is go find a pet you’re willing to take, and the shelter will make the arrangements.”
***
Yips and yaps echoed off the walls. On all sides of the room cages held wriggling, furry bodies, from itty bitty pocket pups to mid-size. Here and there folks milled around, excited kids exclaiming, “I want this one!”
There were far more dogs than people.
“What’s out there?” He nodded toward a door emitting a lot of gruff barking.
The attendant replied, “Big dogs. Didn’t you say you lived in an apartment?”
“Duplex.”
“Those might be too big.”
“I’m about to move into a house. With a huge back yard.” Without waiting for his escort, he opened the door and stepped out between more cages. Bird dog, setter, lab mix, all wagging their tails and coming up to the door of their cages. “ Pick me! Pick me! ” they seemed to say. How could Lucky choose?
He’d grown up with dogs, working dogs mostly, to keep watch over the family’s goat herd. Big, shaggy animals, sweet to the family, protective around strangers, deadly to predators.
Lucky stared at a critter straight out of his memories—a knee high bundle of white fur. He reached
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