the administrator at HotRescues.”
“Oh, yes, Lauren. Good to hear from you. Queen is doing just fine, if that’s what you’re calling about.”
“It is. Would you mind if I stopped by for another visit?”
“Not at all.” She was home, and I headed my car in her direction.
Her house was a modest one, on a street off Nordhoff. The area was familiar. I’d visited another house just a block or two away last week, to check on a dog placement.
When I reached the front door, I assumed that Carmen Herrera had been watching for me. She opened it, and the sweet calico we’d rehomed here was in her arms.
“She’s still a house cat?” I confirmed as I followed Carmen into her living room.
“Absolutely. I’d be so worried if she roamed around outside.”
This was one of those situations where a person resembled her pet, or vice versa. I couldn’t be sure whether Carmen had selected Queen J based on the fact that her hair was fluffy and multicolored, too, but intentional or not, that was how it was.
I only stayed a few minutes. All looked well. Queen J was still the cat’s name, and she appeared pampered and happy.
All in all, a good rehoming. I’d mark the visit in our online files once I got back to HotRescues. I didn’t think we’d need to come back again, unless we got word that conditions had changed.
“Thanks so much for letting me visit, Carmen,” I said as I walked out the door. “You, too, Queen J.”
“Anytime,” Carmen said. “And thank you, Lauren, and all of HotRescues. It’s so wonderful to have a kitty like Queenie in my life. You know, I’ve told everyone about you, and my neighbors around the corner adopted a new dog from HotRescues just a couple of weeks ago. They’re the ones who told me about you.”
“I know,” I said. “And I appreciate the referral. The more pets we can adopt out to good homes, the happier we all are.”
Just for the heck of it, I drove around the corner and passed the house where that dog we’d recently adopted out now lived. He’d been sweet and shaggy, a reddish Briard mix we’d called Beardsley, and the house had a fenced yard much larger than Carmen’s. He was, in fact, the second dog we had placed with this family, as well as a cat who’d come here first. The humans consisted of a single parent, Margie Tarbet, and her teenage son, Davie. I’d interviewed both of them before the first placement and liked them a lot. Davie, in particular, seemed fascinated by the whole idea of pet rescue.
The cat, Nemo, and the first dog, Moe, had both been adopted more than a year ago and had seemed a good fit, even getting along together. We’d made sure that Beardsley was okay with cats by bringing him into one of our cat areas, and then had Margie bring Moe to HotRescues to confirm that Beardsley and he got along. No problems there, either. I’d spoken with Margie after she brought Beardsley home, and she had assured me that he and the others were all adapting fine to one another. I still wanted to check it out, though—as well as how the human family was relating to them.
I didn’t see either pup or the kitty outside, a good thing. I impulsively parked and went up the front walk of the cottage-like house, then rang the doorbell.
Dogs barked, but no person answered the door. That was fine. I’d no belief that there were any issues here. Beardsley was guarding his new home along with Moe, as he should. Nemo was probably observing the foolish, excited dogs, bored as he washed his paws.
I could only grin as I returned to my car. Even so, I’d do a follow-up visit here soon.
Back at HotRescues, I left a message on Brooke’s cell phone and gave Zoey a hug. My pup had been hanging out in my office, sleeping under my desk. I invited her to come along while I did my next shelter walk-through, and she eagerly agreed.
Bev was still staffing the welcome area. When Zoey and I passed through on our way outside, she was conversing with a young
“Oh, yes, Lauren. Good to hear from you. Queen is doing just fine, if that’s what you’re calling about.”
“It is. Would you mind if I stopped by for another visit?”
“Not at all.” She was home, and I headed my car in her direction.
Her house was a modest one, on a street off Nordhoff. The area was familiar. I’d visited another house just a block or two away last week, to check on a dog placement.
When I reached the front door, I assumed that Carmen Herrera had been watching for me. She opened it, and the sweet calico we’d rehomed here was in her arms.
“She’s still a house cat?” I confirmed as I followed Carmen into her living room.
“Absolutely. I’d be so worried if she roamed around outside.”
This was one of those situations where a person resembled her pet, or vice versa. I couldn’t be sure whether Carmen had selected Queen J based on the fact that her hair was fluffy and multicolored, too, but intentional or not, that was how it was.
I only stayed a few minutes. All looked well. Queen J was still the cat’s name, and she appeared pampered and happy.
All in all, a good rehoming. I’d mark the visit in our online files once I got back to HotRescues. I didn’t think we’d need to come back again, unless we got word that conditions had changed.
“Thanks so much for letting me visit, Carmen,” I said as I walked out the door. “You, too, Queen J.”
“Anytime,” Carmen said. “And thank you, Lauren, and all of HotRescues. It’s so wonderful to have a kitty like Queenie in my life. You know, I’ve told everyone about you, and my neighbors around the corner adopted a new dog from HotRescues just a couple of weeks ago. They’re the ones who told me about you.”
“I know,” I said. “And I appreciate the referral. The more pets we can adopt out to good homes, the happier we all are.”
Just for the heck of it, I drove around the corner and passed the house where that dog we’d recently adopted out now lived. He’d been sweet and shaggy, a reddish Briard mix we’d called Beardsley, and the house had a fenced yard much larger than Carmen’s. He was, in fact, the second dog we had placed with this family, as well as a cat who’d come here first. The humans consisted of a single parent, Margie Tarbet, and her teenage son, Davie. I’d interviewed both of them before the first placement and liked them a lot. Davie, in particular, seemed fascinated by the whole idea of pet rescue.
The cat, Nemo, and the first dog, Moe, had both been adopted more than a year ago and had seemed a good fit, even getting along together. We’d made sure that Beardsley was okay with cats by bringing him into one of our cat areas, and then had Margie bring Moe to HotRescues to confirm that Beardsley and he got along. No problems there, either. I’d spoken with Margie after she brought Beardsley home, and she had assured me that he and the others were all adapting fine to one another. I still wanted to check it out, though—as well as how the human family was relating to them.
I didn’t see either pup or the kitty outside, a good thing. I impulsively parked and went up the front walk of the cottage-like house, then rang the doorbell.
Dogs barked, but no person answered the door. That was fine. I’d no belief that there were any issues here. Beardsley was guarding his new home along with Moe, as he should. Nemo was probably observing the foolish, excited dogs, bored as he washed his paws.
I could only grin as I returned to my car. Even so, I’d do a follow-up visit here soon.
Back at HotRescues, I left a message on Brooke’s cell phone and gave Zoey a hug. My pup had been hanging out in my office, sleeping under my desk. I invited her to come along while I did my next shelter walk-through, and she eagerly agreed.
Bev was still staffing the welcome area. When Zoey and I passed through on our way outside, she was conversing with a young
Similar Books
