The Village Vet by Cathy Woodman Page A

amused. ‘What if his name begins with R? What about Buster? Did you try that one?’ Why did I pick on that name? The black dog looks up at me and wags his tail half-heartedly. ‘Buster isn’t the coolest of names, I suppose.’
    ‘He isn’t the coolest of dogs. He seems a bit on edge, like that cartoon,
Stressed Eric
. How about Eric?’
    ‘I prefer Buster.’
    ‘The manager’s choice,’ Jack acquiesces. ‘Like Buster, I know my place,’ he continues dryly. ‘Shouldn’t he have some kind of card to attach to his kennel?’
    ‘He’s the only dog here,’ I point out, miffed that Jack is so intent on telling me how to do my job.
    ‘I’m thinking about the volunteers. They’ll need to be able to record when they’ve fed and walked him.’
    ‘All two of them.’ In spite of myself, I smile. ‘Fifi’s army. I’ll put something up later. Let’s get him settled first.’ I pick up the slack in the lead. ‘Come on, Buster.’
    He isn’t impressed by his new accommodation, and it takes both Jack and me to coax him into the only kennel that’s ready. There are supposed to be ten, but DJ has only got as far as the second one, where he’s hanging the wire door on the front.
    ‘I’m glad to see you’re making progress,’ I say lightly.
    ‘You can’t rush a good job, my lover,’ DJ says, pausing to pick up a screwdriver from his toolbox.
    ‘Um, I don’t suppose you could fix the cupboard doors in the kitchen today?’
    ‘I’ll put that next on the list, but it may not be today,’ DJ says, all seriousness.
    ‘I was rather hoping to be able to make my breakfast tomorrow without falling over all that woodwork.’
    ‘Your aunt wants me to fix up the stable first. That’ll take a good few days because I’ve got to get a mini-digger in to dig out the floor in the barn, and then she wants a breezeblock partition, and that’s got to be lined.’ He grows defensive. ‘And it’s all very well her getting at me for getting backward with the work, when she’s not exactly coming forward with the money. She owes me for materials.’ DJ is one of those people who can’t stay cross for long. He smiles. ‘You’d better let me get on, in case you have any more dogs coming in today.’
    I glance towards Buster, who’s trotting up and down anxiously.
    ‘It’s all right, my lover. I’ll keep an eye on him.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I fold my arms as I walk back to the bungalow with Jack, keeping an emphatic distance between us.
    ‘You don’t need to worry, Tess,’ Jack begins. ‘I won’t be under your feet all the time. In fact, I’ll make myself scarce as much as possible.’
    ‘Whether you’re here or not, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve been employed to run the Sanctuary and I’m not going to let personal differences get in the way of doing my job.’ Okay, I think, I might not be here for long, but I’m not going to let Jack know that in case it should affect his opinion of my authority here.
    ‘Message received,’ he says in a low voice, but although I don’t want to have anything more to do with him, I can’t avoid interacting with him. There’s the cat I spotted this morning, for example. Having worked in animal welfare for a few years before he took a sabbatical, Jack knows the area and the animals that live within it.
    ‘That will be one of the feral cats,’ he explains. ‘After the cottage went up in smoke, some of Gloria’s rescue cats ran wild and bred with the feral cats that were already here, and their offspring bred and their offspring too, and now the site is overrun with cats, but I’m on the case. I’ve arranged to borrow some traps from a friend of mine.
    ‘The committee have managed to agree on one thing at least: to adopt a trap, neuter and release policy.’ He hesitates, looking me in the eye, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘I suppose I should run that plan past the new manager first.’
    ‘I should, if you want to get on the right side of her,’ I say