“So, I’ve never actually done this before. I keep telling myself I’ve got permission, but this still feels a bit like breaking and entry.” Tess’s key slid effortlessly into the lock. Still, she was almost surprised when the lock clicked open without objection. At the very least, she’d expected it to stick and to have to work to open it.
It took a second or two to realize that Mason was grinning. “I think you mean breaking and entering.”
Tess wrinkled her nose. “Now that you say it, it felt a little weird coming out of my mouth.”
Mason’s hand closed over her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze as Tess pulled the front door of the shelter open. “So, there’s no night shift on duty?”
“Not unless one is needed, and right now it isn’t. Typically, the animals are on their own from when the last person leaves at six or so until the first one arrives at seven in the morning. My shift’s eight to four thirty, and it occurred to me today that I really need to renew my license, or my bike ride home will end in the dark after the time changes next week.”
“You mean you’re biking here too? From the Hill?”
“Yeah, I kind of have an aversion to driving again. It’s never been a form of recreation for me, and I’ve been out of practice for almost a year and a half. Every time I think about getting behind the wheel again, it gets a little hard to breathe.” Tess bit her lip at how silly it sounded as she flicked on a few lights.
“I’ll take you out to practice.”
Tess shook her head emphatically. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think there are roads wide enough and empty enough for a hundred miles for me to practice in that monster of a truck.”
“I actually know the perfect place. No traffic. No pressure. Just fun.”
Tess heard herself agreeing, even though she was silently kicking herself for bringing it up in the first place. The last thing this whatever-it-was between them needed was for Mason to witness her having a full-fledged panic attack, which was quite possibly going to happen.
Although they had just been swinging by the shelter to grab a catch pole in case their search for John Ronald was fruitful and ended up with them having need of one, not taking a few minutes to introduce Mason to some of her favorites felt wrong. “So, it’s dusk and probably the best time all day to find John Ronald on the move, but would you like a quick tour? I know you said you’ve been here, but I’m not sure how long it’s been. I could introduce you to some guys that’ll melt your heart and put it together again.”
“I’d love a tour. And I suspect waiting until dark won’t hurt. Most of my sightings of John Ronald have been well after dark, some were even really late at night.”
“That makes sense. Strays get pretty good at modifying their schedules to encounter the least number of people.” Tess let the front door fall shut behind them and tapped her foot as she looked around. “There’s so much to show you. The renovations under way are something to see, but the animals make the place. And not just the dogs. I wouldn’t have labeled myself a cat person because I’ve only worked with dogs, but there are some real sweeties here.”
Tess led him toward the cat kennels. Most were dozing, but a few cats were awake and ready to play. Trina, the shelter’s resident cream-and-silver three-legged cat, was hanging out on the counter in front of the kennels. “This is Trina.” Even though Trina was dozing, Tess knew the affectionate cat was always up for a good scratch, and rubbed her under the chin. “She’s a permanent resident and getting up there in age now. She was found in New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina on a piece of driftwood with her mom and a few other kittens. Her leg was already missing, and there’s a bunch of theories of what might have happened, but no one knows for sure. She’s one of my favorite cats because she’s just so chill. She’s a behavior model for the other cats too. When new ones come in and see her hanging out in front of their kennels all calm and relaxed, it helps them not be afraid.”
“That makes sense. Does she mind being held?”
Trina was now fully awake and rubbing her cheeks along Mason’s knuckles. “No, she’ll let you carry her around, if you want to. Our other resident animal is a blind cairn terrier. He’s up there in age as well, and I think he’s dozing on his bed in the gift shop.”
Mason surprised Tess with the confident way he settled Trina over the length of his forearm—upright and not cradled, with her legs hanging free between his arm and his side.
“So, you like cats?”
Mason shrugged. “I grew up on a farm. We always had a couple cats around. I like their independence. Once we catch John Ronald, if he needs a companion, I’ll get him a cat.”
“I don’t know why, but that surprises me.”
He grinned. “Kind of the way it surprised me that you don’t drive?”
“Good point.” She laughed. “We’re one for one then.”
Keeping in mind that they had a time crunch if they wanted to search for John Ronald before dark, Tess refrained from taking any cats out of the kennels, though she pointed out ones with more remarkable stories, including a few pulled from nearly flooded storm drains, ones discovered cohabitating in unsuspecting homeowners’ houses, and two pulled from summer floodwaters.
As Tess finished with the cats, Mason pointed to the empty Cat-a-Climb.
“I told you my buddy is the architect who designed some of your recent renovations. I saw a 2-D version of this on his computer months ago.”
“That’s cool. And I can’t believe you actually know someone who summited Mount Everest.”
“Yeah, I know. It was his second attempt. The first was a couple of years ago, but a storm cut his window too short. I guess you could say that he’s driven. Driven but cool. He’s a remarkable architect too. He’s the one who drew up renovations for my building. That’s how we met. He does a lot of work downtown. Though you’d never know any of this if you didn’t hear it from someone else first. He’s not one to brag. Or talk at all, really, until you get to know him.”
“I know people like that. And I have to say, it still throws me that considering we met under such different circumstances, you saw the Cat-a-Climb before it was even built. You’d think I’d be used to how small the world is by now. In Europe, I met more than a few people who’d eaten at my uncle’s sandwich shop on the Hill, and I got to help harvest grapes in Switzerland with someone whose parents went to my high school years ago.”
“That’s cool, Tess.”
She next led him back to the dog kennels. Many of the dogs were sleeping off their recent dinners, though most perked their ears and half opened their eyes as Tess and Mason passed through. To keep them from getting too excited, Tess kept the lights dim and her voice down.
It was funny to her, but she could remember struggling for nights on end to memorize things in school, like the order and names of the presidents, but after being introduced to the majority of the dogs and hearing their individual stories a single time, she’d committed most to memory. She didn’t even have to spare a glance at the charts as she pointed several out to Mason.
She took the time to point out the perpetually happy-faced tan-and-white corgi that had been at the shelter for eight months. “Orzo here has been helping with the rehab of the confiscated fighting dogs that we talked about. I’ve been working with him for a month, while the rest of these dogs are new to me. He’s great at the rehab. When it comes to reading cues and getting along with other dogs, Orzo’s perfect. And his story is sweet in a very literal sense. He’s an owner surrender. When he came to us, he was drastically overweight. From what I heard, he mostly ate leftovers from his old owner’s bakeshop. His recent blood work shows an amazing change for the better. He lost several pounds, and he loves to go on walks now. When they first got him in, he’d drop to the ground in a heavy pant every ten feet or so when they tried to take him anywhere.”
“Wow.” Mason balanced on his heels in front of Orzo’s kennel and let his fingers get a strong licking.
When he was finished, she introduced him to a few others that had captured her heart and wouldn’t let go, including Clara Bee, a friendly and eager-to-please four-year-old yellow Lab who had been rescued from the throes of a puppy mill.
“Of all the dogs here, my heart goes out to her the most.” Clara Bee was in one of the largest kennels the shelter had. After the eager Lab had a good sniff of Mason and was wagging her tail so heavily that the entire back half of her body wagged along in anticipation, Tess opened the door and motioned Mason to join her.
Clara Bee didn’t mind sharing her spacious kennel one bit. The sweet girl circled around them, nuzzling their hands and leaning heavily against Tess’s leg. Tess stroked a silky ear as Clara Bee pumped her tail. “One of our volunteers was turkey hunting a couple hours south of here and got lost. He stumbled onto private property and found five adult dogs and a few unsold pups living in unhealthy conditions. He worked with authorities to get the place shut down immediately, and he even got most of the dogs taken straight into foster care.
“Clara Bee’s living conditions were the worst of the bunch. She barely had space to move, and her hips were a mess. No one knows how many litters she had, but it was too many, too soon. She wasn’t in shape to go into a private home, so she came here. She’s had two surgeries, and she’s doing great. She spends a lot of the day standing of her own will, and her daily walks are getting longer and longer.” Mindful of her surgery scars, Tess gently patted Clara Bee’s right hip. “This foot still drags when she gets tired, but I’ve seen a huge difference since I first met her nearly a month ago.”
“Wow.” Mason shook his head. “It’s not right that someone could do that.”
“It isn’t, but thankfully, she and all the Labs who lived with her will get to finish out their lives in loving families. And it was touching to see how many people came forward to donate money for her surgeries. The real miracle is how tame and loving she’s gotten in just a few months. Considering the tiny space she was allotted and its condition, it’s unlikely she had any positive contact with people before she was rescued. She was extremely timid at first, but she’s really begun to bond with the staff and volunteers. She will even play with people in the play yard. I’m not going to lie: every time I see that, I tear up.”
Mason sank to a squat and let Clara Bee lick his nose and chin. When her purple tongue swiped across the stubble covering his chin, Tess repressed an urge to reach out and brush her fingertips across it as well.
“Was Clara Bee her name when she came here?”
“No, she didn’t have a name that we know of. Everyone who donated money for her first surgery got to suggest a name. Then, on the day of her surgery, her name was chosen by Facebook vote. Clara Bee is short for Clara Barton, who—in case you don’t remember—started the Red Cross and was active in the women’s suffrage movement. The name won by a landslide. I think people felt like it was a way to give our sweet girl back some of her power.”
When Mason didn’t respond but kept quiet, stroking Clara Bee’s neck and scruff, Tess suspected he needed a bit of quiet to recover. After a full minute passed, Mason patted the happy dog on the side and stood up.
Tess stepped out first and was searching for a less-heavy shelter story when she thought of the Savannah cat.
“Oh, do you still want to see the Savannah cat?” Before she’d gotten in Mason’s truck, she’d warned him how she’d had a close encounter with a skunked cat and could smell nothing aside from the skunk scent circulating through her nostrils. She made him promise to let her know if the smell was still hanging out on her body as well. When she’d tried to describe the unusual breed of cat that had caused this afternoon’s commotion, Mason had admitted he’d never heard of it.
As soon as Tess opened the door to quarantine, Mason arched backward, fanning his nose. Tess had clearly become desensitized because the room didn’t seem to smell any different from every other breath she’d taken since bathing the cat.
Judging by Mason’s reaction, it seemed the poor kitty was going to need another bath or two before he was fully rid of the smell. “You weren’t kidding.” He whistled softly. “You’re brave to have tackled bathing him.”
“I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to smell anything for a week at least. But I feel confident saying that if your eyes don’t begin to water and you don’t grow nauseated and develop a splitting headache in the next few minutes, he smelled worse when he came in.”
Mason shook his head, chuckling. He scanned the mostly empty crates, and his eyebrows arched when he spotted the Savannah cat. “Wow.”
“He’s remarkable, isn’t he?”
Even though the cat was cowering in a far corner, his large size and cheetah-like markings were striking. “Yes, he is. I’m not sure what I’d think if I’d spotted him on the street.”
Noticing that the cat’s ears were flat and his tail tucked, Tess stayed several feet from the cages. Neither of the two dogs in quarantine was happy to see the visitors either. Not yet, at least. Tess was confident the kind and loving treatment they were given would soon warm all three of their timid spirits.
“Hopefully, by the time he’s out of quarantine, he won’t smell. I can give you a proper introduction then.”
As soon as the words were out, a wave of vulnerability slid over Tess. It was a big assumption to declare so openly that she’d be seeing Mason again.
“I’d love that.” His fingertips brushed over the small of her back as he followed her out.
The rush it gave her swept all the way into her toes.
“So, like I said, I could spend all night talking to you about these guys, but they’re safe and on the road to healthy, happy lives. I’ll grab that catch pole, and we’ll focus on finding someone who probably needs us more than he knows.”