Junebug Farms no-kill animal shelter was one of Mia Sorenson’s favorite places in the whole wide world. She was a lover of animals—especially dogs—but her late husband had been severely allergic. So her son, Kevin, had never been able to have a dog growing up, much to his and Mia’s grave disappointment. To make up for it, though, she had gotten him familiar with the shelter, and they’d volunteered all the time, walking the dogs, helping with fundraising—Kevin had even worked there part-time when he’d been going to the local community college. And long after Mia had lost both her husband and her son, she’d continued to show up at Junebug Farms because the dogs needed to see friendly faces. That’s how she looked at it. Spending your days in a small kennel had to be hard, especially for the ones who’d been abandoned by their families. Mia struggled with that scenario and always did her best to lavish those dogs with a little extra love.
That Saturday was brisk. The weather had gone from pleasantly cool to much closer to cold, a typical fall day in upstate New York. The sky was a dull gray, and there was a mist in the air that seemed almost like it was hanging there, rather than actually falling to the ground. They were going to have to wipe down the dogs after they walked.
She pulled into the parking lot and immediately saw Francie and Angelo walking together toward the front door. Beth was likely inside because she was always early. Carmen was likely not here yet because she was always late. Mia gathered her purse and bag and headed inside.
The cacophony of endless barking was something she’d never get used to. It was the first thing that hit when you walked through the front doors of Junebug Farms, even though the dogs were off in their own wing. But it was fall now, and the shelter was almost filled to capacity—never a good thing for an animal shelter. The endless barking and the jab to her heart. Those were the things she’d never get used to. While she was endlessly grateful that Junebug was no-kill, it didn’t make it any easier to see row after row of abandoned dogs sitting behind cage doors, wanting nothing more than some attention and to be loved.
There were days when it broke her heart.
But Mia Sorenson was also grateful for those days, because they reminded her that she was alive. At eighty years old, she needed as many of those reminders as she could get, and if they came from dogs rather than people, so be it.
She waved to the two women behind the horseshoe-shaped front desk. They waved back because she was a fixture here, and she continued on to the volunteer break room toward the back of the lobby.
“Good morning, friends,” she said in a cheerful, singsong voice. “It’s a beautiful day.”
Angelo’s laugh was big and deep and throaty, which always came as a surprise to Mia, given that he was not a big man at all. “You say that every day, Mia,” he said, affection lining his tone.
“Not sure if you noticed,” Francie added, “but it’s raining out. And it’s cold.”
Leave it to Francie to pick out all the negatives. Mia managed not to roll her eyes. “I say it every day because it’s true. Every day I wake up is a beautiful day.”
Angelo nodded, and they were saved from any more debate over whether or not the day was beautiful by Beth’s arrival.
“Happy Saturday, my walking friends,” she said, almost as cheerful as Mia had been. Mia loved that about her. “I come bearing gifts.” She held up a box from Dunkin’.
“Ah, sustenance,” Angelo said, taking the box from her and setting it on the round table in the middle of the break room. He wasted no time opening it and helping himself to the raspberry jelly doughnut, which they all knew was his favorite, and whosever turn it was to bring the doughnuts knew to grab at least two of that variety.
“Good morning to my favorite walkers.”
Mia turned to meet the smiling face of Lisa, the adoption and intake manager at Junebug. She was tall and pretty with short, light hair and serious eyes, and today, there seemed to be a shadow of something else as well. Worry? Concern? Mia wasn’t sure.
“What are you doing here on a Saturday, Lisa?” Mia asked.
“Big emergency intake last night,” Lisa said, and her serious expression grew even more so. “Everybody was called in. Hoarding situation. We’ve got some very scared pups back there, so I’m hoping you guys can give them some extra attention and love. Baths, walks, hugs, whatever you can spare.”
Something Mia admired about Lisa was that she never seemed to grow cold or unfeeling around the animals. Mia knew that she’d been doing this job for a long time, and it would make sense if she’d become numb or burned out. But she wasn’t. Yes, she was a generally serious person, but Mia had also seen her eyes filled with unshed tears over a situation or a particular animal that touched her heart. All of Junebug’s employees were like that.
“Attention and love are why we’re here,” Mia said, forcing extra cheer into her tone. “Right, guys?”
The others nodded, their expressions taking on a mix of Lisa’s seriousness and Mia’s exuberance.
For the next couple of hours, they walked. They’d each choose a dog, leash them up, and take them for a little jaunt around the Junebug grounds, which were sizable. The mist had let up, but the chill had also increased, and Mia pulled her coat more tightly around herself as she walked a cute little Pomeranian mix, his curly tail swishing back and forth as he moved along.
The grounds of Junebug Farms were surprisingly large. The main building that housed the dogs and cats up for adoption wasn’t the only one and they weren’t the only animals. To the right of the main building was a smaller goat house, which, as the name implied, housed goats. It was also set up so visitors could feed and pet them if they wanted. To the left of the main building, a few hundred yards away, was the barn. There lived the farm animals that had been rescued or surrendered. Horses of all sizes, donkeys, pigs, cows, you name it, Junebug had at least a couple. Seeing the sadness on the faces of those animals—the pigs and cows especially—had been the catalyst for Mia to stop eating meat, nearly forty years ago now. Many of her friends didn’t get it. They thought she was silly because People have always eaten meat!, or they mistakenly thought the end of the animal meat industry would cripple the whole of the American economy, so she didn’t talk about it. She never pushed her plant-based views on other people. She just did what felt right for her, and she was much happier that way. There was simply no way she could pet a cow—one of the gentlest creatures she’d ever met—look into its eyes, and then go order a burger. No way.
She and her Pomeranian walked along with Angelo and his beagle mix. “This guy could use some leash walking lessons,” he muttered as the beagle left absolutely zero slack in the leash.
Mia laughed softly. “Wanna switch?”
“Nah.” Angelo smiled his thanks at her. “He’s just excited to be out of his kennel.”
He was right, Mia knew. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Absolutely, I would.”
They followed the trail toward the barn while Beth and her German shepherd had gone the opposite direction, and Francie and Carmen—who’d finally showed up—took their walkers across the street to the nature trail. Angelo was her favorite walking companion of the bunch, though she loved them all.
“So? How are you? Doing all right?”
Angelo nodded, his soft blue eyes gazing off into the distance. “Yeah. I’m okay. The holidays are coming. That’s always hard.”
Mia nodded, remembering her first few holidays after her husband Bob had passed, then again years later when she’d lost Kevin. “They do get easier. They’re never easy, but they do get easier.”
“That’s what people keep telling me.” They stopped so the beagle could sniff a bush. “It’ll be two years in November that Tim’s been gone. Honestly, Mia, it feels like yesterday and also feels like forever, and I’m not sure how that’s possible.”
“Oh, I so understand that, and I’ve got no explanation.” She smiled at him, hoping to soften his suffering a bit. “How long were you together again?”
“Twenty-seven years.”
“Ah. Long time. Bob and I made it to our fortieth anniversary before he passed.”
“Oh wow. I’m sorry.” They followed the trail around the barn until they were headed back in the direction they’d come.
“Thank you. It took a while, but I finally got to a point where, instead of being angry that we didn’t have more time together, I’m grateful to have had the time we did.”
Angelo nodded, and Mia saw his throat move once, twice, and knew a subject change was in order.
“What about a dog? Or a cat? Have you thought of that? Adopting something to keep you company?”
There was a smile. Finally! Angelo grinned at her. “I actually have been thinking about that. Tim and I lost both our cats just before he got sick. And then it was just too much to think about bringing another pet into the house with all he was going through.”
“Sure.”
“But now…I might be ready.”
Mia reached out and stroked a hand down his arm as she smiled up at him. “That’s terrific, Ang.”
“God knows I could use something to focus on. Maybe get me off the couch.” He glanced at her. “Hey, how come you don’t have a pet?”
Mia sighed as they approached the back of the main building. “I am honestly so busy.” She shook her head. “I’d love a dog. I really would. But I am out almost every night of the week. I’d adopt a dog just to leave him cooped up in my house, which isn’t fair.”
Angelo gave her a skeptical look, and it made her laugh.
“I know, I know.”
“You should think about it,” he said as he held the door for her. “Any pet would be lucky to have you. And you live with your daughter-in-law, right? Wouldn’t she be able to help?”
Their conversation was interrupted by Beth, who was headed back into the building at the same time they were. “Well, this girl is a dream,” she said, referring to the German shepherd she’d walked. “What a sweetheart.” Unlike Angelo or Mia, Beth had already adopted three dogs over the past two years they’d all been walking together.
“Gonna add her to your crew?” Mia asked with a knowing grin.
“Do not tempt me, ma’am,” Beth said on a laugh.
“You have the space,” Mia reminded her, referring to Beth’s fifteen acres she shared with her husband.
“What did I just say about tempting me? My husband would kill me.” But there was a sparkle in her eye, and they all knew her husband would be just fine. He always was.
Mia wanted to use the restroom before taking another dog out for a walk, so she headed down the hall. On the way, she passed Jessica Barstow’s office. Jessica had inherited Junebug Farms from her grandmother, and she took great pride in the shelter, in its purpose, its mission, its residents. Mia had known her since Jessica’s grandmother had run things and Jessica was just a teenager. Then Jessica took over and Mia kept coming, and despite Jessica being just a little bit older than Sammi, they’d hit it off and become instant friends. Which was why Mia could tell just by taking a quick glance into the office at Jessica that something was wrong. Normally a woman of action, a person who rarely stopped moving once she was inside the building, Jessica instead sat at her desk staring off into space, nibbling on her bottom lip.
Taking a detour from her trip to the restroom, Mia stopped at Jessica’s door and rapped on the frame. “Knock, knock.”
The sound seemed to startle Jessica, judging by the way she flinched slightly. When she met Mia’s gaze, she smiled. “Hey, Mia. How are you?”
“Better than you, apparently. Everything okay?”
Jessica furrowed her brow and looked like she was trying hard to pretend to be surprised by Mia’s words. “What do you mean? Everything’s fine.”
Mia arched an eyebrow and tipped her head to the side. She didn’t have to wait long.
Jessica sighed. “I hate that you can read me so well.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mia stepped into the office. “Everything okay with Sydney?”
“She’s great. Deserves a wife who doesn’t work quite so much, but…”
“She knew what she was getting into when she married you,” Mia finished, smiling.
“She did.” Jessica held Mia’s gaze for a long moment before sighing again. “We lost some state funding. Like, a lot of it.”
“Oh no.”
“I mean, it’s not the end of the world, but we’re gonna need to do an extra fundraising campaign or two. Or seven. Ugh.”
“Then that’s what you do, right?”
“Yeah. I guess. Our donors are already so generous. I hate going I know you guys give us a ton of money, but…could you give some more?”
Mia leaned on her hands so she was a bit closer to Jessica as she spoke. “You listen to me. Nobody donates to Junebug Farms because they feel forced. Nobody. Your donors love this place, and if you need more help, those are the people you ask for it. Anybody who can help will. Happily.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” She said it on a small sigh and didn’t look all that convinced, but then she added, “We have a great fundraising expert who’s helping us with some really fun ideas.”
“Oh yeah? Can you tell me?”
Jessica snort-laughed. “Mia. Please. I tell you things I don’t tell my wife.” At Mia’s feigned gasp of horror, she laughed and said, “Okay, that’s not entirely true. But I would.” As Mia laughed softly, she went on. “We’re going to take nominations for a king and queen of the farm at Barktoberfest. People will be able to nominate their loved ones. Or themselves. Whatever. It’s pretty informal. Then we’re going to tally up the winners in a couple of weeks. We’ll send those two on a bunch of holiday-themed errands, to some holiday events, and then put them on our Christmas parade float, always with some of our adoptable dogs. We’ll post on social media and maybe get some local news coverage and”—she pressed her lips together in a thin line for a moment—“hopefully, it’ll bring in some donations.” She met Mia’s gaze. “The shelter’s been full for months now, thanks to all the people who adopted pets during the pandemic and then decided they didn’t have time for them once they went back to work. We really need some help, Mia. We’re struggling here.”
Mia gave Jessica a smile and reassured her some more, but she spent the rest of the day worrying. Junebug Farms did so much good, and the idea of things being uncertain didn’t sit well with her.
She was talking to Beth about it a little later, after the other walkers had headed home.
“These are the times I wish I was a wealthy woman,” she said, as she and Beth walked along toward the barn, each of them with a shelter dog on a leash.
“Just these times?” Beth asked with a grin. “I wish that all the time.”
“You know what I mean,” Mia said with a smile as her dog—a Lab mix—stopped to pee on a tree. “I’d give them so much money, they’d put a wing on the main building and name it after me.”
“I honestly don’t know how Jessica does it.” Beth’s voice grew serious. “I mean, I know there are people who surrender their animals because they have no other choice. I do understand that. It’s the people who are just too lazy to put in the work that I’d have a hard time with.” She shook her head as they walked. “I don’t know how she doesn’t punch each of them right in the face. I would.”
“Me too.”
Mia’s worry went into her evening, and it was still sitting with her when she went to bed that night. It was her curse: People, places, and things she cared about earned her worry. There wasn’t much she could do, she knew that. Spread the word, volunteer her time, give money when she could. She sighed heavily as she rolled onto her side.
It just didn’t seem like enough.