by Debbie Burns
The eyesore of a kitchen stood apart from the rest of the remarkable old home. It looked to have been rehabbed last in the late sixties. Even if the retro look was in, the cabinets, countertops, and appliances were too dated to ever be considered in style. Not that he was one to care about style.
He was taking in the chipped, sky-blue cabinets and matching rust-covered appliances when a massive gray tabby cat pushed in through a pet door in the door leading to the backyard. The cat was huge and had silky, somewhat unkempt fur and the longest tail Kurt had ever seen. The feline eyed the group and hissed, then hopped up onto the counter, twitching its impressive tail.
“This is Mr. Longtail,” Kelsey said, still making eye contact with everyone but Kurt. “He’s the reason this estate was willed to us. His owner didn’t have any family to take the house, and she didn’t want him relocated, so she left the house to us on the condition that we care for him here until he passes away.”
“I wondered why an animal shelter owned a high-maintenance old place like this and had it just sitting empty,” Kurt said.
“We’ve only owned it about eight months,” Kelsey answered, holding his gaze for a second or two. “Once or twice we’ve considered bringing a few overflow animals here, but dividing the staff never made sense. Until now, anyway. Eventually, when Mr. Longtail is gone, the house will be sold, and we’re hoping to use the money to expand on the north side of our building. We’ll name it in Sabrina Raven’s honor.”
“So it’s just been him and this old house for the last eight months?”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t like people much, so I’m not sure that he minds. If you leave him alone, he won’t bite.”
“How’s he like dogs?” Rob asked, chuckling.
“Probably not any more than he likes people, but as long as they’re on leashes and can’t hurt him, he’ll be fine.”
“I have a feeling he’ll be putting them all in their place fast enough, with an attitude like he seems to have,” Rob added. “And he still has claws, right?”
“Yes, but he likes to use them on the last of the wallpaper that’s still hanging and not on the mice taking over the house.”
Kurt headed to the aged, yellow Formica countertop and held up a finger a few inches in front of the cat, allowing the undaunted animal a chance for a sniff.
Mr. Longtail smelled Kurt’s finger for several seconds, then rubbed his cheek hard against it, twitching his tail like a whip.
“Maybe he just needs someone to understand him,” Kurt said. He wasn’t a cat person, but this cat was different. He could stand up to a room full of strangers and remind them that this was his house and would still be once this rehab was over. At the very least, the animal was worthy of Kurt’s respect. And he had an odd feeling that, like the house, the cat had an intentional place in his life. For the time being, at least.
“What is it you think he wants us to understand?” Megan, the pregnant supervisor, asked. Her tone was without sarcasm. “Because we’ve certainly not gotten the message. Kelsey’s tried every way she can think of to befriend him, but it hasn’t worked. Sabrina Raven sure loved him though.”
“I can’t say,” Kurt replied. “Cats don’t communicate like dogs. They’re solitary hunters by nature. I suspect we’ll figure each other out soon enough, considering we’ll be roommates the next few months.”
“Well, if you figure it out, let us know. It’ll make caring for him easier, won’t it, Kels?”
If Kelsey heard her, she didn’t show it. She was suddenly looking right at Kurt for the first time since he’d gotten out of the car. Her head was cocked sideways. “You’re…you’re staying? It’s you who’s doing the retraining?”
So Rob hadn’t told her. Kurt actually felt her surprise, picking up on the insecurity and heat that rushed over her the same way he picked up on fear. He hadn’t counted on how her feelings might affect him when he’d made the decision to come here.
He could handle his own feelings; he’d become a master at that over the last eight years. But something told him hers wouldn’t be as easy to dismiss.
This knowledge unnerved him more than anything else had since leaving the jungles of Honduras.
“Yeah,” he said, cocooning himself in the sarcasm he could always call on. “Figured I couldn’t handle the guilt if the next report I saw on this story was about how half these dogs had gone missing and you were nowhere to be found. That wouldn’t get any of these guys new homes, would it?”
His comment had the effect he’d hoped for. Settled that wildly beating heart of hers and sent a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. What he hadn’t counted on was how big of an ass he’d feel like for embarrassing her like that.
He swallowed back a sigh of regret as the rest of the group suddenly looked everywhere but at the two of them. One thing was for sure: it was going to be an unprecedented few months.
Chapter 6
Thank goodness for the entourage of crates piling into the mansion. The dogs took precedence over Kelsey’s newfound apprehension. Eventually, things would settle down and the fact that she’d be working intimately with Kurt would be catapulted into the forefront of her thoughts again, but for a few hours, she could focus on the dogs.
As crates began filling the old house, Kelsey started noticing little details about the place she’d not paid attention to before. Like the fact that the ceilings were nearly as tall as most of the rooms on the main floor were wide. The rooms led into one another through wide doorways and had always felt more spacious—uh, more like looming—than they actually were. The presence of the dogs warmed the rooms and melted away the coldness she’d felt here with only Mr. Longtail.
The handcrafted molding that lined the ceilings and doors suddenly stood out in comparison to the plastic crates in which the dogs had been transported. At one time, the house really had been a work of art.
Now that the dogs were in, thirty-seven brand-new wire cages were being assembled in various rooms. The cages were a generous donation from a local pet store in response to Kelsey’s interview, and something she was very touched by. They would be roomier than the plastic crates the dogs had been living in the last few days, and the manager of the store had even thrown in comfy bed liners for each dog. These cozy liners were something Kelsey suspected many of the dogs wouldn’t have had in their previous homes. To their owners, they’d been fighting dogs, not pets.
Now it was time to change that.
The crates and bed liners weren’t the only support the shelter had received for the rehab since the story aired. Megan told Kelsey that the shelter’s online PayPal account had received a record number of donations over a single night. People from all over were calling to see how they could help. There’d also been a handful of complaints and questions from concerned viewers, but from what Megan had shared, none of them had been too heated.
After the dogs were inside, it became apparent that only five or six dogs would fit in each room, allowing a bit of distance between cages. Deciding which dogs should be placed in rooms together was like putting together a complicated puzzle. This task was left to Rob and Kurt, while Kelsey and the others assembled the cages. The two men took the dogs out of their crates one at a time and walked them on leashes out to the backyard and then, when they were deemed sufficiently calm, past the other crated dogs. Kelsey was amazed at the way the dogs were immediately reactive to some but not others. Even while busy assembling the cages, she could tell that a handful of the dogs were strongly dominant, though most seemed amazingly relaxed for all they’d been through—in life and in the last few days of being pulled from their homes and everything familiar.
There was a showdown of sorts in the first hour, minutes after Patrick showed up, that left Kelsey breathless. Kurt was walking the giant tan-and-black shepherd mix on a tight, controlled leash. He was the dog who’d been causing the incredible commotion as the vans had pul
led in. He’d stopped barking, but judging by the ruffled hair on the back of his neck and his raised tail, he was anything but relaxed.
At first, everything stayed calm and quiet. Then, out of nowhere, the anxious dog bolted toward one of the crates, yanking Kurt to his knees and snarling at the door. It happened nearly too fast to process, but Kurt was on his feet again in seconds. Somehow, he got the dog to sit at attention. Judging by the giant dog’s tense muscles and gaze that darted back and forth between the crated animal and Kurt, it was begrudgingly.
As soon as the chaotic barking that had erupted throughout the house quieted, Kurt looked her way, his face lined with tension.
“I won’t let him catch me off guard again, but I know a dog who’s going to be a lot of work when I see one. If you’re set on him staying, no one, absolutely no one, handles him until I say so.”
Kelsey nodded. “I’ll make sure of it. Promise.” Beside her, Patrick let out a troubled humph. He drummed his fingers against the pocket on the outer thigh of his cargo pants like he did when he was thinking through something.
Kurt gave a light shake of his head but said nothing further about the dog leaving. Megan used the break in the conversation to excuse herself and leave for the shelter, where a different mountain of work was waiting. While Rob and his guys were polite enough, Kelsey was glad Patrick would be sticking around to keep her company this afternoon. The companionship of her shelter coworkers was immensely comforting in the face of all this upheaval.
Patrick didn’t lose a minute before he dove into cage assembly. Kelsey knew she shouldn’t be surprised when one of his pants pockets held a thin but sturdy pair of wire cutters that snipped through the zip ties securing the unopened cages better than the rusty metal scissors she’d found in a kitchen drawer.
“Nice kennels,” he said, jiggling the snaps in the corner that were meant to hold water bowls snuggly in place. “Some of the dogs may need to adjust to the openness of the wire. The ones who’ve mostly lived in enclosed crates.”
“I thought about that.”
“We can cover them with light blankets if needed.”
“Yeah. We’ll see what they say.” She nodded toward the two guys in the next room, who were deep in conversation about a Rottweiler that Kurt had on a leash.
“You’re in charge of the dogs’ basic care.”
“I guess I am,” Kelsey said, not feeling quite as confident as Patrick sounded. Hearing several of the dogs snap and growl had solidified the knowledge that they’d been trained not to get along with one another. In a ring, at least. Many probably had lived docilely with other dogs in their house.
Kelsey suddenly realized that these dogs had no idea they hadn’t been brought here to fight. This made her want to comfort them all. As she was considering how to do that, Kurt looked directly at her from the adjacent room.
“I think this Rott is pregnant,” he said. “She’s probably not more than three or four weeks along, but I’m betting she is. The vet didn’t catch it, most likely because she’s underweight by fifteen pounds.”
Kelsey stood up from the crate she and Patrick were working on and headed into the next room. With her approval, Rob had brought over a few females who were still due to be spayed. With so many dogs having been confiscated, and some of them in worse shape than others, there was a backup on spaying and neutering. Kelsey had offered that the shelter would pay for the spaying of the few females they were getting who still needed it.
She eyed the dog carefully. She was fairly good at spotting a pregnant dog, but she couldn’t see what Kurt had noticed in the Rottweiler. “How so? She doesn’t look pregnant to me.”
“There isn’t a single male she’s tolerated, and her nipples are a bit pink and swollen.”
Pink, swollen nipples. Of course.
“Want Rob to take her back with him?” he continued, scratching the dog on the back of her neck while she stood obediently alongside him.
“To the warehouse? To go somewhere else?” Kelsey’s shoulders squared defensively.
Kurt let out a soft sigh as if he knew her answer. “That’s what I’d suggest.”
“No way. Who knows where she’d end up. Here we can give her whatever TLC she needs.”
“If you ask me, this op doesn’t need the extra chaos. We have to focus on retraining these dogs. Puppies and pregnant females are a distraction. Added to that, she’s underweight and looks a bit malnourished. Who knows how it could play out.”
“I’ll take care of her. I have a lot of experience getting weight back on dogs.”
“She seems docile enough with people, but if you’re serious, you should know there isn’t a male dog here she likes, and there are twenty-eight of them stuck in crates all around. And most of the female fighters we’ve taken in don’t like other females.”
Kelsey tugged on her earlobe. “Then let’s keep her in a room by herself.”
“We’ve filled all the ones down here, and until the stairs are fixed, the dogs won’t have access to the top floor.”
“There’s the screened-in half of the back porch. It’s September, and the weather’s good. We can keep her out there until we can get her upstairs.”
Kurt pursed his lips and looked at Rob, most likely hoping he’d back him. Rob simply shrugged. “If she’s willing to take on the extra work.”
With a slight shake of his head, Kurt offered the leash in Kelsey’s direction. “Why don’t you take her for a walk around the yard and see how you two get along? And ask your friend to go with you, just in case.”
Kelsey took the leash and had to refrain from jolting backward when their fingers brushed. Her skin prickled as if she’d gotten a shock. Kurt immediately locked his hands around his hips as he stepped back, drawing her attention to his lean torso. It was a really, really nice torso.
“I don’t think I need to remind you to stay on this property. With all the dogs. Until they’ve passed several handling tests.”
She nodded and let the pretty girl sniff her closed hand. Having worked so long around dogs who were mostly mysteries, she’d committed the basics to memory. Always read the dog’s cues when interacting with them for the first time. Stand straight or drop to a squat, never lean over them—it was threatening—and avoid direct eye contact until the dog relaxed. “You don’t. I know. The yard’s plenty big anyway.”
One of his eyebrows rose slightly. “Then I’ll let you get acquainted.”
* * *
“Pepper, definitely Pepper. Don’t you think?” Kelsey looked at Patrick for confirmation. Since most of the dogs’ names weren’t known, finding the right name for each of them was one of Kelsey’s top priorities.
Patrick gave the stocky Rottweiler another once-over before answering. “I think you’re right. Pepper suits her.”
“Then Pepper it is.”
They’d been outside for twenty minutes when Kelsey sank to the ground in a warm patch of sun at the far edge of the front yard, a spot nestled under the yard’s most enormous trees. Kelsey figured they had to be as old as the house.
The Rott had been super laid-back with Kelsey, and Patrick was seeing how she did with him. Most animals seemed to pick up on the fact that he was a bit different. Patrick had Asperger’s. He was brilliant but a bit quirky. Most animals were comfortable around him from the start, though a few were skittish. Pepper seemed fine.
Kelsey crossed her legs and rubbed her calves, enjoying the feel of the grass beneath her. She was wiped out from the intensive cleaning yesterday and from assembling the crates this morning. When the laid-back Rottweiler noticed her on the ground, she pulled Patrick in Kelsey’s direction. The Rott collapsed in the grass alongside Kelsey with a plop. Since Pepper had trusted her enough to sit next to her, Kelsey decided to go with it, even if sitting on the ground beside a powerful dog who might still be wound up from an unstable past wasn’t the most
responsible of ideas.
They sat together for several minutes. Pepper was content to lie still and have her ears rubbed. Her nubbin of a tail wagged contentedly.
Maybe she didn’t have much trust to reestablish with people after all.
Even as underweight as the dog was, Kelsey guessed she was at least eighty pounds. She was thin for a heavyset Rott, but she hadn’t been starved. The vet had put her at about five years old, and by a simple glance at her belly and the two rows of exposed teats, it was clear she’d had at least one litter already. And, unlike many of the dogs, she didn’t have any visible scars.
“Maybe she was only bred and not fought. She seems so trusting of people,” Kelsey said.
“Most breeds that end up in the fighting rings were originally bred to have strong trust in their owners.” Patrick’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Kelsey knew it wasn’t because he didn’t care. He just had difficulty connecting with his emotions. He rarely got upset, but when he did, he immersed himself in a laborious project and didn’t stop until he was physically spent. He was cute with his soft brown eyes and always disheveled hair. He drove her nuts at times with his penchant for routine, but he was one of her favorite people.
“True.” Kelsey let out a sigh and forced thoughts of Pepper’s past out of her mind. Animals were often better than people at living in the present.
Mr. Longtail emerged from a thick hedge at the edge of the yard. He headed toward the group with his tail erect and unusually fluffy. Kelsey shortened the leash that Patrick had passed her way when Pepper sat down. Pepper watched the cat approach with only mild curiosity, as though she’d been around cats before and knew they weren’t prey, which definitely wasn’t something you could say about many dogs.
To Kelsey’s surprise, the cantankerous cat walked right up to the Rottweiler and started to sniff, first the dog’s face, then her paws and down her side. Pepper did nothing more than wag her tail, after glancing Kelsey’s way as if in confirmation that this was okay.