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“For a man who thinks she’s just okay, you seem pretty despondent. But none of my business, really. Carry on.” With that, she whisks herself off to the cat room, leaving me standing with the tiny dog, grimacing. She’s right. I am embarrassingly despondent. And I hate that I’m despondent. What the hell is wrong with me?
At that, Chopper decides he can’t wait to get outside to the grass, peeing all down the front of me. Peeing all over my expensive jeans I wore to impress a woman who isn’t even here.
“Great,” I mutter, exhaling as the dog licks my face, his butt wiggling in happiness.
At least someone is having a good day.
* * *
I’m finishingup some filing in the office when I hear the door fly open. An old man hobbles in, leaning heavily on a cane. He’s wearing a fedora and thick glasses. A cigar hangs from his mouth.
“We’re closing soon, sir,” I say, looking up from the folder in my hand.
“Got something for you,” he murmurs, his voice gruff.
Shit. An intake right before closing. Not the kind of depressing note I want to leave on. I hate seeing animals come in.
“We have a form for a surrender you’ll have to fill out,” I say, rifling through the other folder where the forms are.
“I’m not surrendering anything. It’s something I found. A stray, I guess. Weird, though. The thing must be sick or something.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Cat. Sick cat. No hair.”
At this, I freeze. “Did you say no hair?”
“You need a hearing aid, boy? I said no hair. Now are you going to come get the mangey thing or what? Found it scavenging in my garbage can behind my house. Thought it was a coon at first. I always hated cats, to tell you the truth. But decided to do a good deed and drive it down here. At my age, you need all the heaven points you can get. Now come get it before it pukes in my car or something.”
I can hardly believe it as I follow him to his station wagon. I peer in the backseat window, where a box sits. Inside, a tan hairless cat with a blue collar lets out a meow.
Monticello.
“Monticello! Hey, thanks, buddy. Thanks a ton,” I say, reaching out a hand toward the guy. He groans, climbs into his car, and tosses the cane on the passenger seat.
“Good luck,” he says as I open the back door to grab the box, careful not to stir Monticello too much. The old guy is backing out before I’m even back in the gate to the shelter.
“Hey, buddy. Where have you been? Oh, this is good luck.” I wander inside as Janice emerges from the cat room.
“What do you have there?” she asks as I approach the counter, putting the box down.
She looks inside. “Oh my, is that…?”
“Monticello. Sage’s Monticello,” I say, beaming.
She smiles. “Oh, thank God. She’s going to be so relieved.
“Can you call her?” I ask, knowing she needs to know right away. I know I’d want to know immediately if this were Killer.
“No,” she says, smiling. “You can just take him to her.”
“Me? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, tossing the idea around in my head. Won’t it be weird for me to show up? I don’t want her thinking I’m super creepy or odd.
Although, showing up with her beloved cat at her condo might not be such a bad idea. The gratitude, the appreciation—there’s no way she’s choosing a cup of coffee to celebrate.
“It’s a perfect idea. Here, I’ll give you her exact address. Now get going, there’s no time to waste. This cat means so much to her, and I think she’ll be super excited to see him. And you.”
“Janice….” I shoot her a pointed look.
