“I nearly choked on my Fruit Loops when I found that first video,” I admitted as I parked.
Inside, the cats were all in large cages in the front, while I could hear the dogs in kennels down the hall. I‘d known it was going to be difficult to choose, but peering in at all those fuzzy faces, I wished we could take every one of them home. Some never came to the front of the cage, others got curious, checked us out, and wandered back to the toys. A few of the cats even hissed when we tried to talk to them, despite Payden’s patient coos.
When we moved on to the dog kennels, there were several small, yippy ones near the front who whirled in circles, alerting the rest of the kennel to our presence. Then I spotted one out of the corner of my eye, gray with a black spot over one eye, curled up on a bed on the floor of the kennel, watching us. I tapped Payden on the shoulder, pulling his attention away from a pair of Chihuahuas who were trying to bark down the moon one high pitched yip at a time, and led him over to where the dog lay, tailcautiously thumping on the pillow. It was only when we knelt in front of the cage that I noticed the dog wasn’t alone.
I had no idea what kind he was, but his thick fur was flecked with speckles of black and dark gray. Between his paws was a cat who watched us warily.
“Our vet thinks he has some Australian Shepherd mixed into his bloodline,” the volunteer said. “So, we call him Oz.”
“Whose his friend?” Payden asked.
“We call him Ghost, because he’s next to impossible to spot when he’s curled up next to Oz. They came in together, already a bonded pair, they were neutered when they arrived and unfortunately, there hasn’t been anyone willing to take them in so they can stay together.”
“Until now,” I blurted at the same time as Payden announced “We will!”
“Would you like me to bring them to one of our cubicles so you can spend time with them?” She asked.
“Yes, please,” I said though I already knew they’d be leaving here today with us.
Something about them had called to me the moment I’d spotted Oz laying there.
“They need us,” Payden declared after the volunteer had left us alone.
“I agree. I wonder how old they are?”
“They’ll have files on them, the vet does his best to estimate every animal’s age on their intake sheets. I can’t wait to pet them.”
“You’re not the only one excited,” I said, squeezing his hand.
When the volunteer returned, she had Ghost in a pet carrier and Oz on a leash. He didn’t tug or pull when she opened the door, he just stepped in, cautiously snipping, fluffy tail hesitantly wagging when he spotted us.
“Hey boy,” I said, waiting for her to free Ghost from the cage and unclip the leash.
Ghost shot straight for Oz and hid under him, so Payden and I scooted closer once our volunteer had left, talking to them until Oz’s tail sent fluff in the air, he wagged it so hard when he was finally ready for us to pet him.
A tiny pink and black nose peaked out, followed by whiskers and a fat, fluffy face.
Meow?
“Hey Ghost,” Payden cooed, “Come on out fluffy boy so we can pet you too.”
His mews were softer than I’d expected from a cat his size, or maybe he was just scared.
“Here kitty,” I called. “Ghost, come on Ghost.”
Even while I spoke to him, I kept one hand on Oz, petting, rubbing his ears, his wet nose making me chuckle when he pressed it against my neck and huffed. Payden kept inching his fingers closer to Ghost, who finally emerged from beneath Oz to sniff them.
A sniff turned into a nudge, but the moment Payden petted him he ran right back underneath Oz.
Definitely skittish. We’d need to move slowly around him until he got used to us. I filed out the paperwork in both of our names while Payden stayed with them until it was time to go. Driving home that afternoon, with two new additions to our household, all I felt was grateful to finally have a family of my own.
“See those grill lines, that’s how you know when it’s time to turn them,” Callen explained as we manned the new barbeque he’d helped me set up on the patio.
He’d helped me pick it out too, which had been an experience in and of itself, when the only ones I was intimately familiar with were the ones my bandmates and I had encountered in campgrounds. The ones Callen and I looked at had been anything but pockmarked and bent.
“Thanks,” I replied and started flipping the meat.
The skills I was already learning from him were beyond priceless, and I didn’t just mean the way he coached me at the grill or helped me design the patio space we were sitting on now. Payden was playing fetch with Oz on the lawn beside the jungle gym we’d had installed. My boy loved to climb and jump, so it had a small climbing wall on one side, and a chain and plank bridge that ended with a short slide into the ball pit. Every time one of the balls flew out, Oz raced after it and brought it back with a doggy grin before he laid down and waited for Payden to send another one sailing through the air.
