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Ears laid flat, he hisses and I scoop him up. “This is why I can’t let you roam free. You’re mean to the other animals,” I whisper, nuzzling his head. “One of these days you’ll learn that there are perks to playing nice.”
I’ve tried letting Pickles roam around Animal Haven the way Ruby does. My hope was that he’d get along with the other animals and I could make him a resident pet. Unfortunately, he failed each and every test. Not only does Pickles hiss and spit at every dog he sees, he doesn’t seem particularly fond of the other cats either.
I set Pickles down next to his food bowl and rub his head. “Eat.”
He plops down in front of his bowl. Craning his neck to the side, he sticks out his tongue and manages to snag a bite of food.
“Ruby, that’s what we call lazy.”
“Woof.”
Using my knee, I nudge Ruby out of the way and shut the door to the cage, making sure it’s locked before I turn away.
“Come on. One animal down, twelve more to go.”
The closest humane society is over an hour away in Houston which makes Animal Haven the go-to when there’s a stray or rescue animal. On average, we house anywhere from twenty to thirty animals although the facility is built to hold many more. A great turn out at the last adoption fair left us with the lowest census I’ve seen in a long time. Oddly enough, a lower number of mouths to feed doesn’t make my job easier.
With Ruby by my side I let the friendly, well-adjusted animals into the fenced in yard to play. The grumpy ones aren’t so lucky. They remain separated and I go from pen to pen giving each of them one on one attention.
“Mo?”
“Yeah?” I look up when Tess walks in.
“You’ve got someone here to see you.”
Monroe
Squirting sanitizer on my hands, I plaster on my best smile and pray I don’t have animal feces visible on my clothes. There’s a man standing at the edge of the drive talking to Tess. When I come around the corner, he looks up.
“You must be Monroe. I’m Jerry.”
I take his offered hand for a quick shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Jerry. What can I do for you? Are you looking to adopt a dog, because I’ve got several ready for a forever home?”
The pudgy man shakes his head. “Oh, no, quite the opposite.” He takes a step back and turns for his car. “I’m here to drop one off.” Jerry opens his back door and pulls out a large bird cage with a blanket draped over the top. “My father passed away a few weeks ago and left me his bird.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”
“I appreciate that. It was expected so we were as prepared as we could be.”
I smile and nod, unsure of how to respond. “Are you here because you need to learn more about caring for your bird? I’ve got some great reference books you could borrow.”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want the bird.”
My eyes widen. “You don’t?”
“My father was crazy and his bird is even crazier. Quite frankly, I don’t have the time or patience to deal with the darn thing. I was told you take animals.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Perfect.” Jerry sets the cage at my feet and grabs a giant bag out of the back of his car. “Here’s all of his stuff—food, toys, and I tossed in a picture of my dad.”
“Why would I need a picture of your dad?”
“I don’t know, I just thought he might like looking at it from time to time.”
“Oh, okay, so—”
“So that’s it,” he interrupts. “That’s everything.”
