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Poppy took another bite from her slice of pizza and grinned. This was what Wagging Tails was all about, community, the coming together of like-minded people for the greater good. It sounded deep, but it was true. Each and every person here, staff members and volunteers alike, turned up each day or once or twice a week to give their time to the dogs. She’d missed this feeling of belonging.
The cheerful ringtone of the landline filtered in from the reception area and Poppy watched as Alex laid his slice of pizza back in the box and disappeared out of the room.
‘Are you all right, lovely?’ Flora said, passing her a piece of cake.
‘Yes, I’m good, thanks.’ Poppy took a bite of the cake, the moist sponge dispersing a burst of lemon across her tastebuds.
When Alex came back into the room, he clapped his hands and waited for silence. ‘Sorry to break up the party, but that was Mr Thomas on the phone. He’s letting us take four of his dogs if we can collect them tonight.’
‘Really?’ Pushing her chair away from the table, Ginny stood up.
‘Quick, let’s go before he changes his mind again.’ Flora put the cake slices she was carrying down and glanced around the room. ‘The rest of you stay, eat and enjoy. We’re off to rescue some dogs!’
Standing up, Poppy followed her aunt through to the reception area. ‘Can I come and help?’
‘Yes, of course, lovely.’ Flora shrugged into her coat before passing Poppy’s to her.
* * *
Poppy placed the last of four feeding bowls on the floor and watched as the fourth and youngest dog wolfed down the meat. She looked around the kitchen; Aunt Flora was busy making coffee, Alex was slumped at the table with his head in his hands and Susan was sitting next to her partner, Malcolm, his arms around her and her head leaning on his shoulder, while Percy shook out biscuits onto a plate.
‘Here we go, coffees for everyone. I think we deserve it.’ Flora sunk into a chair. ‘Come and take a seat, Poppy, lovely.’
Nodding, Poppy put the now empty feeding bowls in the sink before taking a seat next to her aunt.
‘Here you go. Get that down you.’ Flora passed Poppy a mug.
‘Thanks.’ Inhaling the hot bittersweet aroma of the coffee, Poppy watched as the four dogs made themselves comfortable on the duvets Susan had laid down for them.
‘We’ll let their food go down and then take them out for a quick walk in case they need to toilet before taking them to their kennel.’ Flora looked around the room. ‘Thank you all for coming with us to Mr Thomas’s and helping get these four sweeties. And thank you, Malcolm, for staying behind after the dinner and tidying up.’
‘No problem. Glad to have been able to help in my own small way.’ Malcolm twisted his bow tie straight before rubbing Susan’s back. ‘What was Mr Thomas’s house like? Was it as bad as it was last time you were allowed in or had he tidied up a bit?’
‘Worse.’ Alex raised his arms above his head and yawned. ‘It didn’t look as though he’d let the dogs, or the cats, out for days and he definitely hadn’t been cleaning up properly after them.’
Malcom raised his eyebrows. ‘Was it really that bad?’
Susan nodded, her head still resting on Malcom’s shoulder. ‘It was. But he’s providing them with food, water and shelter so we can still only encourage him to give them up on his own terms.’
‘Yes, poor Mr Thomas. The sooner he allows us to rehome them all, the better it will be for his health as well as his animals.’ Flora glanced down into her coffee. ‘You’re all welcome to get off home. It’s late.’
Poppy glanced at the clock. It was half past one in the morning. She hadn’t realised how long they’d been at Mr Thomas’s for. When they’d arrived, as expected, he’d changed his mind about letting them take the dogs, so Flora had spent a lot of time trying to reason with him. It had only been once he’d finally allowed them into the house that they’d realised the extent of the issue and thanks to Aunt Flora and her incredible negotiating skills, he’d eventually relented. After he’d managed to choose which dogs to relinquish, Flora had spotted a small whippet, Eden, whimpering in the corner. On closer inspection, they’d realised the dog must have been involved in a scrap with another dog and her leg had been seriously bitten. Another hour later and Mr Thomas had also agreed that they could take the whippet to the vet’s in addition to the other dogs. And although Mr Thomas had insisted they return the whippet when the leg had healed, time would tell if Aunt Flora could talk him round to the idea of them being allowed to rehome the poor little thing.
‘I’m staying until Ginny gets back from the vet’s,’ Alex said, holding his hand up.
‘Yep, we will too. I need to know if that beautiful whippet is okay.’ Susan rubbed Malcom’s hand.
‘Me too.’ Poppy looked down into her coffee. She dreaded to think how much Mack would charge them for seeing Eden out of hours.
Flora nodded. ‘Okay, if you’re sure. I’m so pleased he allowed us to take her. Even if it did take some persuading.’
‘I didn’t think he was going to,’ Alex said as he leaned his forehead against the tabletop.
‘Oh, I was optimistic. Mr Thomas loves those dogs, which is why he’s finding it so difficult to realise that he can no longer care for them as he used to.’ Flora bent down and fussed over one of the Labradors they had been allowed to take.
Pushing her chair back, Poppy stood up. ‘I’m going to go and check on Dougal.’
‘Okay, lovely.’ Flora patted her arm before turning back to her coffee.
