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One
Abbe Jones paced in front of the stained-glass windows of the old, weathered house that served as the heart of Furry Faces Animal Shelter. She looked through the doorway at the posh town of Wellesley just beyond the shelter's doorstep. It was a breathtaking scene, the old oaks and alder trees were ablaze with the first fiery strokes of autumn’s artistry, and it should have filled her with peace. But unfortunately, she was too angry to enjoy it.
For the past five of her twenty-six years, Abbe had dedicated her life to caring for the abandoned animals in this well-to-do area outside of Boston. She'd inherited the house and founded Furry Faces after her grandmother's passing, and since then had poured her heart and soul into it. With the occasional help of her dear friend Charles, a charismatic man in his late 40s, and a few local high school students, she had transformed what had been her cat-hoarder grandmother’s mansion-turned-shelter into a haven for unwanted pets.
"Charles, I can't let this happen," Abbe said with a tremor in her voice, her hazel eyes filled with determination.
She turned to her friend, who was putting the finishing touches on the bouffant he had created for Jinx, quite possibly the ugliest Chihuahua-Chinese Crested mix ever. Jinx was old and missing teeth and had one eye that popped out strangely. If his looks were bad, his temperament was worse. You never knew when Jinx would feel threatened and try to bite. He’d lived at Furry Faces far longer than most of the other animals because no one wanted him. All of Charles’ lavish attention was like putting lipstick on a pig. A small, yipping, angry pig.
Charles was an expert dog groomer and he had many years of success breeding and showing all kinds of dogs with his life partner Randy. Working at Abbe’s shelter to make the least attractive animals more likely to get adopted was his way of giving back. People in this town paid hundreds of dollars to have their dogs groomed by Charles because he had a gentle way about him that soothed the animals, and he made them look spectacular. Dogs and cats absolutely loved him.
Charles fixed a red bow on top of Jinx’s lopsided head and peered over the rim of his glasses at Abbe. "You know I'm with you all the way, darling. But you have been fighting this battle for weeks now, and I hate to say it, but you’ve finally hit a brick wall."
“No. I can't accept that. This shelter… it means everything to me, you know that. I refuse to let it go without a fight," Abbe replied.
The source of their distress was a Boston corporation called Arc A Enterprises. For years, they had been the primary source of funding for Furry Faces. But less than a month ago, Abbe had received an impersonal email, informing her that the corporation had reallocated their funds to a more "worthy" charity.
She had sent a trimmed-down budget plan saying she could keep the doors open with less, then she’d sent a proposal to use her shelter to advertise anything they wanted, and finally, she’d broken down and begged them, but the response from Arc A Enterprises remained cold and unyielding. The funding for Furry Faces would end at the end of September.
Charles leaned forward, concern etched across his face. “Then we need to come up with a better plan, a new approach. Perhaps a fundraiser or a local campaign?"
Abbe nodded, appreciating Charles' unwavering support. "I’ll start brainstorming ideas. Maybe we can hold a town meeting to rally the community behind us."
Abbe and Charles began to outline their strategy as they did their rounds, caring for the animals. They came up with and discarded ideas while they went about watering, cleaning, and letting the animals out into the enormous yard for air and exercise. Abbe reached down to scratch the ears of a scruffy terrier mix with a troublesome skin condition. Furry Faces was a no-kill shelter, but so many of these animals would be put down if they had to go elsewhere. Her heart ached for all the animals that depended on her.
“A bake sale just isn’t going to cut it,” Abbe said finally.
“You could always just embarrass Arc A into giving you money,” Charles said while he had a cup of tea and watched Abbe take pictures of Jinx with his pretty bow.
“What do you mean?” she said, frowning.
“The internet, darling,” he said drolly. “You have an enormous following on Instagram.”
“Well, the animals do,” Abbe replied humbly.
Abbe tried not to take too much pride in the fact that her Furry Faces account had over a hundred thousand followers. All she did was take pictures of the animals and try to come up with funny things to say about them in the captions so they could get adopted, and they did the rest. People liked looking at cute cats and dogs and the occasional bunny. And it was the single best way to get people in the door at Furry Faces to adopt. Abbe posted at least four times a week.
“You can turn that camera around, you know,” he said, stepping in to fix Jinx’s fur when he growled at Abbe. “Make a video of yourself explaining the situation, about how Arc A doesn’t think your shelter is worthy anymore.”
“That’s kind of like blackmail, isn’t it?” Abbe said, hesitating.
Charles rolled his eyes. “Desperate times, desperate measures. I’m going to be fine, but you? I’m not so sure. You need help,” he teased.
Abbe laughed. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, letting Jinx go so he could join a few of the other small dogs on the rug for playtime.
She watched the tumble of their play, trying to take deep breaths. Social media gave her anxiety. It’s not that she didn’t like the way she looked, she just didn’t like taking selfies or making videos of herself. She chalked it up to being shy and modest, but it was more than that. She didn’t even have a dating profile, which was probably why she hadn’t been on a date in almost a year. That and the fact that the last relationship had not ended well.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” she said suddenly. She got actual shivers of nervousness.
“Really?” Charles asked, surprised. “Great! Give me your phone!”
Abbe dutifully handed over her smartphone and rolled her eyes. “Where should I stand?”
“Take off that baggy old cardigan and stand over there,” he said, gesturing to the bank of windows.
If there was one thing Charles was good at, it was making things look stylish and classy. He could take even the most bedraggled, scary-looking animal, and turn them into adorable cuddle bunnies. Abbe was pretty certain she’d come out looking okay. She just faced the camera, explained the situation, stated how many animals Furry Faces had placed over the past four years since she had opened the doors, and made a heartfelt plea to Arc A Enterprises to continue funding them.
“…I just want to say, to whoever it was who wrote that letter at Arc A Enterprises, that none of these animals are unworthy. Some of them, like Jinx here, aren’t the handsomest, but they don’t deserve to be ignored for that,”Abbe said scathingly, holding Jinx up to the camera. Lucky for her, he decided to start panting in the cutest ugly-dog way, like he knew his life was on the line. Which it very well could be.“All of them deserve love and care. Help me give it to them.”
