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“Maybe,” she said.
“Would your dad really be pissed?”
“Definitely, but he also loves cats, so he’d be mad for show but immediately love on it.”
Laina appeared with one dog, a pit mix that nearly pulled her over as he struggled to get to the fenced area.
“I think I’ll take him,” Mercer said, opening the gate. “He looks pretty strong.”
“He loves to play,” Laina said. “He’s been here for a few months; his name is Wrigley like the baseball place.”
Mercer took the leash and had to brace himself so Wrigley wouldn’t pull him over in his excitement as he shut the gate. He grabbed a tennis ball and showed it to Wrigley. “Ready, boy?” Giving it a toss, he let go of the leash and laughed as he scampered around the concrete chasing the ball.
Laina returned a few moments later with a smaller dog that was equally as excited to be outside, but not as strong as Wrigley.
“We get them for ten minutes,” Rhomi said, opening the gate and taking her dog for a walk in the yard. “Then she’ll bring out another two and switch. We’ll keep going until we’ve walked all the dogs that are okay for the volunteers.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He watched his sweetheart walk the dog, her head down as she talked to the white pup that pranced along next to her.
Rhomi clearly had the golden touch with animals.
Wrigley barked sharply, and his lion recognized it as him asking for another round with the ball.
“You got it, kid,” he said, tossing the ball for him.
* * *
“Do you want to look at the cats before you leave?” Laina asked. “I know you always check to see if one touches your heart.”
Rhomi paused at the sink where they were washing their hands after spending two hours walking and playing with dogs. He’d had a great time and was glad to share it with his sweetheart.
She dried her hands off and tossed the paper towel. “Sure. So why do you guys have so many animals right now?”
“Hoarder,” Laina said. She opened a door to the cat section of the shelter, where rows of stacked cages were filled with kittens and cats. “The neighbors called because of the smell and noise. All the local shelters were contacted to rescue the animals. It made the papers and news too. The people are with the police now, facing charges. The animals are still being evaluated by the vet, so if you see one you’d like to adopt, I’ll put a hold on it for you and you can come back.” She gestured to the last row. “Those are the ones from the hoarder.”
“Thanks, Laina,” Rhomi said.
They walked slowly down the rows, Rhomi talking softly to each cat or kitten, pointing out how sweet they all were. They did see tabbies, and even though she wasn’t about to actually adopt a cat on her mom’s behalf, she did take pictures and send them to her.
When they reached the back row, Rhomi let out a soft sound. “So many cats, and they all look so awful.”
They were skinny and malnourished, many with injuries or matted fur. “Those assholes,” Mercer said, trying to contain his lion’s rage at their mistreatment. “I hope they spend years in jail for this. It’s horrible what people do to animals.”
“It really is,” she said. Then she hummed, squatting down and looking into a cage. “What the heck is this thing?”
He joined her and hummed. “It’s not a cat.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “But what the heck is it?”
Laina appeared. “We think it’s a jackal, actually.”
Rhomi looked at her. “They’re not from the States, though, right?”
“No, depending on the type, they’re from Africa or Europe. We think this one is a golden jackal, which is from Europe and Asia and is pretty common. The hoarders told police that it got caught in one of their traps and they thought it was a dog, so they kept it, but they were scared of it so they never let it out of the cage. They’d had it for a few weeks. It’s entirely possible too, that someone bought it on the black market and smuggled it into the country.”
Mercer stared at the strange beast. It was smaller than a dog but looked very similar to a coyote or small wolf.
