Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

A little brown and white puppy with droopy ears and big brown eyes looks up at us.

Willow falls to her knees beside them. “Oh my God, it has to be this one,” she cries.

I read the ticket:

Female Beagle

10 weeks old

In need of loving home

Gentle temperament

Great with children.

The puppy stares up at me with her big brown eyes.

Bree drops to the floor. “Look at her sweet, little face.”

“Let’s just keep looking, shall we?” I mutter, swiftly moving along.

I get to the end of the aisle and glance back to see that the three of them haven’t moved from their position beside the female beagle.

“Have you looked at every dog?” I ask them.

“We want this one,” Willow tells me with confidence.

“Bree, can you Google beagles and see what they are like, please?”

“Sure.” She takes out her phone and begins to read the information. “Great with children, lovely housemates, gentle, loyal. Not messy. Very quiet.”

I study her face. “Are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”

She giggles. “Totally.”

I roll my eyes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Are you sure this is the one you want?”

The three of them all smile and enthusiastically.

“Fine. That was easier than I imagined.” I walk over to the assistant. “Excuse me, can we take the ten week old beagle, please?”

The young girl smiles and then goes through a series of questions and then finally replies. “Great choice. She’s a beautiful little girl. I’ll get her ready and meet you out the front in ten minutes.” She takes the puppy from her cage, and Willow and Samuel start to bounce on the spot, unable to control themselves. “I’ll meet you out the front.” She smiles before she disappears through the office door.

We walk into another section of the shelter and my face falls. It’s filled with kittens.

“Oh my God,” Willow gasps.

“Look at this one!” Bree shrieks.

We walk over to see a little white fluffy ball of fur staring back at us.

“This one,” Samuel calls to us. “He looks like the one that attacks bears.” The three of them all burst out laughing.

I go to the front counter and wait for the girl to return with our puppy.

“Oh no, he got me.” Willow laughs, and we turn to see a little ginger and white kitten standing on his back two legs. He’s put his paw through the cage and somehow got it snagged in Willow’s knitted jumper.

She giggles as she tries to unhook herself, and Samuel and Bree begin to help her. The kitten is a livewire, playing with them through the cage.