Ruby whimpers at my side. Letting out a slow breath, I reach in my pocket to grab a treat. I squat down and hold out the bone shaped biscuit. Ruby snags it from my fingers. Her body might be slow but her mouth is not.
“I bet you never thought you’d see Rhett again did ya, girl?” Her ears perk up at the mention of Rhett’s name. “Yeah, I know. You always were a sucker for those Allen boys.”
Gravel crunches under the weight of Tess’s car as she makes her way down the lane. Tess parks, hops out, and stuff her keys into her pocket.
“You’re early,” I holler.
Tess shrugs. “I got tired of painting and decided to call it quits. Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or was that Rhett pulling out of here?”
“That was Rhett.”
“Do you want to talk about what he was doing here, or will that require a case of wine? Because I’m not opposed to day drinking.”
“You drink wine by the case?”
She gives me a look. “Don’t most people?”
“No.” I shake my head and chuckle.
“Don’t knock ‘til you try it.”
Tess doesn’t know much about my relationship with Rhett, the same way I don’t know much about what brought her to Heaven three years ago.
“I’ll tell you about Rhett if you tell me why you moved to Heaven.”
Her smile fades. “If your story requires a case of wine, then mine requires several large bottles of tequila.”
“I actually have a bottle of tequila in the office,” I offer, curious to learn more.
“As tempting as that is, I’m going to pass. That’s a time in my life I’d rather not think about let alone talk about.”
“Maybe one of these days we’ll confide in each other.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Maybe.”
“Well, I guess since we’re not going to get drunk and spill all of our secrets we might as well get to work.”
Tess laughs and falls in step beside me as we walk into Animal Haven. “It’s a sad day when we’d rather shovel shit than talk about our past,” I say.
She sighs. “Don’t I know it.”
“Hey, sweet boy.” I step into an enclosure and sit down next to an overweight black cat. Pickles lifts his head when I set a bowl of cat food in front of him. He sniffs his gourmet meal, takes a few bites, and then looks away.
“Come on, you have to be hungry.” I lift the big ball of fur onto my lap hoping a little love might entice him. “You haven’t eaten in three days. I’ll make you a deal… If you clean your plate tonight, I’ll give you some tuna tomorrow. I know how much you love tuna.”
Pickles looks pleased with the offer. Hopping out of my lap, he winds his way around my ankles—the first time he’s initiated any form of affection toward me—and my heart leaps with joy.
Rescues come and go, it’s the part of the job, but some are hard to let go of. Pickles is one of them. Three times now I could’ve adopted him out. Who knew fat cats were a hot commodity? But, I couldn’t do it.
“Meow.”
“Fine, you can have wet food, but just this one time.”
I grab a can of wet cat food from the supply closet and when I return, Pickles is creeping toward the door of his cage.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I gently guide him back into the pen. “Tomorrow you’re eating your dry food first,” I say, peeling the top off. I plop the food into his bowl and when I turn around Pickles makes a mad dash for the open door.
Ruby barks and pickles skids to a halt.