Mulberry Moon
Page 18
Ben couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t get how she could have become so attached to anything so fast, but he could see it in her expression. “The world won’t end if you aren’t open for a day.”
She sighed and smoothed her hair. It sprang erect again the moment she lifted her hand. “No, but I need to get cleaned up before I take him in.”
“Do you mind if I go along?” Ben feared that Sissy might hear only what she wanted to hear while talking with the vet. “I can take notes on my phone while you and Jack talk. If you’re going to keep him, Jack will recommend a good diet for him and stuff like that.”
“Okay. I may be upset if Jack says I can’t keep him. Two sets of ears will be better.”
Ben glanced at his watch. “I’ll call and make the appointment for eight sharp if I can. While you get ready, I’ll go downstairs and fix us some breakfast.”
She nodded and hurried to her bedroom. She stopped at the door. “Don’t bring Finnegan up here. He may snarl at Snickers and terrify him.”
The dog might frighten the rat. Give me patience. “I didn’t think about that. Finn is in the truck, and he might go into ferocious mode when he sees Snickers. How about if I put him in the laundry room? He’ll be fine in there with a bowl of water while we’re gone.”
Sissy nodded. “That’ll work.”
After Ben got Finnegan settled in Sissy’s laundry room, he went into the café kitchen to fix their morning meal. He quickly learned how the appliances worked, and he chose to make a simple offering of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast. When he thought of Sissy upstairs, his chest panged with sadness. He felt pretty sure that Jack would not agree with Sissy’s idea to make a pet out of a pack rat. He also felt certain that it would break her heart. For reasons beyond him, she’d fallen instantly in love with Snickers.
That told him so many things about her—mainly that she was lonely and needed something small and cuddly to love. Damn. Why couldn’t she choose someone big and cuddly, like him? Ben smiled to himself, understanding in a way someone else might not that loving an animal was totally different from loving a person. People are complicated. Creatures aren’t. Finnegan loved Ben unconditionally. Ben’s horses loved him unconditionally as well, even though they weren’t little. A special bond with an animal could be forged in only minutes. Ben had experienced that, and now apparently so had Sissy.
Ben wished he knew how to give Sissy the uncomplicated love that she needed. But wasn’t he doing that right now? If she wanted to keep a wild rat, he’d go along for the ride. Shit. He wasn’t just attracted to Sissy. He’d fallen head over heels in love with her.
Ben burned his finger on the grill as he flipped bread. He stopped cooking to shove the digit in his mouth. I’m in love with her. He didn’t know why the hell he felt so shocked. The first time he ever saw her, he’d been captivated. And ever since the night he’d helped catch her chickens, she’d been carving out her own special place within his heart. The way she’d responded to his cows and horses. Her exclamation of delight over the blue butterflies up at the falls. How she always pampered Finn and was aware of the pup’s needs, sometimes before Ben thought of them himself. He’d persisted in thinking of his feelings as a strong attraction.
He remembered the single tear that had slipped down her cheek as she stood over her dead hens. How glad he’d felt when he heard her voice after getting home from Montana. Hell, he’d even been excited about helping her dust chickens. It went on for hours until he could barely breathe. And yet he’d been so eager to see Sissy again that he’d volunteered for the job. What had he needed to realize he was falling in love with the woman, a neon sign flashing before his eyes?
Ben, still sucking his finger, stared down at the grill. He had incinerated the toast. He quickly flipped the hash browns so they wouldn’t meet the same fate.
* * *
Ben felt like a whore in church while he sat with Sissy in the vet clinic waiting area. No, worse than that. He felt as if he were wearing a sign across his chest that read, WEIRDO. DON’T GET TOO CLOSE. Other people with ordinary pets stared first at Snickers and then at Ben and Sissy. Clearly it wasn’t often that anyone brought a rat in for a checkup.
“I thought pet rats were white,” a blue-haired old lady, holding an equally old gray poodle, commented.
Sissy stiffened beside Ben. “No,” she said. “They can come in different colors.”
“I believe that’s mice you’re thinking of,” Ben inserted, attempting to inject into his voice a tone that would stop the old woman from saying more. It didn’t work.
“Well, I believe most pet rats are white,” she informed them. “I’ve seen a few that were dappled color but I’ve never seen a brown pet rat.”
Ben gazed at Snickers, who sat up on his haunches worrying his hands. No, not hands, paws. But the creature was dexterous, even so. He felt indignation welling inside him, and he also sensed that Sissy was getting upset. For reasons he couldn’t clearly define, he felt as defensive of her new friend as she did. Using his French, he said, “He’s a spècial miel brun.” In English that meant Snickers was a special honey brown, but the lady didn’t know that.
“Oh, my,” she replied. “He’s an exotic rat, then?”
Sissy inserted, “Why does it matter? He’s my pet, and he’s here to see the vet, like your dog. You’re sounding a bit racist to me, frowning upon my beautiful rat because he’s not the color you think he should be.”
“Oh, yes, he’s special,” Ben added. “They have them in France.” That wasn’t a lie; Ben felt certain France was just as infested with pack rats as the United States. “Getting him was no easy feat.” Again, that was the truth. “We’re bringing him in for a vet check. He has a delicate constitution.” Disease infested might have been a better term. “Your poodle isn’t sick, I hope.”
The old gal drew her dog closer to her chest. “He has a cough.”
“Oh, no.” Ben pushed to his feet, grabbed the handle of the cage, and pulled Sissy along behind him as he moved to sit where there were fewer people. “The spècial miel brun should never be exposed to ordinary pets.” Ben felt sweat trickling down his spine. He gave the office receptionist behind the counter a pointed look. “Can you ask one of the vet assistants to get us into a room? This extremely expensive rat may have a compromised immune system.”
The receptionist, a plump brunette with tortoiseshell glasses, nodded and hurried into the back of the building.
Sissy giggled and whispered to Ben, “A French rat? And extremely expensive as well?”
“Trust me,” Ben replied. “When you pay the vet bill, Snickers will be extremely expensive.”
A moment later, Cassidy Peck appeared. Ben noticed a glint of laughter in her blue eyes as she said, “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Bentley, will you please follow me?”
Ben was so grateful that he wanted to hug the girl as he followed her into a hallway. “Thank you. I was afraid panic might break out if someone realized a pack rat was in the waiting area.”
Cassidy giggled. “The receptionist told me it’s an exotic French rat. Where did that come from? On the chart, it says you caught a pack rat in a live trap.”
“I never said he came from France,” Ben replied. “I told the lady what color he is in French and said they have them in France, which I’m sure they do.”
Once inside the room, Ben set the cage on the examining table. Cassidy smiled at them and extended her hand to Sissy. “I don’t believe we’ve met, although I’ve eaten at your café. I’m Cassidy Peck.”
When Jack Palmer entered the examining room, he was grinning from ear to ear. Rubbing his hands together, he said, “I can’t wait to hear this story. I mean, it could make headline news. Ben Sterling, a rough-and-tough rodeo guy, falls for a pack rat.”
Ben arched one eyebrow. “I am not in love with a pack rat.” He gestured at Sissy. “My friend is, however.”
“Aw.” Jack’s gray eyes shimmered, and his grin dimmed slightly. He introduced himself to Sissy and then said, “Keeping this rat as a pet isn’t an idea that I can recommend.”
Sissy tried to protest, but Jack held up a hand. “That isn’t to say it can’t be done. But studies show that being caged can shorten the rat’s life span. They’re very social creatures.”
Sissy’s shoulders slumped. “Shorten his life span? But why? I’d love him to pieces and give him everything he needs.”
Ben and Jack exchanged a loaded look. Jack scratched his temple. “Well, if that’s what you decide to do, no one can stop you. But if you love this rat, you need to realize that he won’t be happy in a cage, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t give him everything he needs. Plus, pack rats can carry diseases that are harmful to humans and other pets.”
Sissy wasn’t going to be so easily discouraged. “Can you test Snickers to see if he’s carrying any of those diseases?”
Jack leaned his hips against the table and crossed his arms. “First of all, I don’t recommend caging this animal, so in the spirit of full disclosure, I can run a blood panel to check for certain stuff, but why bother? If you allow the rat to come and go as it pleases so it’ll be happy, testing it for diseases would cost you a small fortune and do absolutely no good. Snickers—cute name, by the way—might test negative on all counts one day and then catch a disease—or virus—the next.” It was Jack’s turn to arch an eyebrow. “Are you following me?”
“I’m following you, but I really want to keep him.”
Jack’s grin faded entirely. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bentley. It’s my professional opinion that trying to domesticate a pack rat will end in failure. If I search, I may find some tests I can run on a wild rat, but I think most of them are done on dead ones in a lab. Bottom line, I can clean out your wallet, but unless you keep the rat confined, it’ll be a useless expenditure. About all I can really do is recommend a healthy diet for him.”
“Can you at least check him for fleas?” Ben asked.
Jack sighed. “I can even treat him for those. But if he returns to a flea-infested nest, he’ll only get more.”
Ben held Jack’s gaze, longer this time, trying to convey to the man without words that he was breaking Sissy’s heart. Apparently Jack got the message. He hopped up on the counter by the sink and smiled at Sissy.
“Let’s look at a couple of alternatives,” he said gently. Pulling a prescription pad and pen from his pocket, he jotted notes and handed the page to Sissy. “Here are some websites I suggest that you visit. You can read about the ramifications for Snickers if you keep him in a cage. But, after reading about them, if you decide the kinder thing is to release him back into the wild, it doesn’t mean you must end your friendship with him.” He nodded toward Ben. “Maybe with his help you can find Snickers’s nest. Then you could visit him every day, taking him and his friends little surprises. You’ll need to plug all the holes in your building, though, so Snickers can only see you at his nest. He truly may carry diseases, so that will be safer for you and your other pets.”
Sissy looked to Ben as if she were about to burst into tears, and Sissy wasn’t one to easily reveal her emotions that way. “I have no other pets, not even one,” she said, her voice shaking. “Only my chickens, and I learned the hard way not to let myself love them too much. Now I’ve found Snickers. And it won’t be the same, visiting him at his nest.”
“But you could have another pet,” Jack stated. Arching a brow, he asked, “Would you mind leaving Snickers here for a moment while I introduce you to someone?”
By now, Sissy’s body was so taut with emotion that Ben feared she might shatter like blown glass. “I don’t need or want another pet. Snickers and I are fated to be friends.”
Jack nodded. “I understand that, but what if there’s a little creature who needs you? A sweet little someone who may die in the morning if he isn’t adopted. Won’t you please take just a moment to meet him?”
Sissy’s rebellious expression vanished. “Die?”
Jack hopped off the counter. “Yes. Please, just spare him a moment. He’s a very special little fellow.”
Sissy glanced over her shoulder at Ben. Her pleading gaze obliterated all his objections to her keeping Snickers. If it mattered so much to her, he’d do everything in his power to make it happen.
She surprised Ben by saying, “Of course I’ll spare a moment. Why will he die if he isn’t adopted?”
Jack opened the door and beckoned for them to follow him up a long hallway.
Chapter Twelve
Jack led Sissy and Ben to a large room lined floor to ceiling along each wall with cages. Sissy felt almost claustrophobic and struggled to breathe. This vet wanted her to turn Snickers loose into the wild and try to love another animal. Well, she had news for him. She owned a café. A dog would be all wrong. She heard them whining all around her, with an occasional, pathetic meow of a cat to change the tune.
Most of the cages contained animals that looked as if they’d undergone surgery.
“Is this your recovery room?” Ben asked.
“And holding area.” Jack stopped at a sink to wash his hands. Then he went to the far end of the cages stacked along the right wall. He opened a chest-high wire door. “This is who I want you to meet, Sissy.”
She stepped closer. Inside the cage, she saw a fluffy gray kitten missing both front feet. The amputated limbs appeared to be almost healed, the stubs grown over with pink skin.
“This fellow got left outside by his owners,” Jack explained. “When the man got home from work, it was cold outside, and the kitten sought warmth under the hood of his car. It happens too often. A recently used engine puts off heat, and a small creature gravitates toward the warmth. When the man’s wife told him he needed to make a grocery run for dinner, he went back out to the car, started the engine, and heard yowling.”
“Oh, my God,” Sissy whispered.
“The kitten’s front legs were mangled by the fan belt. I performed surgery, and he’s healing nicely. He could live to a ripe old age if he were given the chance.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“His owners have been waffling about what to do, and today, they decided to have him euthanized because he will require special care. This little guy can never go outside unless he’s in a safe enclosure. He’ll never be able to climb a tree or defend himself against other cats.” Jack paused. “I’m supposed to put him down in the morning.”
Sissy couldn’t see how this poor kitten related to her dilemma with Snickers, but her heart was already aching for the little guy in the cage. “That’s horrible” was all she could think to say.
“Especially when there’s a fabulous no-kill shelter next door where the kitten could possibly be adopted and go to a wonderful home,” Jack said. “If I could get authorization from the owners, I’d put him in the shelter. I work over there pro bono. I’m confident he’d get adopted. But the owners don’t share my certainty of that, and they don’t want the kitten to live over there for years in a cage.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be a good life for him,” she agreed.
Behind her, Ben said, “Well, heck, of course he’ll get adopted. I’d take him if I could, but I have barn cats. If the kitten ever got outside, he’d be toast.”
Just then the kitten hobbled over to its food dish. Jack winked at Sissy. “See? He’s already walking. I’m sure his stumps are still tender, but over time they’ll toughen up, and he’ll be running all over the place. Or he will if he gets the chance.” He gave her a solemn look. “If only someone would offer to adopt him today and convince the owner
s that he’ll have a wonderful, loving home, I wouldn’t have to kill him in the morning. Unfortunately, a vet is required by law to comply with the owners’ wishes in regards to an animal in his care. If this kitten were a stray, I’d have more control over its fate.”
Sissy felt her fists bunch at her sides, as if of their own volition. That kitten was every bit as adorable as Snickers, and his owners had consigned him to death. “I could give him a wonderful home.” She looked up at the vet. “He deserves to live. It’s not fair that his owners have that kind of power when he is perfectly healthy, except for having no front feet!”
Jack sighed. “I feel the same way. Do you really want to adopt him? He’ll never be able to be an outdoor cat. He may occasionally hurt his stubs and need them to be medicated and wrapped. He won’t be that much trouble, really, but he won’t be as easy to care for as a regular kitten.”
Sissy feasted her gaze on that adorable little fluff ball and instantly decided that she’d do anything to stop him from being euthanized. “I’m sure. I want him.”
Jack nodded. “But then you have Snickers to think of as well, Sissy. If you keep him caged, this kitten should be able to share the same home with him. But if you let Snickers return to his natural environment, which is my vote, you can never allow Snickers to be in your residence, just in case he has caught a disease that may compromise the health of the cat.”
With a decision like that to make, Sissy resisted her urge to reach past Jack to pet the kitten. He would be dead by this time tomorrow if she didn’t take him. But in another room of this clinic, Snickers, all trusting of her, waited. She couldn’t decide his fate without researching the ramifications of domesticating a pack rat.
As if he read her mind, Jack said, “We have some time. Maybe you should go home and read online about pack rats. Then, if you wish to release Snickers and take the kitten, you can call me. I’ve thrown a lot at you all at once.”