by Molly Fitz
I bent down and scooped her up, and Paisley immediately set to licking my face as if it were covered in gravy or bacon grease or some other irresistible treat. “Yes, I can talk to both animals and people,” I explained. “I don’t know why, though. It’s kind of just the way things are. Would it be okay if I talked to you?”
Paisley wagged her tail so hard her entire body shook, then she broke apart into a shivering fit. Whether she needed a sweater or some anti-anxiety medicine, I couldn’t say for sure. The shivering continued as she jumped into an excited monologue. “I’ve always wanted my own humans, and now I even have one that talks! The other dogs back at the shelter won’t believe it! When are they coming for a visit? Or, oh! Maybe they could move in with us, too. This house is plenty big, and there are lots of dogs that need homes.”
I laughed at her enthusiasm, even though her reminder of all the homeless pets that had remained behind following Nan’s impromptu adoption of Paisley made my heart feel heavy. “I’m sorry, Paisley. I wish I could adopt all your friends, but I already made a promise to take care of my cat the best I can, and he would be very upset if we filled our house up with dogs.”
As soon as I set Paisley back on the floor, she curled up against my foot and pouted. “He’s a very mean kitty.”
“Yeah, he kind of is, but he’ll grow on you, I promise. And I bet you’ll grow on him, too. He just needs time to get used to having you here. It’s a very big change.”
“It’s a big change for me, too.” The little dog ran in a circle to indicate the giant manor in which she now lived. “At the shelter I had to share a cage with two other dogs. It was very crowded. That’s why I thought we could give some of the others a home, too.”
Three to a cage?
I hadn’t spent much time at the local animal shelter, but from what I remembered, we’d never had an overcrowding problem in the past. Maybe things had just been a bit different for Paisley than the others due to her extremely small size.
I already felt guilty about not being able to adopt more animals. Thinking of them now all cramped together made me feel that much worse. Maybe a few volunteer shifts or a small donation were in order, both to help them out of a potentially tough spot and to ease my guilty conscience.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down so that Paisley and I were at closer to the same level. “How would you like to visit the shelter with me tomorrow? You can say hi to your friends, and I’ll see if there’s anything we can do to help them find new homes.”
Paisley let out a high-pitched cry and began to shake furiously once again. “You’re not making me go back. Are you?” the dog yelped. “Because Nan said this is my home now.”
This poor thing. No wonder Nan had been charmed enough to bring her home.
“Oh, sweetie. I promise I wouldn’t do that to you. Nan’s right. This is your home now, and nothing’s going to change that.”
Paisley stood on her hind legs and reached her paws up my leg. “I love you, new mommy,” she said. “This is the best day of my entire life.”
My heart swelled at the Chihuahua’s confession of love. It had taken me almost dying at the hands of a gun-toting psychopath to get Octo-Cat to even admit he liked me. Yet Paisley had only needed a single short conversation to forge the deepest of bonds. As much as I adored my Octo-Cat, it sure felt nice to be appreciated rather than insulted.
Hmmm. Maybe I’m not as much of a cat person as I once thought.
Of course, I immediately felt guilty for thinking that even in passing. It was our petaversary, after all, and I’d promised my feline overlord freshly grilled shrimp by way of celebration.
It was time to leave Nan and Paisley to celebrate their own adoption day together while I did my best to ease the poor, put-out kitty that sat waiting for me in my bedroom tower.
I closed my eyes tight and wished that one day we could all be one big happy family. I didn’t have a candle to blow out and it wasn’t anyone’s birthday, but I hoped the special wish magic I’d grown up believing in could save us now.
Honestly, we were going to need a miracle to get my stubborn cat to change his heart when it came to the poor, shivering dog that needed us.
Just in case, I said a quick prayer, too.
One way or another, we would find a way to all live peacefully together.
After all, we didn’t have any other option.
Chapter Three
When I returned to my room with grilled shrimp and Evian for both Octo-Cat and myself, I found him sitting on my pillow flicking his tail pensively.
The moment he saw me, he popped to his feet and began to pace the length of the mattress. “Well, did you talk some sense into Nan about the unappreciated monstrosity she has wrought on our house? On my house?” He didn’t even look at me as he spat each word. If he had, I’m sure my face would have given away everything he needed to know.
“Umm, a little,” I hedged, trying hard not to sigh yet again. “Mostly I talked to Paisley, though, and she is really happy to be here.”
Octo-Cat stopped pacing and stared at me with open disdain. “And I’d be really happy for her to not be here.”
I let out a groan and sunk down onto the bed beside him. “I know change is hard, but—”
The tabby diva lifted a paw and shook his head. “I’ll stop you right there. If you’re not for me, then you’re against me. And thus…” He paused and sighed heavily. “I bid you good night, Angela.”
I watched helplessly as he hopped off the bed and crawled back beneath it. “Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this, either,” I called after him.
But Octo-Cat refused to respond.
“We can’t just send her back. From what Paisley told me, the shelter is already pretty overcrowded, and that’s not a very nice way for her to have to live, especially when there’s a family who wants her. Our family.”
He still said nothing to acknowledge me or my arguments.
“You can’t just ignore me,” I huffed, throwing myself back onto the bed in resignation. “How are we supposed to solve our cases if we’re not talking to each other?” I asked while studying a smudge on the ceiling.
Octo-Cat didn’t answer, which was probably for the best regarding this last point. The truth was even though we’d opened Pet Whisperer P.I. for business more than one week ago, we still had yet to book our first case.
If I could do it all over again, I might have rejected the kooky name that Mom and Nan had saddled us with. Around Blueberry Bay, calling yourself a pet whisperer pretty much guaranteed that folks thought you were crazy—or worse, a fraud.
And I was neither, thank you very much.
Maybe if I started a website or took out an ad, business would pick up a bit. My boyfriend Charles had already offered to refer business from the firm our way when he or one of the associates needed extra help. I’d originally rejected his offer, preferring to either succeed or fail totally on my own. Now, however, I was starting to wonder if I was being too stupid, too proud. If I could help people, do what I loved, and get paid for it, then who cared how I came about my clients?
“Can we please talk about this?” I begged my still fuming cat.
“You already know where I stand on the matter. When you decide to join me, then I’ll decide to talk to you,” Octo-Cat mumbled in that horrible patronizing tone I loathed.
“Fine, then you can spend our petaversary alone.” Even though I knew he wasn’t going to answer me, I still stormed off and slammed the door.
Of course, I hated to leave my kitty companion like that, but being together at that moment was, unfortunately, creating more problems than it was solving. Maybe with a good night’s sleep, we’d be able to start this conversation fresh in the morning.
Maybe.
But until then, I just couldn’t take any more fighting.
And so I set his food and water on the floor, went to retrieve his litter box, and then moved my bedding to one of the spare bedrooms so we could both have a bit of time to co
ol off. Once I’d settled in, I shot Charles a quick text to let him know not to come over that night and went to bed several hours earlier than I’d planned.
Happy Petaversary to me!
The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and much less irritated than I’d been the night before. The moment I left my temporary quarters, Paisley raced over to lick my ankles and tell me about the great adventures she’d had touring the estate with Nan.
“There are so many great places to pee! So many!” she gushed as I reached down to scratch her between her adorable oversized ears. “I love it here! It’s like a paradise for dogs! I can’t believe I get to live here now! I love my new life! I love you!”
I chuckled to myself while she zoomed off again. She ran in such fast, tight circles that soon she was almost completely out of breath from the exertion of it all. When Paisley slowed down and approached me again, her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth and she panted heavily, smiling up at me with unmistakable affection.
“I’m glad you like it here,” I told her. “Nan and I will do everything we can to make sure you love everything about your new life. Hey, by the way, do you still want to go to the shelter with me for a quick visit today?”
“Oh, boy. Oh, boy! Oh, yes! Yes, please!” the little dog trilled, running another manic lap before returning to me once more.
I laughed again, something I could tell I’d be doing lots of now that Paisley was a part of my world. “I don’t think they’re open yet, but let me check their hours online and find out when they do.”
Paisley followed me up the stairs and toward my bedroom—the bedroom where I just happened to know that one very crabby tabby would still be sitting by his lonesome and bemoaning his bad luck.
I stopped so abruptly that the eager Chihuahua bumped into my lower leg. “Um, I’m sorry, but Octo-Cat is going to be upset if you come in with me. Would you mind waiting outside for me? I promise to come back very soon.”
The little tricolor dog plopped her butt down on the top stair and wagged her tail furiously. “I will be a good girl and wait, because that’s what you said to do!”
Well, that was an entirely different response than I ever would have received from Octo-Cat. Oh, a pet owner could most assuredly get used to this. I wiped my face of the smile that had just spread from cheek to wicked cheek and quietly let myself into my cat’s self-imposed prison.
“Octavius?” I called out, using his preferred name in the hopes it might earn me some sorely needed brownie points. “Are you in here?”
“Of course I’m in here, Angela,” he growled from beneath the bed. “But I also smell that the dog is out there.”
“Oh, Paisley? She’s not coming in. I—”
Just then, the door burst open and an exuberant Paisley bounded through the door and rushed straight under the bed. “I heard you call my name. I’m a good girl. I’m coming to you!” she called as she shot past me in her renewed pursuit of her new cat roommate.
“Betrayal!” Octo-Cat cried, shooting past me and bolting down the stairs in a whirlwind of fluff and attitude. “Betrayal of the highest order!”
Even from all the way up here, I heard his electronic cat flap beep and pull open from the foyer.
Paisley at least hadn’t given chase. Instead, she stood proudly at my heels, beating a steady drum with her small black tail against the floorboards. “Did I do good, Mommy?” she asked.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. “You did good,” I hedged. “But next time, wait until I say come. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mommy. I surely can do that! You’re my best friend, and I love you!” With this said, she began licking my toes and didn’t stop for at least three whole minutes.
Okay, fine. So maybe I was starting to find her enthusiasm a little annoying…
Chapter Four
Paisley and I trotted into the Glendale Animal Shelter around lunchtime. A pudgy older woman greeted us from behind a battered oak desk tucked into the corner of the entryway at the very moment we arrived.
“Welcome! Welcome!” she crooned. Then, shooting her gaze toward Paisley, she cleared her throat, dropped it a few notes, and said, “Hey, I recognize you, little dog. You aren’t bringing her back. Are you? Was something wrong at home?”
Paisley scuttled back to cower behind my leg, shivering violently as I’d already come to realize was her way whenever anything either upset or excited her.
“No, of course not!” I assured them both. “We’re just here for a little visit is all. Actually, is there someone I can speak with about maybe putting in some volunteer hours?”
The other woman’s entire countenance lit up at this. “Oh, how lovely! Yes, yes, let me just take you back to our Community Outreach Coordinator’s office so the two of you can have a little chat.”
I nodded my agreement, then followed her through a set of double doors into the behind-the-scenes area of the shelter.
Paisley pranced alongside me, stopping frequently to sniff at the air or press her quivering nose to the floor. “It all smells exactly the same as it did yesterday,” she mused. “Oh, can you believe it, Mommy?”
I could believe it; I could believe it very easily but chose not to say anything that might dampen the little dog’s spirits. Instead, I held my tongue as our guide led us down a long, narrow room filled wall-to-wall on each side with floor-to-ceiling kennels. Sure enough, many of the dogs were housed several to a cage, just as Paisley had described the night before.
“Hey, Chihuahua! What are you doing back in this awful place?” a black Labrador mix called after us, then pushed his snout through the metal caging and whined.
“Haha. Just visiting!” Paisley cried happily. “I have two new humans. This one even talks,” she added, referring to me as we continued to follow the front desk volunteer deeper and deeper into the shelter.
“It talks?” a fluffy little dog asked in a high-pitched voice. “Really?”
“Really. And it’s a girl, so say she. That’s the polite thing to do.” Paisley followed up her answer by nudging my leg with her cold nose. “Hey, Mommy. Say something to our friends!”
I coughed and widened my eyes at Paisley, giving my head a subtle shake that I sincerely hoped she would understand. She was still very new to our home and didn’t yet seem to understand that I couldn’t exactly out my ability in front of unknown humans. I’d have to explain how everything worked once the two of us had some privacy. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too embarrassed by my unexpected unwillingness to perform my neat human trick for the other shelter dogs.
“Here we are,” our guide said brightly, rescuing me from that disappointed look on my sweet doggo’s face. “You’ll find Mr. Leavitt straight through that door.”
“Thank you,” I said, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.
“My name’s Pearl,” she offered with a friendly smile. “And it’s my pleasure to assist. I’ll be just up front, should you have any questions for me before you go. Good luck!”
I watched Pearl zoom away, somewhat confused by the fact that she’d wished me good luck. Didn’t places like this always need a steady stream of volunteers?
The dogs behind us began to bark in earnest. I tried to understand what they were saying, but too many voices mixed together for me to make out any single thread. Suddenly, I felt very anxious as I raised my fist to knock on the office door before me.
“Come in,” someone—presumably Mr. Leavitt—called.
I scooped Paisley into my arms, then pushed the door open. At the same exact time, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered on, off, on, and then at last off again. The long room filled with kennels fell completely dark and silent, but the small office before me had a steady stream of sunlight wafting in from the large row of windows along the back wall.
“Hello,” I said shyly. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”
The man behind the desk glanced up at me with a welcoming grin. Shockingly, he appeared
to be about my age—late twenties, maybe early thirties. For some reason, I’d expected someone far older. Maybe it was the fact that the gray-haired woman I’d just met had chosen to refer to him as a Mr.
He stood and extended a hand in my direction. “You mean the lights? Nah, that happens all the time. Come on in all the way, take a seat, and tell me what I can do for you.” His blue eyes shone as our hands made contact, and I swear I felt a tiny spark jump from his skin to mine.
I didn’t find Mr. Leavitt particularly attractive, but there was something about him that was inescapably alluring. If this whole Community Outreach Coordinator gig fell through, I’m sure he’d have a long and prosperous career in Hollywood, D.C., or even the boardroom. He’d fit in easily anywhere charisma was valued and rewarded.
“I know this guy,” Paisley said from atop my lap after I’d taken a moment to get settled in one of the padded chairs opposite Mr. Leavitt’s desk. “He’d play with us sometimes. And he brought lots of people by to visit. Sometimes they would play with us, too.”
I patted the dog’s head instead of answering her directly. Keeping my hand there, I directed my attention back toward the only other human in the room. “As you can see, my Nan and I adopted this sweet little girl from your shelter. And, well, we’re just so happy to have her that I wanted to pay it forward somewhere.”
Mr. Leavitt nodded and folded his hands on the desk before him. “Pay it forward? How so?”
“Could you use any volunteers? I kind of have a way with animals.” Of course that was the understatement of the year, but there was no way I was telling this guy the truth about my hidden abilities.
“That’s very kind of you, Miss…?” He paused and flashed me a disarming grin.
“Russo,” I offered, hating that heat was now rising to my cheeks. “Angie Russo. Hi.”
He winked and leaned back in his chair, putting me at ease once more. “As I was saying, that’s very kind of you for wanting to help. You probably noticed we’re a bit overcrowded at the moment.”
