by Carol Ross
Mia nodded. “Believe it or not, fleas are one of the worst problems with cat hoarders. The cats get so many bites and lose so much blood they end up with anemia. It’s often life-threatening. That little guy is...” Mia shook her head, not wanting to diagnose that possibility.
“Will he live?”
“I don’t know. He needs medical treatment ASAP.”
Brow tightly drawn, his expression was a combination of pity and horror. He cradled the kitten close and Mia thought maybe he wasn’t quite as cold as he’d seemed earlier.
In addition to ear mites, a cursory inspection of the cats in the immediate surroundings revealed eye infections, skin conditions, upper respiratory infections, malnutrition and what looked like several nasty abscesses, probably from fighting.
“What do we do? Where do we even start? They are all over the inside, too,” Jay said, pointing toward the window.
Torn and shredded curtains were hanging haphazardly in the large picture window. The house was dark, but cats were lined up on the windowsill, multiple colors of fur pressed against the glass. They were stretched along the back of a sofa. Curious, wary eyes turned their way.
“Unfortunately, we start with the homeowner. Often these people are very resistant to help. They think we’re trying to confiscate the animals they believe they are helping. In other words, we’re the bad guys.”
Breathing through her mouth, Mia stood in front of the door and prepared to knock. She noticed movement between a gap in the curtains. The deliberate motion suggested it was a person. It seemed too far above the ground to be a cat, although there could be an object sitting there for them to perch on.
“I think someone is home,” Jay said, confirming her thoughts.
After waiting a minute, she lifted a hand and rapped her knuckles hard against the door. Cats scattered. She could hear sounds of scuffling from within, but had no idea if it was animals or people.
Jay began speaking quickly, “What are we going to do? Where’s that phone number? We need to call the police. This is just...cruel. Oh no, that one is limping.” Still cradling the kitten, he began taking photos with his cell phone. Mia was struck by the wisdom of that move.
She knocked again. “Let’s see what the resident has to say. Maybe they’ll be cooperative.”
Technically, she could call law enforcement and get some assistance. Just from the cats she could see, there was ample evidence of neglect. But animal hoarding was tricky. Often hoarders weren’t trying to be cruel. The opposite, in fact. They felt like they were “saving” the animals in their care and often couldn’t see the damage and suffering they were inflicting. Mia knew that going into this situation from an adversarial position could likely make things worse.
She turned around to descend the steps and noticed the porch kittens had been joined by a larger, rail-thin tabby cat. Her coat was too coarse and patches of skin were showing through where fur had fallen out. She was obviously mom, as she was busy cleaning the face of one lethargic black kitten. Mia knelt in front of the bed to gauge mom’s reaction to human contact. Purring immediately ensued and Mia’s throat felt tight as she blinked away tears. Even with everything she’d seen in her years of training and working, the good nature of animals in even the poorest of conditions never failed to get to her. A mix of determination and desperation propelled her into action.
“We’re taking these guys right now.” She picked up the mom and handed her to Jay. “Put her and your kitten in the biggest crate in the back.”
“Can we do that? Just take them?” Jay asked, shifting the kitten and cradling the mom. Mia liked how their unhealthy state didn’t seem to make him squeamish.
“We’re going to.” She scooped up the rest of the kittens, filthy bed and all. “If someone inside wants to call the police, fine. It will make our job easier in a way.” Bring it on, she thought; it would take that chore out of her hands.
After stowing the rest of the kittens inside the crate, she returned the bed to the porch. Studying the yard, her soul felt heavy with a mix of sadness, frustration and anger. Too many cats... She wished she could take them all. With the pet crates in the back, plus the built-in one she’d installed in the van after she bought it, she quickly did some math, planning on how to make the most of the space.
She told Jay, “This isn’t going to be easy. But we’re going to fill the crates with as many of these guys as we can. Let’s pick the ones that look the worst off and that we can most easily catch. I’ll tell you where to put them.”
Jay nodded, his expression grim but determined. He held a cat under each arm and Mia once again appreciated the fact that he was here. This would have been so much more difficult by herself.
She took out her phone and dialed. “Charlotte? Hey, it’s me. You know how you were thinking that call you took about the cat hoarder on Porpoise Point Road might be an exaggeration?” She paused as she listened to Charlotte’s response. “Yeah, uh-oh is right. Can you ask Dr. Anthony how long he can stick around? Then call the vet clinics in Remington and Tiramundi and see how many cats they can take? Dr. Foster might be able to come over and help us out, too. She offered when I spoke to her yesterday. We’re bringing back as many as we can.”
After firming up a few more details, she hung up the phone and took out the paper Charlotte had given her.
“I’m going to call the police liaison and give him a heads-up.”
* * *
WHEN THE VAN was full of cats, Jay looked around, overwhelmed with a combination of determination and despair. “I feel like we haven’t even made a dent in this.” As if to underscore his statement, a big orange cat began making figure-eight patterns around his ankles. The cat’s deep purr vibrated through him and then straight into his conscience.
Mia nodded. “I know. But we have. Every cat in this van now gets a chance at a better life.”
Jay leaned over and snagged the orange cat. “This one can ride on my lap. What time is the police guy meeting you?”
Mia smiled at the gesture and nodded. “Tonight at seven. We’ll take these guys to the clinic. I’ll be able to work on them for several hours, then I’ll come back here, meet the officer, and see what else we can do. Lots of times people will open the door for the police.”
As he and his orange buddy climbed in the passenger seat of the van to the multitude of pathetic mewls and howls of sick and scared cats, Jay couldn’t stop thinking about his attitude that morning. How inconsiderate he’d been, how ignorant. The cat circled a couple times and made himself comfortable on Jay’s lap.
Mia turned on the van, her features calm but serious. She’d more than earned his respect. She’d been incredible, gathering cats right and left, some so ill they could barely move. She’d stepped over feces, vomit, piles of garbage, and crawled under cars and old pieces of furniture to reach the cats she deemed the most in need. A quick inspection and she somehow knew which cats to put where. Most shared cages while a few got their own. Jay followed her instructions, marveling at her calm and expertise.
“I owe you an apology.”
She threw a surprised glance his way. He’d obviously interrupted her thoughts. She was probably already shifting into vet mode, deciding how to proceed with the cats they’d gathered, cataloging the most critical cases in her mind. The rescue mentality, he decided, was likely the same no matter if you were saving people or animals.
“I really didn’t think this through. I acted like a jerk this morning, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. People don’t get it. They always think someone else will help or that it’s only cats and how bad off could they be? That’s why we have such a problem with stray cats in this country.”
“But that’s what bugs me. I’m not the kind of person to think that. I’m...” He almost said that as a person who’d been on the receiving end of charity h
e knew better than to take it for granted or to write it off as someone else’s responsibility. That would be too much information.
“You’re what?”
“I’m, uh, I’m disappointed in myself. For thinking less of your program than some of the other charities we signed up.”
“Well, thank you.” She acknowledged the apology with a brusque nod.
After a few seconds, she added, “But I understand. There is so much need out there. Sick kids, babies with cancer, the elderly, terminally ill people...” Jay watched her shoulders tense as her hands readjusted their grip on the steering wheel. “Animals sometimes get shifted in society’s collective priorities, so to speak. I’m not saying that’s wrong or right, but animals need help, too. And there are lots of wonderful organizations helping animals out there, but like with everything else, there’s more need than help.”
Even though she was right and her words mirrored his own thoughts, Jay wasn’t sure he deserved for her to go so easy on him. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to quit on her. He and Josie had talked often about how important it was to set a good example for Levi and Laney.
They arrived at the clinic and began unloading their cargo. Jay felt a sense of satisfaction as Mia took the orange cat and disappeared inside. After a couple more trips back and forth, a man in a green doctor smock covered with cartoon cat faces met him at the door.
He extended a hand and introduced himself to Jay. “Ted Anthony. I’m Mia’s partner here at the clinic.”
“Jay Johnston.”
Pointing a finger toward Jay, his face lit with a smile. “You’re the Coast Guard officer who saved Mia and Nora and Captain Shear.”
“I was a part of the rescue crew, yes.”
“They are very modest, I’ve learned,” Mia commented drily as she joined them. “These Coast Guard search-and-rescue people. No one will take credit for anything. They pass it around like a hot potato.”
Dr. Anthony chuckled. “I find that admirable. Like a team.”
“We consider ourselves precisely that.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Jay. Thank you for your service to our country. And for your contribution in saving my partner. She means the world to me.”
“Thank you, Dr. Anthony. But truly, I was just doing my job.”
“I get that.” He grinned, turned toward Mia and asked, “What’s up? Charlotte said you’ve got a hoarder?”
She filled him in.
“How many cats are we talking about?”
Mia shook her head. “I don’t know. So many... A lot of them are skittish and feral. We could hear them inside the house, too. And see some through the window. I’m guessing as many as a hundred.”
Jay added, “There were cats scattering as we pulled up, running into the woods. I would guess that number is on the low side.” Jay offered his cell phone photos for inspection.
“Whoa.” Dr. Anthony analyzed the screen. “That’s a lot of cats.”
Mia said, “I know. I’m meeting with a police liaison this evening. He told me he’s bringing a representative from the humane society. We brought back a van full, but we really need to get cooperation from the homeowner before we can do more. I probably pushed it a little as it is.”
“You did the right thing. No creature deserves this. We’ll do what we can for now.” He reached out and gave Mia’s shoulder a squeeze before picking up the carrier containing three of the sickest cats they’d brought in. “I’ll get to work on these guys.” He carried them through the door and toward an exam room.
“He’s so great,” Charlotte said as they watched him depart. “I can’t believe he’s even here today.”
“I know. I’m incredibly grateful he is. I’ll be here all night as it is.”
“That reminds me, Tiffany and Stacey are both coming in,” Charlotte said. “And Dr. Foster.”
“Fantastic news.” Mia glanced at the watch on her wrist and then up at Jay. “Well, Officer Johnston, thank you so much for your help this morning. But you are off the clock.”
His shift was supposed to be from 8:00 a.m. until noon. He knelt down and opened the cat carrier he’d brought in. He removed the first kitten he’d picked up earlier. “I think I’ll work a double today. Where do I put this little guy? And is there anything I can do for him right now?”
The smile she gave him went some distance toward assuaging his guilt.
“Charlotte, can you take Jay and these cats back? Let’s put mom and babies in number three. We’ll treat them here at our clinic. And then put Jay to work.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SUNDAY MORNING, AN exhausted Mia rolled out of bed and went in search of the coffee she could smell brewing. Her coffee-eschewing mom must have taken pity on her and made her a pot. How sweet.
As she neared the kitchen, she heard voices. Nora must have company this morning, probably Annie checking on her. A few more feet and she realized that a male voice was mixed with her mom’s. A pinochle buddy? Too late she realized she was wrong; she stepped into the room and saw the back of a man she knew immediately was Jay. She’d spent hours with him the day before and she’d recognize that back anywhere. Her face flaming, she glanced down at her baggy pj’s and fuzzy blue slippers. Her hands flew up to her mass of bed head that she hadn’t even bothered to pull into a ponytail. Intending to retreat, she took a hasty step backward, right into George. She’d been too distracted to realize he was hot on her heels. She let out an “oomph.”
“Mia!” her mom called before she could escape. “Good morning.”
Jay turned, a coffee mug in his hand and a bright smile on his face. Mystery solved about that tantalizing odor so clearly not intended for her. Why was Officer Johnston in her kitchen drinking her coffee?
“Good morning,” he said. Mia watched his eyes travel up and down the length of her. Was it her imagination that he appeared to be fighting a chuckle? And was it possible to actually die of embarrassment? She wondered as she tucked wayward strands of hair behind her ears and assured herself that he’d seen her looking worse. She couldn’t imagine looking more unattractive than she’d been post-airplane crash or yesterday knee-deep in filthy cats. She plastered on her best “who cares” face and sauntered into the kitchen toward the coffeemaker. At least he’d saved her some.
“Um,” she croaked. “It might be after I’ve had a cup of coffee.”
“Guess what?” Nora asked her excitedly.
Mia found a cup and poured herself some coffee. “There’s a Coast Guard officer in our kitchen?”
“Yep, and he fixed our door.”
Mia turned to look at him, brows scooting up onto her forehead. “Really?”
“Look at this.” Her mom hustled over to the back door, opened it, closed it, and then repeated the whole process. “Smooth as glass,” she reported proudly. “Can you believe it?”
Mia stared at him and answered flatly, “I really can’t.” Because she certainly couldn’t believe that he’d reluctantly helped her save cats the day before then shown up at her house and fixed her door. What was this about?
“Thank you,” Mia said, feeling a little overwhelmed. She hadn’t really expected him to fix the door anyway. People said things all the time intending to follow through, but not quite ever getting there.
“You’re welcome. It really was a simple fix. A little planing and sanding and it’s as good as new.”
“Simple for you, maybe.”
Nora went on, “You know how we’ve been talking about putting in a pantry cabinet here?” She pointed to the empty corner adjacent to the door. “I’ve hired Jay to make us one. He says he can make it look just like the kitchen cabinets.”
Mia blinked slowly. “You can do that? Make cabinets?”
His lips seemed to be flirting with a grin. “Yes, I can.”
“Oh, um, well... Do you have time to do stuff like that?”
“Yeah, it’s one of the things I do when I have time off.”
“Like a hobby?”
“Yes.” He kind of chuckled. “And for money. Don’t worry, I gave your mom a killer deal.” He added a wink and not for the first time, Mia wished he weren’t so attractive. Doesn’t like animals, Mia. In the Coast Guard, Mia, she silently repeated.
“Huh,” she eloquently managed to articulate through her surprise. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised that he had mad carpenter skills or by the fact that he was a man of his word. He’d proved that yesterday when he’d stuck around at Lucky Cats even after he’d made it very clear he didn’t want to be there.
Apparently reading her mind, he asked, “How did it go with the police and the humane society guy yesterday?”
Mia sighed, brushing a hand across her cheek. “Not good. The homeowner did answer the door, but as I was afraid of, she was very hostile. This is going to be a tough case. She’s an older woman. Classic hoarder symptoms—very defensive, self-righteous. And she demanded to know where the tall guy was that stole her kittens.” She paused to chuckle. “That was you obviously. I tried to take all the blame, but she was fixated on you. She agreed to not press charges because of the animal cruelty charges she’s facing herself. Even though she can’t see that she’s being cruel. It’s very frustrating. But the good news is that the police officer helping me out seems very determined. He’s a cat lover himself, wants to adopt one of the cats. He’s going to get a hold of the woman’s daughter.” She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“Can we plan another raid? I’ll never forget how you just started taking those cats. Fearless.” He looked at Nora and asked, “Did you know your daughter was an expert catnapper?”
They all laughed. Mia tried to ignore how the compliment warmed her. “Yeah, I can be a little single-minded when it comes to saving animals. I’d love to plan another raid, so to speak, but the police officer cautioned me against that. He’s probably right that we need to try to keep this situation as far from adversarial as we can.”
