Page 96 of Just Between Us

“I bet Mutt is so pissed I left him behind.” Green eyes glance my way and back to the road. “But I figured taking him to a pet adoption event might complicate things. Don’t need him starting shit with a dog that’s already had a rough day.”

I laugh at the mental image. “Probably a good call.”

The Singing River Animal Shelter sits at the edge of town, a small brick building with an enclosed yard where volunteers can be seen setting up folding tables and stringing heart shaped banners along the chain link fence. The parking lot is already half full, and Liam parks in the first available spot.

At the entrance, we’re intercepted by a whirlwind of a woman. She can’t be more than five feet tall with frizzy silver hair.

“Liam! Thanks for coming!” Turning to me, she thrusts a hand out. “I see you’ve brought reinforcements. I’m Diana, shelter director.”

“Cassie,” I offer, shaking her hand, surprised by the strength of her grip.

“Great. Love it.” She shoves clipboards and pens at us and spins on her heel.

I give Liam a sidelong glance and mouth,What do we do?

Diana glances back when she realizes we aren’t with her. “Well, come on, you two. The animals await.”

She leads us through row upon row of cages, each one containing a sad-faced dog of varying breeds. Puppies tumble over one another in a playpen contraption and I stop to love on each one.

“As you can see, each cage has a name on it. What I need you two to do is attach these cards.” She hands me a stack of cards, each with a photo of an animal, and details about that animal. Personality traits, temperament, medical and housing needs. “The key is to pay attention to what each card says so when youchat with someone looking to adopt, you’ll be better at pairing them up. Think of yourself as matchmakers.”

Before either of us can respond, she’s gone, barking orders at one of the dog walkers.

The last row is where the cats are. Orange tabbies, fluffy black cats, a litter of kittens so small they could fit in my palm.

And then I see her.

Third cage from the end. A massive tortoiseshell cat, easily twice the size of a normal house cat, sprawled across a fleece blanket.

I quickly sift through the remaining cards until I come to hers.

Name: Duchess

Age: 12

Notes: previous owner died. Strong-willed personality. Needs a quiet home with no other cats.

Date of intake: 1/28/2025

Poor thing’s been here over a year.

As if on cue, Duchess lifts her head and lets out a hiss, swatting at the air.

I love her.

“Liam, c’mere! You need this baby! Look at her!” I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet, rubbing my hands together. His eyes widen when he sees the cage I’m pointing at.

“Hell no. She’d take one look and Mutt and gobble him up.” He makes a chomping motion with his hands. “She’s at least twice his size.”

I attach her card to the cage under heavy scrutiny from the cat. She doesn’t hiss again, though. A point in her favor.

Liam and I finish attaching the profiles and take seats behind a nearby folding table to wait. A line has already formed at the gate so I’m sure we’ll be busy once this thing gets going.

“Did you have many pets growing up?” Liam asks, drumming his pen in a rhythm against the edge of the table.

I pause to mentally tally the dogs and cats we had. Living in the country, strays were always popping up.

“I think four or five dogs, and I don’t remember how many cats. They were always coming and going. And you? Before Mutt did you have pets?”