“This is so much stuff! I can’t believe you do this every month!” Hannah says, closing the tailgate of my truck once we’ve loaded all the supplies, which includes eleven assorted bags of food, fourteen boxes of cat litter and a bunch of treats. “I mean, this is amazing! You really are a stand up guy!” she says, landing a soft kiss on my blushing cheek. “Now, off to the shelter we go!” she says, with a bounce in her step to the passenger door.
A short, ten minute drive later, with Hannah barely containing her excitement, we pull into the rescue’s parking lot, and I make my way to the back where they take larger donations. Parking the truck by the door, I make my way to the donation door with Hannah right behind me. Before I can even knock, Beth opens the door. And before I can even ask how she knew I was there, she says, “Hiya Ian! Susan called, telling me you were on your way with your monthly donation, and to let me know that you have a lovely sidekick with you on this run.” Not letting me answer, she turns to Hannah. “You must be Hannah! It’s so nice to meet you. I hear you’re interested in adopting a new best friend! I think I might have the perfect little ball of fur for you if you’re interested in kittens! How about we let the men do what the men do,” she says as her husband Ron joins us outside to help me unpack all this stuff. “And us women will go see that little one-eyed beauty out back!”
Looking back at me with a giggle, I give Hannah a nod and a hand wave, telling her that Ron and I have it all covered.
Chapter 33
I want to bring them all home. I understand why Ian does this every month. These poor little babies. Although, I must say, they are spoiled at this rescue. Ron and Beth treat all of them as if they’re their own pets. Walking in, I was expecting to see lines of cages and kennels, but I was amazed to see a series of small living rooms with more than one cat in each room.
Every room we passed on our way to see this white cat has a window, a couch, coffee table, and way too many toys, scratch posts, and cat trees. The front of every room is glass so you could see everything going on.
“This place is amazing!”
“Thank you. When I was a little girl, I begged and begged my dad for a cat. He finally gave in and brought me to the local rescue and my little nine-year-old self couldn’t understand how or why all the cats were in small little cages stacked one on top of the other. I spent weeks crying over the fact that he wouldn’t let me bring more than one home. He told me if I was so worked up about it, that I should change it. So for years after that, even when I moved out and got married and had kids of my own, mydad and I would sit for hours planning out what a rescue should look like. When he passed, I learned that he had taken a large amount of life insurance with the purpose of me being able to open a place like this. Hence why it’s calledJay’s Dream,” Beth explains.
“Wow! That’s amazing,” I say in complete awe. I can see why Ian chose this place to help out on a regular basis.
Stopping at a door, Beth turns to me and says, “The set-up through these doors is a little different. Not every cat likes being with other cats. This room is set up a little bit more like what a PetSmart adoption center looks like. It’s where we keep our bonded pairs, new moms, and cats that just like to hang out alone.”
Pushing through the door, I see that Beth downplayed how much these cats are also living it up. Again each stall reaches from floor to ceiling and is about three to four feet wide. Every single stall has a window, overlooking a series of bird baths and bird feeders. I notice a few cats too enthralled by the bird show outside to notice us walk in. Again, each little cat apartment has toys, scratchers, and multiple beds.
“You clearly like your cats; they seem to be living the life here,” I say, making Beth laugh.
“That is certainly our goal. We have a great adoption rate and an amazing retention rate, meaning that very, very rarely do people return their cats to us after adopting them. I like to think it’s because our cats get used to living in home-like environments here and we have daily volunteers come in and play with them. Even the ones in this section get taken out of their stalls almost daily to go hang out in one of the sitting rooms we have on the other side of this door so they can get comfortable with watching TV or just sitting in a person’s presence.”
Passing by a few more stalls, stopping to play along the glass wall with a few of them, we finally get to the last stall at the end of the hall. It looks empty; it has toys, beds, food, and a water bowl, but no cat.
“Here we are. She’s a little shy,” Beth explains, opening up the door. “She usually likes to hide in this box, let me just try to get her down.”
Stepping aside to let Beth grab this cat, I turn to the stall beside it giggling as I see the cat rolling on its back juggling a small plush mouse in its front paws.
“Here we go. Why don’t we take her into one of those sitting rooms I mentioned.”
Following Beth through another door, I don’t spot the cat in her arms. Opening a door to a small room with some books, a couch, and TV, she says, “How about I leave you ladies here and go make sure the men aren’t making a mess of my supply room?”
Before I can answer, she deposits the smallest cat I have ever seen onto the couch and closes the door behind her. She can’t be more than five or six pounds.
“Well, aren’t you gorgeous,” I whisper, slowly raising a hand to let her sniff me. “Aren’t you just the prettiest girl?” I say, taking a seat on the couch myself as I keep whispering sweet nothings to her, hoping she decides she likes me too, because there’s no way I’m leaving without this cat.
We never had pets growing up—my parents were against anything with fur coming into the house. I had begged and begged for a dog after the thunderstorm incident, being too afraid to stay at home alone, but they never budged. I moved out from their home into a dorm room, so I couldn’t get a pet then, and then I moved in with Lucas. I pestered and pestered him for a cat, but he never budged, saying they were not the pet for him. I asked what kind of pet was for him, and he said none, that animals were dirty. At one point I just stopped bothering.
Next thing I know, she’s timidly walking onto my lap, settling down. She’s still a little tense, not fully relaxed, but that changes the minute I start rubbing her between the ears. It doesn’t take long before her eyes are closed and her head is stretched back, begging me not to stop.
“You are definitely coming home with me. But now, what to name a sweet girl like you?” I ask.
Both of us look to the door when we hear the handle jingle to see Ian softly walk through the door. Once again, my breath catches and butterflies flutter low in my belly at seeing him. He’s mine, I know he’s mine, yet I can’t help but react every time my eyes land on him after any amount of time apart.
“Hey there, Pretty Girl.” And with those four softly spoken words, I feel my cheeks redden and smile curve my lips. “I see you girls are getting along,” he remarks, coming to sit next to us, putting an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m bringing her home,” I say, making him laugh.
“Is that so? Have you asked her if she’s okay with that?”
Before I can even answer, the cat turns her head towards Ian and lets out a long meow.
“I think she answered that for you!” Ian says, letting out a soft laugh as I fall more in love with my new best friend.
“All I need to do now is find her a name,” I say pensively.
