With my free hand, I flip the book to where the ribbon is settled between the pages and begin to read through the notes, associating the photos with the names and their noted preferences.
Uncle Jim always said that the pasts of these animals didn’t matter; it was their present and future we needed to focus on. Adhering to that, I don’t read their background notes, only the important things.
The small brindle-coated dog with the big, upright ears is a male named Danko, a miniature Pinscher and Chihuahua mix who loves to snuggle and play. There’s a note that he loves some odd vegetables. He’s been here for a few years now and is estimated at eight-years-old.
Crooze, the giant black dog with big, floppy ears, is an English Lab and a “water bug.” A note to be prepared if taking him to the lake, because he won’t want to get out, makes me laugh. Another note that he’s a counter-surfer has me shaking my head. He’s been here for almost half of his ten years.
There’s a cat on the next page, one I haven’t come across yet. Beautiful and small in stature, her name is listed as “Dini,” short for Houdini. Her fur is a medium gray, and she looks fluffy with stark green eyes. She’s listed as twelve-years-old and a former outdoor cat, a real huntress. There’s a note to take care if letting her back outside, that she may want to stay there, and another that she is very small, only around six pounds!
Remy—orRemington,actually—is the Boston Terrier female who made herself at home in my lap downstairs. She’s noted asbeing around five years old, with a good temperament, and loves to nap in the sun, either outside or in.
The black German Shepherd-like dog is named Fruitbat, which makes me blink. But looking at her picture with that shiny black coat and those big, tall ears, I find myself nodding at the name choice. She looks just like one of those cute bat memes. She’s noted as being happy and very cat-friendly. And something I didn’t notice in the kitchen: Most of her tail is missing. It’s noted she was born that way around six years ago.
Then, there’s Pie, the male horse I met outside, listed as twenty years of age. My uncle notes that he’s very gentle and kind, and has an obsession with Pringles. The potato chips. Huh.
Gator is next, and it’s noted that his nickname is Chomp, but he’s never bitten anyone or anything, and Jim has no idea where this came from. Gator is about eleven and loves all animals and plays with the dogs.
The little cat I met downstairs, Odin, is next. It’s noted that he’s only two and has been here basically his entire life. He required a lot of medical care when Jim took him in, and Odin lost his eyesight very young due to his prior circumstances. But it’s noted he gets along great, and he’s rarely without that fuzzy blue toy with the googly eye.
And last, but not least, is Nikki, the little black dog currently snoozing in my lap. She’s listed as a Patterdale Terrier at around seven-years-old. She’s as fast as a bullet, and a real “law dog,” my uncle notes. She’s the first to break up any disagreements between the animals and will bite a butt if necessary.
I peer down at this angelic, napping dog and stifle a giggle. So this little cutie is going to be my enforcer. How about that?
I begin rummaging through the other paperwork on the desk, finding mostly receipts and bills, and begin compiling another list, this time on my phone. I have a lot of people to contact toensure that everything is up to date and that nothing fell behind after Uncle Jim passed.
Lilly, Lloyd, and their pack went above and beyond, helping to care for the animals while I got my own life in order to travel out here and take over for good. I wouldn’t expect anyone to pay the bills on my behalf. But it’s Saturday, and most businesses are closed in a small town like this.
Just another thing to get done next week.
A little twinge in my chest forces a sigh from me.
This transition is going to be difficult. It’s going to be a whole new world for me, and for the animals.
But I’m going to make it work. I’ll do everything I can to make it work.
And, without my family.
Being the baby, the only girl, and only Omega to come from the Pepper pack has always come with its own issues. Even in a huge city like Los Angeles, just about everyone knew all of us on sight. The rare city-dwelling pack, from a long line of pack lineages, surrounded by monogamous pairings, has always been an oddity, a fascination. If my family hadn’t been so wealthy and successful, I doubt we’d have been accepted the way we are, instead looked at like some weirdos. Cultists.
And don’t get me wrong, we would still get those looks. My parents are asked inappropriate questions all the time by people who either don’t know any better or don’t care about politeness.
We’ve all learned to take it in stride.
My whole life, the Pepper name has haunted me, loomed over my soul like a dark shadow, dictating everything I did in my life. Every decision.
Until now.
Leaving my cushy job in L.A. to come to this “podunk” town and take care of pets in need is not what anormalPepper would do. Only that outcast, Jim.
But it’s what Adley would do, too. What Iamdoing. It’s the destiny that I’d dreamed of since I was a little kid, the only one of the Pepper children who spent time with “crazy” Uncle Jim.
Crazy for wanting to pave his own way in life. For wanting to help make the world a better place.
My brothers were always too busy playing summer sports or going to some business camp for kids to prepare for corporate life. They never visited.
But this is where I belong. Where my heart feels free.
Uncle Jim obviously knew this, despite my not visiting in a long time. He must have heard the deflation in my voice when we’d talk on the phone, the helplessness. The depression.
