Sometimes, he’ll project his thoughts, but that’s still very different from what I feel through the bond. I worry he’ll be able to figure out some of the shit we’ve been doing through it, but Skylar doesn’t seem to be concerned.
He told me Koen can’t pick up my thoughts, and since I don’t feel guilty about our bullshitery, it shouldn’t come through the bond. We did what we had to, and it’s true, I have absolutely no regrets.
Edna begins to explain to the front desk person why we're here. She made arrangements with the shelter already, but it doesn’t appear as if the manager is aware we’re here yet.
“Hi, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I’m Fritz,” a man says with curly blonde hair and glasses.
He’s coming out of the door which seems to house the rest of the shelter. His jeans have seen better days, and his long sleeved shirt looks like it’s more meant to protect him than anything fashionable. It makes sense with how much I was just griping to myself about cat scratches.
“It’s no problem at all, Fritz,” Edna says with a professional and carefree smile.
She’s in charge of hockey players that regularly fuck up. I have a feeling she’s completely fine handling a manager who wasn’t here the second she was.
“What’s the best way for us to see the shelter?” she asks. “We’d like a tour first so we can see how things are run, and then Skylar, Rhodes, and Koen would like to get some photos to help you raise some money for the shelter.”
“Photos how?” the man asks.
“I’d love to play with any animals that need some extra love,” Koen says. “If one of them needs a bath, I’m up for that too. I’m dressed comfortably for a reason.”
The three of us dressed in medium gray sweatsuits. It hides dirt well and it’s comfortable. Our tennis shoes also serve the same purpose.
“Exactly,” Edna says with a nod. “We have one camera man with us to take photos of the guys interacting with the animals in whatever manner they’re comfortable with. This is as much an opportunity to volunteer our team as it is to get funds for your organization and highlight the work you’re doing.”
“Oh. Well, we always need dogs walked, cats snuggled, and puppies socialized. It never feels as if there’s enough time for everything,” Fritz admits. “I wondered because we’ve had people use us for their own publicity purposes with little return.”
“I don’t work like that,” Edna says adamantly. “I want this to be an equal partnership. I apologize if I didn’t make that clear over the phone.”
Fritz appears exhausted as he pulls off his black rimmed glasses and shakes his head as he cleans them.
“You did. I’m sorry. I feel like I’m always running in circles,” he sighs. “Let’s get to it, shall we? I’ll point out who needs a bath, who needs snuggles or a walk, and go from there. It’ll be nice to have some extra hands. It snowed yesterday, which limits which animals can go outside. However, we have a covered area for the smaller breeds so they can stretch their legs.”
Fritz returns his glasses to their place on his nose, and I decide I feel bad for the guy. He obviously cares deeply for the animals at the shelter, there simply aren’t enough resources for them.
Unlocking the door, he ushers us through. We leave our camera guy in the waiting room for now, which allows us to getan idea of what the shelter is working with without having to school our features.
As we walk through the facility, I have to admit the kennels all look really clean, and the animals make me smile.
“Is that a potbellied pig?” I ask, peeking into one of the areas.
“That’s Harold,” Fritz says with a grin. He relaxed once he realized we really are invested in seeing and helping the animals. “He’s a turd. Sorry, but he’s so intelligent, it’s hard not to laugh when he does things like steal your keys out of your pocket.”
“No sh—, ah, shoot,” I say, wincing.
Fritz waves away my apology as he watches Harold with amusement.
“He needs a bath, but you’d need a raincoat to do it. He’ll soak you completely, which is also why he’s a turd,” Fritz says with a laugh. “Let me show you some of the other animals.”
He walks us by parrots, puppies, older dogs, and cats. I have a mental list of animals I want to play with, and I think that Koen wants to bathe the big German shepherd we just passed. His heart flip flopped in happiness when we saw him.
I think Skylar is going to end up playing with the kittens, which is fine as long as the cat distribution system doesn’t choose us to take one home. With my luck, it would stalk me around the house and jump on my head while I’m sleeping.
Shuddering in disgust, I shake my head.
“What was that about?” Koen asks under his breath.
“I don’t like cats,” I say unrepentantly. “I always feel like they’re waiting to pounce on me.”
Fritz hides his smile when he hears me, saying, “Definitely not a cat person then. What would you like to do?”
