A Secret to Shatter by Katie O’Connor

Chapter Thirteen

“You sure you want to do this?” Honey asked Ira. She glanced around his big yard. It was an enormous, manicured space cleared from the forest outside of town. The yard was fenced in white rail fencing. Behind the house, out of sight, was a small barn and an equipment shed. Right now, both were empty. Ira had told Honey he wanted to get a couple horses of his own, plus a dirt bike, quad, and snowmobile. Clearly, he had big plans for his new home.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ira asked, a puzzled frown lined his face.

“It’s just a big decision, taking responsibility for another life.”

Ira laughed aloud and nudged Honey with is shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. It’s a dog. Every farm needs a dog. I’m not a farm yet, I’ve got two barn cats coming from a neighbor. A momma and a kitten. It’ll be good for them all to arrive about the same time. That way, they’re all adapting at once. It can make the transition easier for some. The cats are already used to dogs, so I’ll just have to find a dog who doesn’t mind cats.”

She wasn’t sure his logic was one hundred percent right, but it was his place and if a dog was wanted, a dog they’d get. She loved critters of all types. She spent too much time on the computer to have a dog, and hadn’t yet bonded with a cat, leaving her pet free. For now.

“Okay then. I’m game to help you find a dog. What are we looking for?”

“Mid-sized dog who will be good with kids and cats. Not too small, but not a Great Dane either. It will be part guard dog to warn when predators are close, but will also be my companion.”

“Can a dog differentiate between coyotes and deer? Or will it be barking all the time? I know a lot of dogs in town bark at everything and everyone. There’s a Chihuahua on my walk home who barks itself hoarse when I go by. You think he’d adapt; I often visit his owners.” She shook her head. She loved dogs, but untrained yappers made her nuts, no matter what size.

“Training. It’s all about training. I spent some time with an elite canine unit when I served. You can train a dog to do anything. I intend to spend a lot of time with Fido. I’ve already checked and he’s welcome on the Bar 3. Working with well disciplined dogs is great training technique.”

“Nice. Shall we go?” She’d rather hang around with Ira, drinking iced tea and chatting, but she had to work later. For the first time she could recall, she wanted more to her life than work. She wanted, seriously desired, a man of her own, and Ira might just fit the bill.

Ira studied her for a moment; a half smile on his lips. “Honestly? I’d rather stay and chat with you, but Bow Wow Meow is only open three days a week for pickup. They’re short staffed and over populated right now.”

“I’ve heard they’re looking to find a new owner. The folks running it now are ready to retire.” It saddened her that Coyote Creek might lose its rescue agency unless someone else stepped up to the plate. She’d do it, but she already had two jobs.

“Closing the rescue agency would leave an extra burden on Riley, He takes in strays at his vet clinic all the time. I don’t know how he does it,” Ira stated, sounding disheartened. He stood and offered his hand. “Let’s do this. I’m excited to meet my new friend.”

She took his hand, loving how it was gentle, and calloused under hers. They walked hand in hand to his Jeep. He opened her door and held her hand while she climbed in. She didn’t need the assistance, but the gentlemanly gesture made her feel valuable and treasured. She liked it.

Bow Wow Meow, the animal shelter, sat ten miles south of town on a busy gravel road. Situated on a small acreage, it was run by Betty and Hans Neumeier, a couple in their late sixties. Hans had retired from being a hunting guide and sold his business to Garth Gunderson a decade ago after training Garth in the business. Once retired he helped Betty run the shelter their daughter had started before marrying and moving away.

“This place needs a bit of love,” Honey said as they parked in the empty lot in front of a triple garage which had been converted to kennel spaces and a storefront.

“It does indeed. I can’t believe they don’t charge an adoption fee. They just give the animals away.”

“And people aren’t generous enough to think of donating to help them make their expenses. Oh, it makes me mad,” Honey grumbled.

“You actually get mad? I didn’t know you had it in you.” Ira winked teasingly.

“Actually, a lot of things irk me. I’ve learned to help change them when I can and let them go when I can’t. I donate to Bow Wow Meow regularly. I even sew up the odd pet bed from old clothing. Nothing fancy, just durable for plenty of washes.”

She studied the house and the converted garage. Both needed a good coat of paint and some repair work. She wondered if the Neumeier’s planned to move away or just stop running the shelter. Fixing this place up would take a bit of work but it would be worth it. The yard itself was well manicured. A neat row of fruit trees marched along beside the well-mown grass. Flowering plants flowed out of the gardens and hanging pots. There was a small greenhouse in the distance, they must grow their own plants from seed.

She wandered toward the door into the shelter, enjoying the sun and the light breeze. Pines along the edge of the driveway lent their scent to the aura of peace surrounding the yard.

Inside, was chaos.

Cats meowed and dogs barked excitedly.

Every single cage was occupied, some by two and three animals. Bow Wow Meow was a no-kill shelter. Ira was right, the shelter was overloaded. Maybe she’d check out the cats while she was here. Just to ease to burden.

“Welcome, to Bow Wow Meow,” Betty greeted them as they entered.

“Hi, Betty.” Honey grinned. “This is my friend Ira. He’s looking for a dog and I’m going to check out the cats, if that’s okay.”

Ira gave her a funny look, as if her decision to adopt had startled him. She winked back, making him smile as if they shared a secret. To her heart, it felt like a special moment.

“Excellent. Are you looking for adults? They’re so much harder to rehome than youngsters. Everyone loves a puppy or a kitten.”

“Young enough to be easily trainable,” Ira responded. “But I don’t want the hassle of training a pup. Maybe a year or two. Not too old.”

“Perfect. We have a number of what I like to call teenagers. Two to three years old. Some have behavioral issues; most of which will be easily corrected. We have an excellent training school and it’s not just for puppies.”

“Show me who you’ve got. The only requirements are he’ll need to get along with cats and kids.”

“Oh, you two have children? You should have brought them.”

“Oh, no!” Honey and Ira responded in unison.

They looked at each other and laughed. Ira gestured for Honey to speak.

“Um, we’re not together. We’re friends, that’s all. We don’t have children.” Honey explained.

“Yet,” Ira added with a grin.

“Okay,” Betty said slowly. “Why don’t you wander past the cages and talk to the dogs? Get a feel for those you’d like to get to know better. Sometimes, the bond is instantaneous.”

Slowly, Ira walked through the crowded room; stopping at each pen to speak to the occupants and read their information tag. “What in the world is that?” he asked, pointing to a wildly spotted black and white dog.

“Wow, he’s weird looking,” Honey exclaimed coming to stand in front of the cage.

“That’s Buffalo Bill. As near as we can figure, without running a costly genetics test, he’s part Mudi and part Husky.”

“What’s a Mudi?” Ira held his closed fist toward the cage, letting the dog sniff him. The dog’s tail wagged and he tilted his head sideways.

“Bill is probably full grown. Mudi’s are Hungarian. They live to be about 14. By our best guess, Bill is three. He’s 40 pounds, heavy for a Mudi, but we expect that’s from the Husky side.”

“What’s the Mudi temperament?” Honey asked.

“Patient and loyal. And Bill here is great with the other dogs and cats. It’s a shame he’s here. He’s very friendly, and outgoing. We found him chained to the front door three months ago. He’s still here because, frankly, with his unusual coloring, all those spots on his chest, face and feet, he’s not the handsomest dog we’ve ever had. A lot of people have commented he reminds them of those wild black and white African dogs.” She shrugged. “He’s also a bit jumpy. He needs a firm hand to calm him. Though I have to say, he’s never nipped or growled at anyone.”

“I’ll take him.” Ira reached through the cage to pet Bill who eagerly leaned into Ira’s hand.

“What? Don’t you want to play with him first? Take him for a walk?”

“Nope. I like him. He likes me.”

“I’m going to have to insist,” Betty said. “We never let an animal go home without a visit.” She seemed very concerned.

“Okay. I’ll play with him first. But consider him sold.”

“Oh, no. We don’t charge for adoptions. Coyote Creek is a small town, we know practically everyone.”

“Except us,” Honey said quietly.

“True. But it’s still free. Hans and I are just happy to find these animals good homes.”

“Well, then. Pull Bill out and I’ll play with him. Before I make a donation to the shelter and take him home.”

Betty beamed, and Honey hid a smile at Ira’s action. He was a good man and obviously recognized a good cause. Of course, his generosity shouldn’t surprise her, he had spent several years serving his country and would still be there if not for his injury. And to consider a rescue when so many people were only interested in expensive pure breeds? Swoon-worthy. Totally enticing and dreamy.

She sighed a happy sigh. She might have, finally, found a dreamy man. “How about if I check out the cats while you play with Buffalo Bill?”

“Sounds good to me.” Ira paused. “I think I’ll just keep him at Bill. The whole name seems too formal somehow. He’s not a formal guy. He’s simple and straight forward. Like me. A regular Joe.”

“And you can tell that already?” Honey laughed. “He’s not even out of the cage yet.”

“Oh, how little you know. Bill and I have bonded deeply already.” Ira opened the pen and let Bill hop down. The mid-sized black and white dog jumped up and down, circling Ira excitedly, tail wagging hard enough to hurt when it whacked Honey.

“Bill, sit.” Ira held out a hand, fingers flat. Bill looked up at him, jumped twice and sat. He quivered with excitement but stayed in one place. Ira smiled. “Good dog. See, I told you we had bonded. He’s going to be a great companion.”

“How’d you do that so quickly?” Betty asked. “I’ve been trying for months to train him.”

“I don’t know. One thing I learned with the military canine unit is some bonds are meant to be and some dogs can only have one handler. I’m hoping that’s not the case with Bill, but somehow, I knew we’d get along.”

“I’m impressed,” Honey praised as she walked toward the opposite side of the room where the cats were housed. She passed several cages of cuddly, bouncy kittens. She kept going. No kitten for her, if she was adopting, it was going to be a mature cat. The first cat was a beautiful white Himalayan. Nope. Too much maintenance with all that fur. The next, a hairless, was cute in a homely sort of way. He took one look at her, curled up in a ball and tucked his head under his naked tail.

Cats were always standoffish, but he was too much. She moved onto the next enclosure. Two pure black cats lounged like Sphynxes at the back of the enclosure, eyes closed and ears perked upwards.

She moved along and stopped abruptly three cages later. A scarred and battered tabby sat beside a chunky orange and white shorthair. She looked them over. The battered one called to her, its meow piteous and sad. Honey reached out her hand to the tabby. With a twist of her wrist, Honey fit her hand through the bars and stroked the tabby’s ears.

As with Ira moments ago, the bond was instantaneous.

“I’ll take her.”

“Excellent. She’s not pretty, but she is very friendly.”

“Can I take her out?”

“Go ahead. I’ll just grab some forms for you to fill out while you two get to know your new family members.”

After Betty walked away, Honey opened the cage and picked up the tabby who purred until she got to the edge of the cage. She hissed wildly and jumped back and huddled behind her orange cell mate.

Honey tried again. And again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Honey lamented when Betty returned. “Maybe she’s not the cat for me.”

“She’s been in a cage with Buster for six months. Perhaps he feels like family. Try taking him out.”

Honey reached in again and stroked the duo before carefully picking up the orange cat. She eased him forward. The tabby purred and walked alongside him and hopped to the floor when Honey dropped slowly onto her backside with him in her lap.

The cats cuddled together, purring like crazy.

“Oh, damn. How can I separate these two? They’re best friends.” She sighed, then laughed. “Okay, hook me up with the two of them.” She looked at Ira and shook her finger at him. “You do know I had no intention of getting a pet today. I mean, I’ve considered getting one. In the future. How can I resist these adorable faces?” She kissed the cats one after the other.

“If I sit in your lap and purr, will I get a kiss?” Ira teased.

Unable to resist his charming grin, Honey laughed with him. “I guess it depends on how well your dog gets along with my cats. Bring him over, but keep a tight hold on his collar just in case.”

Ira, hand in Bill’s collar, led him to Honey’s side. The calico reached out and tapped him on the nose, but without extending her claws. Bill obediently dropped to the floor and lay with his nose against Honey’s knees. “Tawny, be nice,” Honey chided, suddenly naming her cat.

“Well, if that isn’t the darndest thing,” Betty exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re going to be friends.”

“Yes, they are,” Honey said, “Bill, Tawny, and Buster - friends for life.”

“Can I bring him over when I come visit your apartment?” Ira asked with a sly grin.

“Are you angling for an invitation?” Honey quirked her eyebrow.

“Is it working?” Ira asked hopefully.

She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his boyish charm was working. Entirely too well.

Honey purchased a cat climbing tree, food, food and water dishes, litter and a box, and more toys than she ever imagined she’d be buying. She added a substantial tip for the shelter. A donation in gratitude for their gift of her new companions. Ira’s similar donation made her smile.

“I was going to ask you to lunch today, but I suppose we should get these critters home,” Ira said.

“Oh, I would have loved to go for lunch. But I suppose you’re right about our new friends.” She paused. “Unless you want to bring Bill over for a visit. I can whip up some food. He can get to know the cats while we eat.”