“No.” I stood, brushing at the fuzz on my good jeans. “I came to work.”
Arthur touched my back, a fleeting graze of his fingertips. “They like you. That’s a good sign. Even Bluebell likes you, and she’s a judgy girl.” He picked the fuzzy cat up into his arms, and she stared at me, blue eyes wide, then blinked and purred at Arthur. He rubbed his cheek on her head and turned. “Come on this way. I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”
The little house included a kitten room, where Shane left Mimsy to play with the herd of furry feline babies Arthur had apparently hand-raised, and an adult cat room divided into three separate condos plus a few smaller crates. Shane asked after a pregnant one hiding in the back of her crate and was told she hadn’t had her kittens yet.
Three dogs— threemoredogs— lived in another back bedroom, and when we stepped out the kitchen door, the yard was divided into two sections with a fence between.
Arthur said, “Poop scooping is an eternal chore and there are lots of litter boxes, and then if you have more time, can you take out each of the back-room dogs separately and play with them? Throw the ball and stuff? Jett gets aggressive over sharing toys, so they can’t have any in the room and they need the play.”
“Aw, shucks,” Shane said. “The hardship of being asked to play with dogs.”
Arthur’s smile looked only half-wattage. “I appreciate that. I wish I had more time for them.”
“Dude, you’re doing a lot.”
“I guess. But I have to go earn some money to pay for this crew.”
“Are you heading out somewhere?” I asked, startled. This place seemed like pet heaven, but I wasn’t ready to be left in charge.
“No, I work from home. Medical transcription.” He waved back at the house. “All I need is good internet security and noise-canceling headphones.”
“Oh. Cool. But seriously, you should become a tax-deductible charity. Get donations,” I suggested. “It can’t be that hard to become a 501-c-3.” Arthur’s pet rescue was surely a worthy cause. I could even pay for a lawyer to help with the paperwork.
“I am non-profit. Or rather, Pam, the foster coordinator, is. But there’s always more pets. What we really need is more space— an actual shelter— but Pam says she doesn’t have the time and spoons to take on that project. Even without the cost, it’s too much work for her, physical and paperwork, like dealing with taxes if the shelter owns a property with employees and all. So we’re stuck with a bunch of fosters, like me.”
“I’d bet there aren’t a lot of fosters like you,” Shane said.
“Probably a good thing. My neighbors are laid-back, but some wouldn’t be.”
I looked at the houses on either side, similar modest bungalows with tidy but not landscaped yards. I could imagine seven barking dogs might not make a person popular. “If that Pam person won’t coordinate a shelter, maybe you should do it yourself.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Arthur looked shocked. “I’m not good talking with people and fundraising and all that.”
“We’re people.” Shane gestured between us. “You’re talking just fine.”
“One-on-one, yeah. Not speeches.”
“You’d need partners,” I told him. “Or at least helpers.”
“Hey.” Shane grinned. “Send that kid Kevin out to solicit donations. Tell him it’ll take wildlife-killing stray cats off the streets and I bet he’ll raise a million single-handed.”
Arthur chuckled. “He might. I don’t know.” He sobered, pulling in a slow breath. “Maybe the local vet would help. Louisa hates having to put a pet to sleep when it might be adoptable, just because no one has time and space for it.”
“Jesus, yeah, that’s awful.” Shane frowned darkly.
Do I want to jump in?I went with, “If you decide to go forward, I might know someone who could help with a location for you for cheap, maybe even free— a building you could afford.”
“Seriously?” Arthur stared at me.
“Yeah, I mean, no promises, but that would go a long way, right?”
“That would be…” Arthur hugged his arms across his chest. I could see his hands shaking. “It’s such a big idea, isn’t it? A local shelter always seemed impossible without Pam, but you almost make me believe we could do it.”
“I think you can. With enough help.” Shane was staring at me. I couldn’t read his expression. Not entirely positive, although I didn’t know why. “You’d want to start with a lawyer and find out how to get the nonprofit off the ground.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look, I know a local lawyer. He’s a good guy.” Wynn had helped me through all my ideas of what I wanted to do with my legacy, without ever making me feel stupid or unreasonable. “I’ll ask him what it would take to set up the corporation. I’m paying him for some work anyway. One extra hour won’t be a big deal.”
