“I thought you might have some work for me.” I added quickly, “You don’t even need to pay me. I’ve got money. I just want to help.”
He looked tired, but his smile was warm. “I never turn down help.”
Looking at everything he’d taken on all by himself, I wondered if that was true, but I didn’t call him on it. A man needs his pride. “Back yard?”
“I did today’s pickup, but if you could leash-walk the rescue dogs? They need more leash time and some training. Turning them out in the yard to romp is good exercise, but Tigger in particular is getting too rowdy. He needs some one-on-one time.”
“I’m better with cats than dogs, but I can try.”
“Here.” Arthur opened one side of his front closet to reveal hooks full of leashes and harnesses. He pulled out a fanny pack and a leash.
“Dogs wear fanny packs?”
“Ha. They wish. It’s for you. It’s full of treats. That way, you can use one hand on the leash and have a supply for rewards.” He buckled the strap around my waist with the pack in front. With some guys, that would’ve been a come-on, an excuse to put hands on me, but I got zero vibe from Arthur. Probably straight. A pity, because he was a sweet guy, although he wasn’t really my type.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t let Tigger jump up and stick his nose in the pouch, though. Keep the leash short.” Arthur looked me up and down. “Maybe try walking him in the yard first, so if he pulls you over, he can’t get loose. Tell him to heel and hold a treat down by your knee as you walk. After a few steps, let him have it, and grab another one. When you stop, say sit, and give him a treat when his butt hits the ground. Fifteen minutes of that for each of them.”
“That’s all?”
“For right now.” Arthur suddenly grinned. “It won’t be as simple as it sounds.”
“Can Mimsy hang out with the kittens again?”
“Sure. They need adult-cat social time, and she’s good with them. My Bluebell doesn’t like being pounced on.”
Mimsy thought kitten playtime was a blast, although she’d bop them with a closed paw if they got too rough. Probably a good lesson for the little furballs. I took her along to the kitten room, surprised when I opened the door. “Hey, there’s less of them.” I counted six.
“They’re old enough for new homes. If you hear of someone who wants a kitten, let me know.” He rubbed his face. “The feral mama just had five, so I have an unending supply.”
“Oh. Sure.” I set Mimsy down and she romped over to the nearest kitten, spanked its butt, and set off running with the little one in pursuit. “Have fun, baby.”
Leash training Tigger and the other two foster dogs turned out to be more sweaty and hairy work than I expected. Tigger was too thickheaded to figure out where the treats came from, and he just plunged, leaped up, and wiggled from general attitude. I felt accomplished when he heeled around the yard and sat at the end, even if it was due to me stuffing his face every ten steps. Jett was easier. Solomon was the brains of the group and I had to work to keep his long collie face out of the treat pouch. By the time I’d done fifteen minutes with each of them and gotten at least one long stretch of heeling and sitting, I was hairy and dog-slobbered.
Not normally a problem, but I’d lost access to my shower and I already had four days of road dirt underneath. I went down to the living room to ask Arthur what I could do next, feeling like a tramp next to his tidiness. Of course, he was losing the dog-fur battle too, but his skin was pale and clean, his hair sleek and tidy in its ponytail. Unlike me.
He looked up from his computer, set on a desk under the window, and slipped off headphones. “Hey, how’d it go?”
“Okay. Tigger just wants to play, Jett was fair, Solomon’s too smart for his own good, but he sits perfectly.”
“Sounds about right. They need homes with someone to spend more time with them.” He sighed.
“You could ask for more volunteers. Folks like to play with dogs.”
“Yeah, but this is my home. I don’t want a bunch of strangers going through all the time.” He held up a hand. “Oh, not you. You’re not a stranger anymore. But day to day, new people?” He shook his head.
“Have you thought any more about the shelter idea?” I might be mad at Theo, but if he really meant his offer of giving Arthur property, I’d grant that Theo’s heart was in the right place. For the animals, not for me.
“All the time. Seems like a pipe dream, though.” Arthur looked me over. “You want to clean up before you play with the cats?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Bathroom’s that way.” He waved at a door.
Don’t ask about a shower.Man, I’d gotten spoiled. “You got a towel I can use if I wash up a bit?”
“Sure.” He stood and came over, eyeing me. “You don’t need to tell me, but do you have a safe place to stay?”
