Somehow, the woman’s face was both pasty and pink at the same time. “Oh, it’ll happen. We have God on our side.”
Kelsey’s anger flared like a lit match. “Oh really? Because I’m pretty sure God loves all creatures.”
“That house is full of killers,” the man interjected. “God holds no love for killers.” He had a creepy look about him that made Kelsey feel squeamish. He was wearing a tight sweatshirt with an iron-on picture of two dogs trapped in a savage embrace, teeth bared in ferocious snarls. The caption underneath read Not God’s creations.
Kelsey’s blood pressure was spiking. No good would come from talking to these people. And inside the house, there was important work to be done. She needed to focus her energy and attention on something that could make a difference. But the boiling-over-with-anger part of her couldn’t hold back. “I’m curious. Do you eat beef? Or wear leather? Or do you protest the existence of cows too?”
All five protesters looked at her like she was crazy.
“I’m just saying, when you’re done making a mess here, maybe you should protest outside a cattle farm. I’m sure you know the stats. Cows kill about as many people each year as dogs. Only there are a zillion more dog-and-people interactions than there are cow-and-people interactions, so statistically speaking, cows are far more dangerous to people than dogs. Even dogs like these that have been placed in fighting rings.”
The leader shook her head, her lip curling as if Kelsey were diseased. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I don’t?” Kelsey leaned forward, setting her hands on her hips. “Google it. And if you would kindly step off the grass, I won’t have to call the police. It’s a free country, and this is a public street. You’re welcome to stand there and protest to all the people not coming down this deserted street all day long. But step on our property, and I’ll have you arrested. It’s that simple.”
She turned and headed at a controlled walk toward the car. They tossed insults the whole way, calling her and the dogs a variety of nasty names. She kept her anger in check and took her time getting her bags out of the trunk, even pausing to check her phone.
Sticks and stones, Kelsey thought, heading inside and taking a deep, calming breath once the door was closed. If anything, their taunts had made her more determined to make a fantastic success out of this venture.
Chapter 9
Kurt could determine someone’s work ethic within ten minutes. So far, he was impressed with the group from the High Grove Animal Shelter, staff and volunteers alike. Kelsey gave the enclosure-building her all, even though she had to be exhausted from these first two packed days. In addition to her, six others showed up and stuck with the project till it was complete. This included Patrick, who was smart, strong as an ox, and a bit peculiar with his routines and general rigidity. Kurt was only half surprised when he learned Patrick had Asperger’s.
Donna and Mickey, two women in their fifties, worked hard but consistently made jokes that kept the mood light and fun. There was Jim, a retired electrician who Kurt was hoping would have a look around inside. The wiring seemed safe enough, but two different fuses had shorted since he’d arrived. There was also a retired couple, Barbara and Ron. After an hour of working alongside them, Kurt learned it was Barbara’s second marriage and Ron’s fourth. They’d only been married to each other a year and had met while volunteering at the shelter.
Kurt was pleased with the work the group had done, and it was only five thirty. Eventually, he’d cement the corner posts into the ground and bury eighteen inches of the galvanized mesh fencing underground to keep the dogs from digging out. For now, the runs would be a supervised way to give the dogs some much-needed time out of their kennels.
Afterward, the volunteers and Patrick stayed around, watching the first two dogs experience the ten-by-four-foot runs. Two of the runs were purposefully built side by side. These two runs would be a safe way to see if the dogs were truly able to get along with one another when they were ready for a greater level of socialization with other dogs. For now, only one of the side-by-side runs would be used. The third run stood alone at the back of the yard. The mess of a dog, the giant who was causing more commotion and concern than most others combined, was given the largest side of the joint run.
Kurt was hoping a good stretch of his long legs and some fresh air might take the dog’s edge off a little, but every time someone walked within ten feet of his run, the hair on his neck and upper back ruffled, and his tail stuck straight out. The massive dog sniffed and scent marked until it was hard to believe there was a hint of moisture left in him.
In the other run at the back of the yard, the lively Argentine mastiff was more interested in dropping into a play bow and dashing around the enclosure than he was in doing much scent marking. Like most Argentine mastiffs, he looked like a cross between a Great Dane and a boxer. He was eighty-five pounds of pure muscle and had the energy of a smaller, lighter dog. The vet had put him at about a year and a half. His sleek coat had minimal scars and none from cuts or bites that had been severe, indicating he hadn’t spent much time in the fighting rings.
Although Kurt wasn’t ready to share it aloud, he suspected the rambunctious dog would be easy to integrate into a new home, possibly even one with another dog.
The dog’s playfulness made him think of Zara, the last dog
