Jane had recently wound up running an animal welfare fund with a sizable endowment. She’d put in a lot of work with animal control people throughout the area. With the financial help of the foundation, they established a no-kill policy at the local shelter and stepped up adoption efforts, not just in Kittery Harbor but all through Elmet County. Every week, Sunny saw advertisements with pictures of furry adoption candidates in the
But Jane wasn’t trying to get herself on television; she really was trying to help stray and abandoned animals. She took her position seriously, and she certainly wasn’t getting a lot in pay.
“The way Martin saw it, I must be rolling in dough, and I ought to spread it around.” Jane’s voice grew almost jagged, earning her a concerned look from Shadow. “He thought I should bring him in as a consultant, with remuneration in line with all his years of experience. A low six-figure fee would be just fine.”
“He sounds like a piece of work,” Sunny said quickly, hoping to head off the icy expression congealing on Jane’s face. “So, is there anything else I should do for Shadow’s foot?”
“Huh?” Jane blinked for a second, her vengeful train of thought obviously derailed. “Oh. No, just try the oil massage for a week. If he doesn’t show improvement, then we’ll try something more medical.”
Anger crept back into her voice. “Martin, of course, would skip to that step right away. He never saw a procedure he didn’t like. The more expensive, the better.”
“Well, thanks, Jane.” Sunny brought the carrier back onto the table. She wanted to get Shadow out and away from Jane’s too tightly clenched hands.
3
Sunny barely got home before the snowstorm the weather forecasters had been hyping came roaring in. She lugged the carrier to the front door of her house through stinging wind-borne snowflakes, let Shadow out in the foyer, and turned to face what looked like a wall of snow suddenly falling outside.
Her father appeared in the arched entranceway into the living room. “So, you’re back,” he said. “You, too, hairball.”
Shadow slipped around him and disappeared into the room.
“How’s he doing?” Mike asked.
“Jane suggested a little home therapy.” Sunny slipped the hood of her coat up over the baseball cap she was wearing. “Anything you particularly want from the store, Dad? I figure I’d better get out there before it gets any worse.”
“Not a problem,” Mike told her. “I took care of it already. Went to the store, got some milk—skim, so don’t get excited—and a few other things on the grocery list.” He sounded very pleased with himself. “Including the makings for a stew. Figure that would work pretty well with the weather outside.”
Sunny agreed, and with plentiful supplies, they spent the weekend hunkered down. The storm was fierce but brief, dropping a few inches of the white stuff before blowing out to sea. Sunny and her dad didn’t mind much—except that Mike missed his heart-healthy hike. A neighbor came by with a snowblower to clear their walk and driveway, so neither Sunny nor her dad had to shovel. They had movies to watch, and more than enough ingredients to re-create Mom’s famous pressure cooker stew recipe.
And, of course, Sunny had Shadow to play with. He still wasn’t running and jumping so much. That eliminated some of their rougher games. But he definitely seemed to be getting around with less pain.
When her dad watched Shadow purring like a motorboat while Sunny did the warm oil massage on Sunday, Mike grumped, “You’re coddling that cat.”
“Well, I think warm oil beats superglue,” she replied, explaining about Jane’s treatment for torn pads. “I used to use something similar to close up paper cuts. The stuff stung like blazes.”
“Superglue on his paws . . .” Mike’s voice trailed off and his eyes got a bit dreamy, going from Shadow to the living room mantel.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sunny warned.
“That’s easy enough for you to say,” Mike said, only half joking. “You’ve never had him launch a sneak attack when you’re heading to the bathroom for a three a.m. pee. Can you blame me for wanting him to stay put sometimes?”
*
