Page 6 of Rufus

Rufus was proved wrong about that, because the morning, at least, flew by.

There were over forty dogs currently in the shelter, twenty boarding while their owners were away on holiday, another ten or so who were left here on a daily basis while their owners were at work, the other ten all having been found abandoned for one reason or another and brought to the shelter by either the police or a vet.

Mia took them all in, along with a dozen cats and kittens, four hamsters, one hedgehog, and several tanks of fish.

Any of them, including the mistreated dogs, could be adopted by a new owner. But not before being first vetted by Mia and then thoroughly investigated by Rufus. Mia refused to allow any of the animals to go to a less than suitable home.

Rufus had a feeling that was because Mia had grown up thinking she had been abandoned, and she had no intention of any of her beloved dogs or the other animals in her care being cast out twice.

The shelter was pretty much financially self-sufficient thanks to the income received from the owners of the dogs who were weekly and daily boarders. If there was a need for any other monetary input, it came from Mia’s wealthy husband, her father, or both. As far as both Rufus and Darius were concerned, Mia’s happiness was of prime importance to both of them, and this shelter made her happy.

Once a month, Mia also hosted an open weekend to encourage people to come and take a look around the shelter and meet the animals. Always with the hope that some of them would adopt one or more of the menagerie living here full-time.

This following weekend was one of those occasions, and the rush and bustle in the animal shelter in preparation for the event, along with the day-to-day care of so many animals, meant everyone was rushed off their feet ensuring the pens and runs were clean and all the animals fed.

Even so, Rufus couldn’t help taking anxious glances at his wristwatch as he worked and waited for news of Mia and the baby. It had been hours now. But, as he recalled, Beth had been in labor for almost twenty-four hours with Emily/Mia.

“I’m going to the coffee shop over the road to pick up a sandwich for lunch, Mr. W. Can I get you anything?”

“Fuck!” Rufus cursed, having raised his head so quickly at the sound of Molly’s voice that he’d banged the side of his head on the open cupboard door overhead.

“Oops, I’m sorry.” She grimaced her concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He was the one responsible for leaving the cupboard door open as he unloaded the dishwasher of the now-clean bowls that had been used to feed the dogs earlier. “Why do you call me Mr. W?” It made him feel a hundred years old, especially coming from the vivacious and beautiful Molly.

A blush brightened her cheeks. “Well, you haven’t said I can call you Rufus, and Mr. Wynter really is too formal.”

“You can definitely call me Rufus,” he invited ruefully. “And a chicken and mayo sandwich for lunch sounds good.”

He looked out the window to see the two other members of staff on duty today supervising the large area out the back where several of the dogs were running about having fun together.

Including the white West Highland terrier he had taken a shine to this morning when he cleaned out the dog’s run. The Westie was cute and very friendly. The temporary nameplate outside his kennel said his name was Angus, which Rufus found very amusing, considering his own name and those of his cousins.

“What’s his story?” He nodded toward the Westie when Molly came to stand beside him to also look out the window.

Her jaw tightened. “His owners went away on holiday to Tenerife for two weeks and left him tied up outside in the backyard with no kennel to shelter from the sun or rain, and with only a bucket of water and a bag of dry food.” Molly wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Both of which ran out within the first few days, apparently,” she added disapprovingly. “He was in a terrible state when the police were called in by a neighbor. They took him to the local vet, who checked him out, then kept him for a few extra days to clean and rehydrate and feed him, until he was back to his full bouncy self.”

“Selfish bastards.” Rufus scowled his disapproval of such cruelty shown toward a dog whom he personally knew was very loving and trusting of humans.

Molly gave a grim nod. “Mia has an arrangement with the local police and vet so that any animals, dogs in particular, that have been ill-treated but later released should be brought here while they’re waiting to bring charges against the owners.” Rufus’s use of “bastards” could be heard substituted for “owners” in the vehemence of Molly’s tone.

Rufus knew about Mia’s arrangement with the local police and vet, and he couldn’t say he was particularly happy about it. Not when it could put his daughter in danger from repercussions from the owners of the abused pets.

Or possibly Molly, now that she was living over the kennels.

He’d done all he could to ensure everyone here was safe. Firstly, by insisting, when Mia opened the shelter, that he be allowed to put in every piece of hardcore security and tech possible. Mia wasn’t aware of it, but some of the men employed by Wynter Security were also assigned to physically check the premises, both day and night.

Something Rufus had been doubly grateful for once Molly began living in the apartment above.

“What’s going to happen to him now?” he asked.

“Mia will find a home for him,” Molly said confidently. “Maybe even on this open weekend.”

Rufus had recently moved from his penthouse apartment into a five-bedroom house not too far from where Mia and Darius now lived. He had high walls all around the property, as well as the best security installed outside and in.

He had made the move to a house in the hope that his grandchildren would have a garden to play in when they came to visit.

Despite having a housekeeper and cook and the several other members of staff he employed who helped to keep the house and garden tidy, he’d rattled around in that huge space these past few months.

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