Page 41 of My Small Town Silver Fox Billionaire

“When you went over there, I thought maybe you were seeing something glistening. I never expected an animal.”

“It’s instinct,” she replies.

“That’s one heck of an instinct!”

I care about animals, but I don’t have that kind of impulsive movement when one of them is hurt. I’m a little jealous because she didn’t even think twice. She just moved and cared for the animal and asked questions later.

“Thanks. I guess when I saw the bird, I realized I had to do what we would do at the sanctuary.”

“You keep mentioning that you work at a sanctuary. What’s the work like?”

She nods, her eyes widening as she smiles, thinking about it. “It’s just a part-time gig, but I work with mostly senior animals of all kinds, like those that are a little too old to be on their own, or animals that people aren’t able to take care of because they’re so old.

Sometimes animals and their owners grow old together and get to a point where they both need help, so we’re their resource for the animals. And sadly, there are heartbreaking cases where people just don’t want their animals when they get old. I can’t imagine that, but our motto is not to judge but to care.

“Robert, we even have a gorgeous African grey parrot who is 62 years old!” she exclaims almost breathlessly. “We know Claude’s age because we actually have his birth certificate! Yeah! He outlived two generations of his people who loved and cared for him from a hatchling, and he went through a long grief for them.

But we have one young gal, Barb, who is his particular caregiver, so even though she cannot take him home to her apartment, they have bonded so closely that he seems much happier than when he arrived a year or so ago. She hopes toadopt him when she has her own place. That’s the ultimate goal!”

“Sara, I’m so enthralled with the things you know and what you do! It’s amazing how much you get to know the animals in your care. I never knew that a bird could live that long! Or that they remember people and grieve. That’s amazing!”

“African greys are considered one of the world’s most intelligent animals—with the same intelligence level as a toddler!” They are quite amazing and I feel very blessed to have seen one up close and personal.”

“That’s pretty impressive, Sara.”

“Oh…oh..” she says and begins to chuckle. “I’ve got a really cute story about an African Grey if you’d like to hear it.” At my nod she continues. “ My friend Judy has a beautiful Grey named Charlie and they live in a first-floor apartment in South Florida. Her neighbor told her this story.

It was Spring or Fall, can’t recall, but it was cool enough to have the AC off and the windows open to screens. One day the UPS guy came with a delivery and knocked on the door. He heard her say ‘Come in’ but of course he wasn’t about to just open the door and go in. So, he knocks again and he hears here call out to come in.”

“After a few more rounds of this, he hears a woman’s voice from the apartment window above yell down ‘For Pete’s sake, will you quit already? You’re talking to a bird!’”

Now Sara is really cracking herself up, thinking about her friend not being home but Charlie mimicking her voice and knowing exactly what to say to a door knock!

“That’s pretty cute, Sara,” and I snort out a laugh, but I’m not so much laughing at the story but at Sara who is having such fun retelling it.

Thanks for the mercy laugh, mister. Well,Ithink it’s a funny story, even if you are laughing at me instead of with me.” Nowshe gives me a totally fake pout and cracks me up yet again. That leads to a light bout of shoulder punches and more laughs.

“Robert, there another side of me and what I love to do. I’ve helped many different animals, from dogs to cows to even horses and birds, live their best lives. We treat them until they are unable to get treatment for a condition they have. When that happens, we run a sort of hospice, giving them their best final days.” She explains.

“For instance, when we know that we will have to put down an animal, say a dog, that fella gets ice cream, cheese spray, and any other special treat he may want that final day. Even though it’s a sad time, it is such a delight seeing the joy such a small thing brings.”

“Wow. That’s so sweet of you, Sara. What a wonderful place it must be.”

“Thanks,” she replies, sighing. “I was a little worried about telling you.”

“Why?” I ask curiously. It’s not that crazy of a job. I mean, sure, running a senior sanctuary and animal hospice isn’t something you hear about every day, but it makes sense in a way.

“Well, lots of people think it’s dumb.”

I scoff, unable to believe that. “How could someone find it dumb?”

“Because it doesn’t make money. I don’t do it for a paycheck. I do it for the animals. In fact, my dream is to one day run my own sanctuary and get out of the barista life,” she finally shares.

“That sounds like a wonderful goal. Incredibly admirable, if I’m being honest.”

Sara’s face lightens at my words.

“When I told my parents that I wanted to do this, they told me it was stupid. I stopped getting financial help after I got my bachelor’s degree, so I’ve been scrambling to go back to schooland get my veterinary degree. Then, I can look at possibly running my own sanctuary and taking care of animals there.”

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