Page 51 of Here Comes Santa Paws

“Absolutely.” I took him on a tour of all the damage that I knew of.

He asked me a lot of detailed questions while scribbling on his clipboard. The longer we talked, the more confident I felt in his ability to do the work. With how badly I’d struck out trying to find help, I’d begun to mentally prepare for the possible reality that this problem wouldn’t get fixed for months.

“I’ve got guys hoping to pick up extra hours for the holidays. You know how it is.” He gave me a warm smile.

“I definitely do. Does that mean you’d be able to get started soon?”

He nodded and consulted his notes. “If you don’t mind some of the work being done on evenings and weekends, we could get going later this week and likely finish it by the new year.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That would be amazing!”

He grimaced. “Though, I need to give the disclaimer that it depends on what we find. There’s a chance that once we’re fixing pipes, we could discover more issues.”

I winced. The damage restoration company hadn’t seen anything major, but I’d been worried about our plumbing for a while. If we needed to fix things to prevent future issues, I’d rather do it while the pipes were exposed. “I hope there’s no surprises. Our shelter isn’t exactly flush with cash.”

Gage smiled in understanding and pulled something from the inside of his clipboard compartment, then handed it to me. It was a brochure for a regional nonprofit that offered emergency grants to local organizations.

“This is amazing. Thank you.”

I’d already picked out some grants to apply for next year and was trying to figure out how to shuffle our minimal savings around to cover anything insurance didn’t. I’d heard too many horror stories to fully trust insurance would cover everything.

I hoped we’d get grants next year to backfill the dip into operations. Hopefully this organization had some funding available to tide us over while insurance got sorted out.

“You’re welcome. I’ll get a bid written up and sent your way.”

“I appreciate it. Hey, can I ask what made you reach out? I was glad to get your call but surprised.”

He smiled. “A friend let me know what happened.”

“A friend? Do I know the friend?”

Gage shrugged. “I got a call from someone who called themselves Secret Santa.”

“Well, I’m grateful to you and Santa.”

He tucked the clipboard under his arm and held out his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

I shook his hand. “Thanks for your time.”

I saw Gage out, then greeted a young woman who wanted to ask about adopting a cat. I connected her with a volunteer and then greeted several more people who came in. We had a flurry of people interested in fostering and adopting.

As I made a mental note to research the emergency grant funding opportunity later, I greeted two guys who came in.

“Welcome to Santa’s Helpers Animal Shelter. How can I help you?”

“You must be Elias, right? The guy running the animal shelter?” one of them asked. He sounded excited.

“That’s me. Though recently, it feels like this place is runningmein circles instead of the other way around.” I probably shouldn’t be admitting that to strangers. I blamed the tension slowly leaching from my body afterfinallyfinding a contractor.

They introduced themselves as Jett and Remy. Jett was the one interested in fostering.

“Feel free to look around, and once you find your furry friend, let me know, and we can fill out the form.” I shot them an apologetic look when a volunteer called me over.

After answering a few questions about adoption paperwork and greeting more visitors, I returned to check on Jett and Remy.

I found them playing with two of my favorites in the shelter.Who am I kidding? They’re all my favorites. It tugged at my heartstrings that no one had adopted them yet.

Sugar, a black-and-white tuxedo, purred contentedly in Remy’s arm while Spice, an orange tabby, climbed Jett’s leg.

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