Page 5 of Pigeon

“Hey, Queen P. How’s my favorite lady today?” I greet as I stop in front of her eye-level perch.

With Prissy being nearly twenty inches tall, I must crane my neck to look up at her.

“I’s good,” Prissy answers immediately. With her southern accent, it sounds like “aah’s good,” and it never fails to make me grin.

“Want to help me with rounds?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Prissy states before stepping up onto my hand, where I then transfer her to my shoulder.

The best part of my day starts now. No Ted, no stress, and surrounded by animals. I take a deep breath and get to work.

Priscilla and I make the rounds of all the barns and enclosures, but I return her to the aviary before I enter the dog area. I want to meet the new guy, and I can’t trust Priscilla not to scare him. I greet each dog as I walk past their kennels, making mental notes as to who needs water, food, or something else, and casually ease past the new dog. I watch him out of the corner of my eye and see that he instantly turns his face away while pressing into the back wall. He’s terrified, and my heart breaks a little. Moving on, I grab leashes, select a few dogs to take to the outside dog park to let them run, and turn them loose. A few months ago, some of The Devil’s Angels members came here and fenced in a few acres for this purpose. They went above and beyond by also installing a small, shallow pool for the water-loving dogs, waterspouts that turn on and off automatically for the dogs to drink from or play in, a large sandpit for digging, tires, and even a few fire hydrants. The dogs love every bit of it, and it’s made a huge difference in their attitudes with not having to be in a kennel most of the day.

Returning to the dog barn, I continue to talk to the dogs while completing the necessary chores. I make a point of walking by the new dog’s kennel often, but I don’t look at him directly. After several trips past, I notice him starting to look my way. After swapping out the dogs in the dog park with other dogs, I gather up food, water, and treats. Making my way to the new guy’s kennel, I sit on the floor in front of it. Looking at his info card, I see the vet has aged him at around two years old. Pit bull mix, he’s a beautiful gray/blue color with visible scars. One ear is partially missing, there’s a jagged scar over his nose, a few on his sides, but he has sad, kind eyes. His life’s been hard, but not anymore. We’ll find him a home where he’ll be loved, or he’ll stay here. Either way, he’s done being abused. His wounds are not fresh and not serious at this point. It’s his mental and emotional wounds that may never heal because humans can be evil. Some days are harder than others when working at an animal rescue.

Softly, in a calm voice, I talk nonsense to the pittie mix. My words don’t matter as much as the tone, so I talk about what chores I have to do tomorrow, what groceries I need to buy, and how good his new life is going to be. After several minutes, I move my hand toward the latch and watch to see his reaction. Not seeing anything signaling aggression, I open his gate enough to slide the food and water inside. Relatching his gate, I sit patiently and wait. After a few moments, I see him sniffing the air and glancing toward the food. I remove a dog biscuit, homemade by my friend Ava, and stick one end through the wire. I don’t know what she makes them out of, but I know of no dog that’s refused them yet. Ava brings a large tub of them and other treats each month, and we save them for this type of situation.

Eventually, either curiosity or hunger overcomes some of his fear, and he starts to inch toward the treat. It takes patience and several minutes, but eventually, he’s close enough to stretch his neck far enough to sniff the biscuit. I continue talking softly as I watch streams of slobber slide from his mouth to the floor. He wants this treat badly, so it’s now just a matter of time. I wait.

The dog very slowly, while watching me intently, reaches for the biscuit. I let go when he gently tugs on it, and I grin when he rushes to the back of the kennel again. Once there, it’s but a few seconds, and the biscuit’s devoured. I pick up the small blanket I had sitting next to me and lay it on my lap. Wiping my hands on it, I let it absorb my smell and that of the biscuit. I open the gate enough to slide the blanket, with another treat on top of it, inside. We’ve made progress, so I stand and walk away to let him enjoy his second biscuit in peace. Returning to the office, I sit at the computer, open his file, and type in a name that fits a brave dog—Thor.

Walking into the cat enclosure, I’m instantly surrounded. I refill food and water dishes, clean litter boxes, and pet furry heads. I also spend a lot of my time unhooking little claws from my jeans. So many cats and kittens to find homes for that some days it’s overwhelming. If only more people would spay and neuter, it would make a huge difference in the unwanted cat population. At least the ones here are going to be okay. They’re loved, have shelter, and all the other necessities. Hopefully, they’ll also have their own home and a family to love them soon. After showering attention on as many as I can, I move on to the rest of the barns and our residents.

After several hours, hunger makes me realize it’s time to take a quick break. Grabbing my lunch out of the fridge, I take a seat and dig in. All I had time to grab was a small bowl of macaroni salad I made a few days ago. I seriously need to do some grocery shopping tomorrow. My cupboards are bare, my dirty laundry is piled up high, and the house needs a thorough cleaning. I’m behind on everything, but chores still need to be done, and the ranch doesn’t run itself.

When my grandparents were still alive, Todd and Ted did their share of the work. Since then, they do very little and don’t do much right. They’re too busy drinking to be good at their jobs, and neither care. Papa would never have tolerated this, and it’s just sad that his wishes aren’t being followed. Losing him and Nana so close together has devastated my life but has brightened Ted’s, unfortunately.

I’ve pretty much always known that I’d inherit the ranch, and Ted would receive money, but I never dreamed it would happen the way it has. Papa and Nana had their will done several years ago, when I was still a minor and was advised to make certain conditions. Conditions that have now made my life a living hell. Nana realized mistakes had been made, but she was already sick when we unexpectedly lost Papa, and the will never got revised before she died too. So now I have to just push through, survive each day as it comes, and put my dreams on hold for a few more years.

I rinse my container, stow it in my backpack, push away my thoughts, and get back to work. A few more hours to go before I’m done for the night. Most people are happy on their last day of work for the week but not me. Two full days around Ted is never a good time. Sighing, I head for the pig barn.

Chapter 3

Pigeon

We’re sitting in Church, and Gunner’s laying out some new info that’s been passed to him. I can clearly see anger and disgust on several of my club brothers’ faces. I’m sure my face reflects the same emotions as theirs because I can feel my blood pressure rising. All of our thoughts must be similar, and action is going to be needed because none of us are going to sleep easy until this is settled.

“Of course, we’re going to act on this,” states Petey emphatically.

“Absolutely. It’s not if. It’s how that I’m bringing to the table,” Gunner answers.

“How? With lead is how!” bellows Trigger.

“Need a little more to the plan than just to end them,” Gunner responds patiently.

“Wait a minute. I have a question. Who’s Alfonse?” Freddy asks.

“Carmen’s brother. Some of us met him when he came here to pick her up after we brought her and Bella to the clubhouse,” Cash answers.

“How’d he find out there’s another sex ring operating here?” Pooh questions.

“Since his sister was grabbed, and we returned her, their family has made exposing sex rings their personal mission. I don’t know all the details, but their info seems solid. Several of them will be here the day after tomorrow, and we’ll know more then. They asked if we could put them up somewhere so they can stay under the radar. If no one objects, I’d like to offer them the rooms here. No one will know they’re even in town that way. I know several of us have rooms but don’t live here anymore. Everyone okay with that?” Gunner explains.

A chorus of yeahs and yeses ring out, and that matter is settled. While half-listening to other questions the members are asking, my mind flits to Bella. How’s this going to affect her? She’s come so far and put her past behind her, and now this will bring it all up again. Will she withdraw into herself again? Before I can voice these thoughts, Pooh does.

“I don’t think Bella should know why these men will be here. I don’t want this to bring up all that she’s gone through again. What do you think, Petey?”

“She’s smart and well-adjusted. I don’t know if we could keep it a secret from her with strange men staying here. It might be best to explain what’s happening and be available for her if there’s fallout,” Petey answers but not in a convincing voice. He has doubts too, and that concerns me.

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