July 3rd

The animal rescue centre is not a quiet place. The multitude of metal gates and doors clanged open and shut and reminded me of a jail, but the warmth of the volunteers made it clear the animals weren’t locked up for crimes. They were waiting for new owners to love them and care for them. In the meantime, they were spoiled rotten and nursed back to health if required.

“The vet bills are the worst,” said Florence as she showed us around. Cal was stuck at home working on a college project, but Jamie and Hannah had been ready quicker than they ever were for school. Hannah had been nagging me to visit the centre since her birthday when I promised her we would become volunteer dog-walkers to satisfy her craving for a puppy. We ha...

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