Free Homeless by Laurie Halse Anderson

says. “Her kids would love a kitten.”
    “Pigs will fly before that happens,” Maggie replies.
    We sort through the files in silence, making lists of clients to contact about overdue vaccinations. Suddenly, Sherlock lets out a deep “woof!”
    “Someone’s here,” Maggie says without looking up from her pile.
    David peeks through the blinds. “It’s Gary. Time to release the cats.”

Chapter Twelve
    C at Land is quiet and peaceful when we arrive. We follow Gary and Dr. Mac to the clearing. When Gary opens the doors of the first two cages, the cats race out and disappear into the weeds.
    “Later, dudes,” David calls to the cats.
    “They sure look like happy campers, don’t they?” Gary says.
    Dr. Mac grins. “You look pretty pleased yourself.”
    Gary crosses his arms over his chest and studies the spot where the cats hurried into the underbrush. “Yep. I became an Animal Control officer because I wanted to help animals. I really like the way this is working out.”
    I think we should be videotaping this. Lots of people think Animal Control officers are the bad guys, like the old-fashioned dogcatchers in cartoons. But Gary obviously cares about animals.
    “Uh-oh,” Maggie says. “Here comes trouble.”
    Mrs. Frazier is headed toward us, punching numbers on a cell phone. She looks even angrier than she did the first time I met her.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” she demands with a red face. “You’re supposed to be taking the cats out of here, not bringing more in! Is that why this whole thing is taking so long? You take away a few cats to calm me down, then you sneak more back in? Well, I’m not feeling very calm, Mr. Snyder, not at all!”
    “Mrs. Frazier, let me explain,” Gary says. “The cats we just released are vaccinated and spayed. They present no danger to you or your family. Mrs. Frazier?”
    “Hello? Animal Control?” she says into the cell phone. “Get me the supervisor. We have an emergency.”
    “Mrs. Frazier, this is not an emergency,” Gary tries again. “If you would just listen to me . . .”
    She covers the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand. “No, you listen to me! I will not have my kids put in danger in their own backyard. I’m going to have this place crawling with people. I’ve already called the police and the TV stations. And now I’m going to get your job taken away. Yes,” she says into the phone. “We have a problem here on Dorset.” She walks toward her neighbor’s house while she talks.
    Dr. Mac’s right eyebrow is arched high. “Gary Snyder,” she says sternly, “please tell me you had that meeting with the residents, the one where you were going to explain the TVSR program to them.”
    Gary looks ten years old all of a sudden. His face turns red, and his eyes look everywhere except at Dr. Mac’s face. In the distance, Mrs. Frazier punches another number on her cell phone and then yells into it. Gary may be a great Animal Control officer, but unfortunately, he’s an absent-minded one.
    “You did have the meeting, didn’t you?” Dr. Mac asks.
    He takes a deep breath. “Well, it’s just that we had some loose dogs, and then a deer was wandering around the new development, and I’ve had twelve skunk calls since Saturday, and—well . . . it slipped my mind,” he admits.
    Dr. Mac closes her eyes like she’s got a headache.
    “What do we do now?” I ask.
    “Exactly what we came here for,” Gary says. “These cats are safe. They won’t harm anyone. I say let’s finish the job. Release the cats, trap the next batch, and then go home. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with the neighbors tonight, I promise.”
    “But what if Mrs. Frazier does something to hurt them?” I say.
    “You can’t ignore Mrs. Frazier,” Dr. Mac says. “She’s furious. Let’s take the cats back to the clinic and keep them there a few more days. We’ll release them after the meeting.”
    The four caged cats still in the back of the pickup truck