After Friday night’s hunt, Peter’s brain was fried. Keeping track of the volunteers, keeping supplies on site, managing the generous-hearted folks who stopped by the refuge with donations. The media kept calling for interviews; he put them off until the “situation was resolved”. Plus, he’d been out two nights in a row with Jared, searching for Sultan.
And keeping Jared on a leash now was twice as difficult. Jared was stubborn, always had been. It was part of the reason for his success as a refuge owner, but this had gone too far. The dogs that had died, and now the pony, the neighbors’ petition he’d dismissed, the lawsuit. Jared had crossed the line from focus into obsession.
Peter had zipped home after breakfast for a few hours’ sleep. Katherine woke Peter just after three and handed hi
