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Emma Raining Cats and Dogs . . . and Cupcakes!
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CHAPTER 1
Arf!
I am a major dog-lover, but the barking was even getting to me! Twenty happy dogs in all shapes and sizes were excited and running around the grassy yard, playing with balls and ropes and jumping in and out of a doggy play structure in the center of the action.
Mrs. Barnett, the petite, blond director of ARF (Animal Rescue Fund), laughed and called above the din, “Why don’t you girls come back to my office so we can hear ourselves think?”
The Cupcakers and I all laughed in agreement, and we followed her out of the fenced-in play yard and back down the tiled hall.
We, the Cupcake Club—me (Emma Taylor) and my best friends and business partners, Alexis
Becker, Mia Vélaz-Cruz, and Katie Brown—were at our local pet shelter for a meeting about some cupcakes we would be baking for an event they were having. The four of us have a business baking cupcakes for special events for friends, family, and clients (who often become like friends and family). We’ve done everything from kids’ parties to movie premieres, celebrity weddings to moms’ book clubs. We are creative and our cupcakes are reasonably priced, and we deliver! Our motto is: Professional cupcakes with a homemade twist.
Today we’d been recommended to ARF by a boy from our school who volunteers there—Diego Diaz. Diego is always Instagramming things about pets that need homes, and events being held at the shelter. He’s really into helping animals and has raised a lot of awareness about abandoned animals, as well as helping to raise money for ARF. Now, ARF is having an adopt-a-pet event next weekend at our local park, and Diego suggested they hand out cupcakes to entice passersby to stop and mingle with the cats and dogs they’ll have on-site for adoption. Mrs. Barnett loved the idea, so she’d contacted us and asked us to come in for a tour and meeting.
We settled into her cramped office—Alexis on an extra chair, taking notes on her laptop, Mia and
Katie perched on a windowsill, and me leaning in the doorway—and chatted about what kind of turnout ARF could expect for the park event and what they hoped to gain from it.
Mrs. Barnett explained, “Usually, we bring four kittens, two cats, at least two or three puppies, and then two older dogs. We expect to have about seventy people stop by the table during our three hours in the park. So maybe let’s order . . . five dozen cupcakes, since I don’t think everyone will take one. How does that sound?”
Alexis was nodding as she jotted it all down. “Great. So it’s next Saturday. And we’ll meet you at eleven, in the park, right? It’s easier than you having to transport the cupcakes if we bring them there first.”
“Yes. Thanks,” agreed Mrs. Barnett.
We exchanged cell numbers.
“We’ll come up with a design proposal for you to approve before this weekend,” Alexis said and continued to outline the terms, but all I could think about were the poor animals that needed homes. Cupcakes were far from my mind.
“Um, excuse me, Mrs. Barnett? How many of the animals do you usually place at an event like this?” I had to know.
Mrs. Barnett smiled. “The kittens are the easiest. We’ll almost always place a kitten. About once every three or four months, we’ll place a puppy. Maybe once a year we place an older dog this way. But we do yield about five on-site visits from these events. . . .”
I must have looked confused, because she looked at me kindly and explained.
“People follow up with a visit here to the shelter. And those tend to be more productive for us than the park events because, of course, if people are bothering to come see us, they are usually pretty ready to adopt.”
I felt my chest relax a little. “Oh. Good. I just can’t stand to think of all those poor animals . . .” I wasn’t sure how to finish my sentence.
Mrs. Barnett nodded sympathetically. “I know. We are a no-kill shelter, though. We won’t put down animals just because we can’t find homes for them. Every once in a while there’s a really difficult animal that we have to refer elsewhere—severe biters, feral cats, attack dogs, what have you—but we do eventually find someplace for everyone. It can sometimes take more than a year.”
“Poor little guys,” I said.
She nodded again, then she said briskly, “But
our pity really doesn’t help them. People need to have their animals spayed and neutered so they don’t reproduce, and we need to keep the profile of ARF in the public eye so people continue to donate to us. That’s where your cupcakes come in!” She stood up to signal that our meeting was over.
Alexis closed her laptop and stood to shake Mrs. Barnett’s hand. “Thanks so much for the opportunity to bake for you,” said Alexis. “We’re sure you’ll love the results!”
Mrs. Barnett laughed and patted her stomach. “That’s what I’m worried about!”
We laughed with her, and my stress eased a bit. Alexis was always so professional, and it kept things flowing. We were quickly outside and ready to call for our ride. Even from the sidewalk, though, the barking was pretty crazy.
“Those poor doggies,” I said.
Katie looped her arm across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “I know. I could tell you were taking it hard, you little animal lover, you.”
“I’m going to give Tiki and Milkshake extra doggy treats when I get home today,” said Mia. She shook her head as if to clear her mind. “It’s so sad that people just ditch their pets like that. I
can’t even imagine it. It just breaks my heart.”
“Pets are expensive,” Alexis said briskly. “It would be sadder if they ditched their kids when times got tough.”
“Alexis!” I reprimanded her.
She shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s true. I’m stunned by how much money is spent on pets in this country.”
“All right, boss lady! We don’t need an economics lesson!” teased Mia.
Alexis sniffed. “I might just have to go into the pet-supply business when I get older.”
We giggled, and pretty soon after, my dad rolled up in our minivan and we piled in.
“How did it go?” he asked as the door slid shut behind us.
“Oh, Dad, it was so sad!” I wailed, buckling my seat belt. “There are so many animals that need homes!”
He nodded. “I can’t even go into those places. I’d come out with enough pets to fill an ark!”
“Maybe we should!” I said enthusiastically.
But he smiled and shook his head. “I don’t deny that we are getting closer to convincing your mom to get a dog. But there is still much work for us to do . . . ,” he said in a fake formal tone.
My three brothers and I have wanted a dog for years, ever since our old Lab, Sissy, died. My youngest brother, Jake, in particular, is dying for a dog of his own. Since he’s pretty spoiled, he’ll probably get it. I’m just hoping he’ll be willing to share.
I’ve always loved dogs—I like cats,...