Mutts. That’s what the note had said. Nothing else. Gabby had been furious. They were babies—blind, trembling, innocent. She’d sat with them for hours that first night, bottle-feeding them every three hours. Maybe that’s why they still followed her everywhere like she was their mother.
Now they were two years old. Still in the shelter. Still together. Always together. Juno and Juniper had never spent a single day apart. Gabby made sure of it. She brought them new toys when she could, always gave them a few more treats than protocol allowed.