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It was a truth universally acknowledged that Ilya Rozanov was an animal lover. It was one of the great unspoken truths.
Water was wet, the earth revolved around the sun and if it was small and fluffy with big eyes, Ilya would try to pet it.
Shane had learnt that early on in their relationship. Well, not early, early. In the situationship years, he had no idea the hardened Russian hockey player he was casually hooking up with was a big softy at heart. But after their weeks at the cottage, where they had finally decided to stop lying to themselves about the fact they were in a committed relationship, a new side of Ilya had been revealed.
It started small. Being in Boston, Ilya couldn't do too much damage. Mostly it was random unsolicited dog or cat pictures (or one time, a cockatoo) sent to Shane's phone at all hours of the day and night.
Sometimes Ilya was drunk, his text messages making little to no sense. But other times, he was sober and willing to taunt Shane with how freely he could express love for the animals.
Ilya didn't mean anything by it, but sometimes Shane had felt a stab of jealousy, looking at those pictures of his boyfriend snuggling up to a dumb animal, huge smile on his face.
It got, well, not worse, when Ilya finally moved to Ottawa. But definitely more intense.
It didn't help that Ilya's new team, the Ottawa Centaurs, had a team dog. Well, it wasn't really a team dog but the dog belonging to their social media manager, Harris Drover but since the guy would bring the dog to the rink often, it was basically the same thing.
Shane remembered well, Ilya's excited call when he discovered that his new friend was fostering a service dog in training and due to that training, the puppy needed to come to social places, like the rink.
The resulting wave of slightly blurry pictures and novel length texts Shane had received when Harris had finally bought the dog to work had been peak Ilya blabbering and once Shane confirmed he was talking about the dog (and not Troy Barrett as he had initially mistakenly thought) he enjoyed the chaos.
So really, Shane should have known it was only a matter of time before Ilya caved and got a dog of his own. Meeting Anya, the adorable pile of fur Ilya had taken it was more a matter of when, rather than if, if Shane was honest with himself and well, Anya was a sweet pup. After all the unpleasantness of their relationship being uncovered, Shane had discovered that nothing soothed him like curling up with the dog in Ilya's home (Well, apart from curling up with Ilya himself)
So yes, Shane knew Ilya loved animals. Dogs in particular.
He just wished Ilya's definition of 'dogs' wasn't so loose.
-----
Ilya had had a few incidents, as Shane would later call the warning signs, mostly finding their neighbours cats or dogs loose in the street and, under the belief they were stay, had scooped them up.
Shane had even taken to keeping the local vets phone number in his contacts and several times already, had given them a call, bringing the animals in to scan for microchips and getting them back to their rightful owners, much to Ilya's disappointment.
But it was different at the Cottage. For one, unlike Ilya's house (their house, Ilya kept correcting him, since he had put Shane's name on the title almost as soon as they had gotten engaged.) the block of land the cottage rested on was huge, their nearest neighbours (coincidentally, Shane's parents) a good ten minute drive down the road.
Which meant Ilya's hunt for strays was severely limited. Or so Shane had thought.
The first real incident happened a few months after their wedding.
Shane had been slowly integrating into the Centaurs lineup and during a long break between games and training, had decided it was time to really get to know his new team.
The outdoor kitchen area of the Cottage, despite being nice, had needed some updated and thanks to being on the same team as Zane Boodram, it was a no brainer for Shane to turn to the man for guidance.
Soon, the new area was completed, a state of the art Blackstone BBQ dominating the area, surrounded by an outdoor dining area and bar, all tastefully decorating the back patio.
And with any nice dining area, it needed to be properly broken in.
Normally, team catch ups were at Bood's house. He was the cook of the team and delighted in having people over but Shane had felt it was right for him to invite the guys over. They had been so understanding and accommodating of him, giving the circumstance of his transition to their team and Shane wanted to show them hard-ass Captain Hollander of the Metros was well and truly gone and he was now just Shane, their team mate. So with the promise of a few good days off, Shane had organised food and drinks and invited the whole team plus the support staff to the cottage.
The cottage was a great place for everyone to meet up. It was two hours out of town and could give them the privacy they wanted (this season the Centaurs had been on fire, the fans flooding back and the media dogging everyone's steps. Even seasoned players like Hayes and Bood had been taken by surprise at this new level of interest.) If the guys wanted to drink or smoke weed, they needed somewhere away from cameras and vicious fans. Being on the waters edge in a property surrounded by forest was an ideal place.
So a bus had been hired (a safety precaution Shane had insisted on so the guys would be less likely to drive home drunk. Thankfully, Coach Wiebe, who was also invited, had the proper licences to drive the thing and didn't mind driving his team around if they promised to put their full effort into the next morning skate) and the whole team, plus their better halves, had arrived, ready to relax and enjoy themselves for the day.
Most of the guests had enjoyed swimming in the lake or running around the edge of the forest, kicking or throwing balls at each other.
Others had piled into the lounge inside for a truly vicious Mario Cart contest.
Shane had moved between the groups, trying to socalise as much as he comfortably could. He had spent a bit of time kicking a soccer ball around with Ilya and Evan Dykstra, he had laughed with the others while watching the Mario Cart game, when Luca kept sincerely apologising after knocking Harris off the Rainbow Road. He even had a beer with Hazy and Dillon, talking shop and just generally enjoying the atmosphere.
Then, he had gone into the kitchen with Bood to set up for the BBQ. The other man, despite not being the host for the day, had insisted on bringing some of his own recipes and helping Shane cook. He had even shown Shane his 'family secret' Hot Wing's recipe, which Shane was very touched to receive. None of the Metros had ever offered to share recipes with him and normally teased him for his diet, despite it being approved by the teams nutritionist.
Once they were ready, they had began transporting the meats outside to cook, a few of the others cheering them on.
In fact, Shane had been pre-heating the BBQ as Bood ran back inside to grab the burger patties when he was approached by Troy, a strange look on the other mans face.
"Hey Shane, we need your help dealing with something." The other man muttered, voice low.
Before Shane could question it further, Troy has turned on his feet and headed back into the house, his pace only just short of a run. That was then Shane realised, the man's clothing was damp. Which was strange.
A few of the guys had gone swimming in the lake, Troy included (Harris had dared Ilya to push him off the dock and Ilya was never one to back down from a dare) but Shane knew that Troy had changed into dry clothing afterwards. Hell, Shane had made sure there were plenty of towels for everyone, to prevent them tracking water and mud through the house.
For a brief, horrific moment, Shane wondered if one of the water pipes had burst. He had gotten a plumber in to do a complete refit of the pipes earlier that year but had not been 100% satisfied with the outcome. If one of the pipes happened to leak, there was a good chance, a group of drunk hockey players would decide they were handymen (Shane knew for a fact, the vast majority of Hockey players wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a wrench and a hammer) and try to fix it.
Passing the cooking tongs to Bood, Shane turned and dashed into the house, following in Troy's damp wake, his fears growing worse and worse with every step heading inevitably towards the guest bathroom.
His anxiety was at a peak as he arrived at the closed bathroom door and the several hockey players (and one very excited dog) gathered around the door, muttering to each other.
They all parted as Shane drew close and he was disconcerted to see, wouldn't meet his eye.
"Where's Ilya?" Shane snapped. He didn't mean to be rude to his team mates but this whole situation was putting him on edge. He glanced at LaPointe, the youngest member of the group.
The kid shrank away, jerking a thumb towards the closed door. Shane turned to it. He didn't want to just barge through. If Ilya was trying to be a handyman, Shane didn't want to embarrass him in front of the rest of the team. He knew well from his time with the Metros how a misstep like that could turn into months of teasing and uncomfortable comments in the locker room.
But no, the Centaurs were not like the Metros and wouldn't use any mistakes against either of them. Shane had to remind himself of that. He had finally come to terms with how toxic the Metros behaviour towards him had been during his career. Still, he didn't want to risk Ilya's standing. He was the Captain after all.
Walking to the closed door, Shane gently knocked on it.
"Ilya. Can I come in?" He asked.
There was a loud splash and what Shane could only guess was a string of Russian profanities, but no reply.
Shit. This wasn't good.
"Ilya. I'm going to open the door." He warned before grabbing the handle.
Before Ilya could reply, Shane had pushed the door open and stepped inside. He froze.
Sitting fully clothed in the half filled bathtub, Ilya also froze.
So too, did the creature in Ilya's arms.
The creature that Shane immediately identified as a very confused looking Coyote. The poor creature was soaking wet, sudds of soap glistening on its coat. The smell in the air was immediately recognisable as Anya's special and very expensive dog shampoo that Shane had bought in bulk after he discovered Ilya had been using normal shampoo on her.
"ILYA!" Shane shouted, voice high in shock. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I saw her walking around in the woods. She was all alone Shane." The man protested, his grip further tightening on the creature.
The creature which, now it had regained its composure, started wriggling, trying to escape the man's grip, letting out a high picked whine. Water rained down on Ilya but it seemed, the Russian had the grip of an octopus. At least, Shane hoped he did. He did not want a soaking wet, wild coyote running around his house.
"Her owner must be so worried. She's a good girl, just scared." Ilya continued, almost shouting over the noise the coyote was making.
It occurred to Shane suddenly, that Ilya had no idea what he had brought into the house.
"Ilya, that thing doesn't have an owner." He gasped out.
Ilya looked shocked, even as the coyote let out a low growl.
"But she's such a sweet girl." He protested.
"Ilya, that's a wild coyote!" Shane all but shouted over the noise.
And that was how Shane ended up meeting Janice from the local wildlife rescue, along with her husband Simon and nephew Marcel.
The three had arrived promptly after Shane had called them, after he had managed to extract Ilya from the bathroom, leaving the Coyote locked inside.
Initially, Shane had wanted to dump the creature outside and let it run off back into the woods but that would have required him actually letting Ilya hold onto the coyote for longer than he was comfortable with and besides, Ilya had protested against it, saying that the coyote, who he was calling Olga, would be cold and might be hurt.
Thankfully, apart from some drunken hockey players ribbing Ilya for his actions, the extraction of Olga the Coyote from the bathroom was uneventful.
Janice had been friendly and her husband professional. Even her nephew had commented on Ilya's remarkable actions. Thankfully, none of them seemed to be big hockey fans, or else this incident would have probably been taken to the media before Shane finished loading the last of the Centaurs onto the bus to go home.
Ilya mourned Olga's departure loudly as Shane made him dry out the bathroom but Shane was content to ignore him and forget the number he had called on his phone. He swore that it would be the only time.
-----
It was not the only time.
Olga the Coyote, was followed by Nikolai the Bobcat, who Ilya found one day when he was at Shane's parents' house (David Hollander had been gob smacked that Ilya had managed to pick the creature up without losing his hand)
Nikolai was followed by the 'twins' as Ilya called the two fox kits he found on a morning run.
Then there was the badger at the Cottage and the army of raccoons at home which he insisted on feeding, because 'They can't eat trash Shane, look at them!".
Shane hadn't been present for the Lynx (he had been out of town on a sponsorship deal) but had heard all about it from Luca who had the misfortune of accepting a lift from the rink with Ilya when they came across the creature. Thankfully Ilya hadn't tried to care for that one but had learnt to take it to the vet instead where it was identified (and Ilya enjoyed the pain of a rabies shot due to the scratches he received)
Shane had just managed to stop the wolf incident, pulling Ilya away before his instincts to pet kicked in.
There was the army of birds Ilya insisted on feeding, including a murder of crows (Ilya had been delighted to learn that name, although Shane considered them more of an Army at this point, given the number of birds following his husband around) and Blue Jays.
Every animal received a name and every time Shane told Ilya they couldn't keep it, he got a kicked puppy look.
Thankfully Ilya's proclivities didn't break containment until what Shane had taken to calling, the Bear incident.
Ilya still got misty eyed about Slava every now and again and insisted to Shane that they could have taken care of it, despite it being a Black Bear Cub. Unfortunately, that particular incident happened to be captured on video by Janice and Simon's niece Estelle, who was in charge of the rescue's social media channel. It had spread like wild fire online, some people recognising Ilya and other's just being impressed at his ability to not get mauled.
He even featured on several reaction channels and a common comment of 'White Men Ain't Scared of Shit' followed him around for several months afterwards.
Svetlana and Marleau sent him a plushie bear for his troubles which now lived on the bedside table in their bedroom and Shane had felt it only appropriate to send the rescue a large donation for their troubles after that incident.
The number Shane swore he would never need again became one of his most frequently called. Janice and Simon became surprisingly close friends, even though they were both elderly and knew nothing about Hockey and simply referred to Ilya as 'the Russian with the white woman animal whispering powers' (Shane hadn't meant to look but he had, during one of their visits to the rescue post another call out, noted that his number was written on a piece of paper pinned at the front desk, titled 'the long suffering husband')
And honestly, by that time, Shane was willing to take that title.
Yes, Ilya did sometimes try his patience. But he was caring, kind and loved animals. And honestly, Shane wouldn't have him any other way.
Even if it meant he now had to have all the local vets and the Animal rescue's number on speed dial.
-----
Shane pinched his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose, suppressing a heavy sigh as he reached for his phone. He was standing in the kitchen of the Cottage, the huge window letting in the natural light, painting everything a soft gold colour.
He had been at the Cottage for a grand total of three hours now, ready to start his relaxing holiday. Hell, the groceries he had bought hadn't even been moved from the stack of bags on the island counter where they had been piled.
Shane had meant to deal with that as soon as possible but unfortunately, very foreseen circumstances had distracted him from his task.
Opening his contacts, he flicked down to a very familiar number and pressed the call button, shooting an annoyed look towards the dining room table as he raised it to his ear.
The phone rang three times before it was answered with a soft hello.
"Hi Janice, it's Shane." He said, his tone curt, his eyes not leaving the chaos before him.
He listed for a moment, hearing the reply.
"Yes, the holiday just started. We arrived today actually." He continued.
There was another pause. And then….
"I don't want to know who won the bet. I just wanted to let you know, it happened again."
Another pause.
"No. Not a Bear this time, thankfully. You don't need to send everyone out here. Just Marcel will do."
Silence for a moment as Shane listened. And then….
"A baby loon actually."
Quickly he raised a hand to stop an argument coming from the dining area.
"Yeah, he thought it was an injured duck."
Silence and then.
"Ok. Thank you Janice. We will wait for Marcel to arrive. Hopefully he hasn't named it this time."
Then Shane hung up the phone, his head dropping so he could stare at the device intently.
Taking a deep breath through his nose, he held it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it through his mouth.
Then he again raised his head to glare at the table. Where Ilya sat, mud splattered and cradling a thick towel to his chest. At his feet, equally mud splattered, her tail wagging, sat Anya. Thank God she was well trained enough not to start running through the place. As Shane stared, a small and incredibly ugly head popped out of the folds of fabric, looking around in confusion.
"You can't keep it, Ilya." He said pointedly.
Ilya threw him a disappointed look, his grip on the towel tightening.
"But Katya looked so cold and scared outside." He argued. "I couldn't just leave her. Not my fault she turned out to be an ugly, stupid wolf bird. Besides, Anya bonded with her."
Shane groaned and dropped his head to meet the cool stone counter.
"Ilya, God Dammit!"