some company for a minute?”
Smiling and trying not to look like a dork about it, she nodded, and they walked down the little path between the booths.
At the other end of the park, an animal rescue group had a little setup, a ring of cages, crates, and small pens. Faith bounced a little. “Hey! Babies!” She took a couple of quick steps toward the animals, but realized that Michael had stopped those few steps back. He looked…mad, or something. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate these things.”
“What? Animals?”
“No. These cages, everybody poking at them, and nowhere for them to go. It sucks.”
“But people adopt them and take them home. This helps them.”
The noise Michael made then was pure contempt. “Right.” But then he looked at her, and his expression softened. “Sorry. Ignore me.” He closed the distance between them, and they did a tour of the crates and pens.
It was the end of the day, and it looked like the group had had a pretty successful adoption drive. Though they had a big sign advertising puppies and kittens, most of the animals left were grown. There was a sign hanging from their table that advertised a discount on the adoption fee for adult animals, too, but that apparently hadn’t swayed many people.
Tucked back behind the table, not part of the circle of adoptable animals, was a good-size wire crate. Inside it was a big cat with long black and white fur, like a tuxedo. He was wedged tightly against a back corner of the crate, his gold eyes wide and suspicious.
Michael went around the table and squatted next to the crate. The cat made a fierce, threatening sound, a growl and a yowl both. Michael sat down on the grass. “Hey, dude.”
The young woman managing the animals came over. “I’m sorry. He’s not up for adoption.”
Michael looked up at her, and Faith saw aggression in his eyes. His cheeks were pink. She’d noticed he got really blushy when he was upset, or just felt strongly in one way or another. He’d blushed hard when he’d kissed her, too.
“Why not?” he asked.
“He’s…not well socialized. You should get away from the crate, too. When he makes that sound, he means business.”
“Then why is he here?”
The woman looked a little guilty. “It’s weird. He’s really aggressive with people, but he loves babies. We came in today with a litter of orphaned kittens that he’s been taking care of. They all found forever homes.” At that, she smiled perkily.
“So he had a family this morning, and he doesn’t now?” Michael’s face was getting really red, and Faith felt a little worried.
Now the woman was angry. “Look. We’re a no-kill shelter. Tom would have been euthanized the very second he went into any other facility. It takes three people to hold him down to even do a simple vet check. He’s bloodied all of us. But he’s still got a home.”
“Where does he live when he’s not at the park?”
“With me.”
“Sleeping in your lap while you watch television?” There was a sharp, nasty sneer in Michael’s voice.
“I told you, he’s not well socialized.”
“So you keep him penned up.”
“He has a room of his own. Is there something you want?”
“I just want to sit here with him for a few minutes. That okay?”
The woman stared hard at him. Then she looked at Faith, who nodded. She had no idea what to think about any of it, but Michael wanted to sit with this apparently crazy cat, so she wasn’t going to get in his way.
“Fine. Just…don’t sue us if he slices you open. We don’t have any money, anyway.”
“Do I look like somebody who’d sue anybody, lady?”
Without another word, the woman turned and walked off toward friendlier people.
Faith sat down at Michael’s side. The cat growled at her, too.
“It’s okay, dude,” Michael said, almost crooning the words. He put his hand flat
Smiling and trying not to look like a dork about it, she nodded, and they walked down the little path between the booths.
At the other end of the park, an animal rescue group had a little setup, a ring of cages, crates, and small pens. Faith bounced a little. “Hey! Babies!” She took a couple of quick steps toward the animals, but realized that Michael had stopped those few steps back. He looked…mad, or something. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate these things.”
“What? Animals?”
“No. These cages, everybody poking at them, and nowhere for them to go. It sucks.”
“But people adopt them and take them home. This helps them.”
The noise Michael made then was pure contempt. “Right.” But then he looked at her, and his expression softened. “Sorry. Ignore me.” He closed the distance between them, and they did a tour of the crates and pens.
It was the end of the day, and it looked like the group had had a pretty successful adoption drive. Though they had a big sign advertising puppies and kittens, most of the animals left were grown. There was a sign hanging from their table that advertised a discount on the adoption fee for adult animals, too, but that apparently hadn’t swayed many people.
Tucked back behind the table, not part of the circle of adoptable animals, was a good-size wire crate. Inside it was a big cat with long black and white fur, like a tuxedo. He was wedged tightly against a back corner of the crate, his gold eyes wide and suspicious.
Michael went around the table and squatted next to the crate. The cat made a fierce, threatening sound, a growl and a yowl both. Michael sat down on the grass. “Hey, dude.”
The young woman managing the animals came over. “I’m sorry. He’s not up for adoption.”
Michael looked up at her, and Faith saw aggression in his eyes. His cheeks were pink. She’d noticed he got really blushy when he was upset, or just felt strongly in one way or another. He’d blushed hard when he’d kissed her, too.
“Why not?” he asked.
“He’s…not well socialized. You should get away from the crate, too. When he makes that sound, he means business.”
“Then why is he here?”
The woman looked a little guilty. “It’s weird. He’s really aggressive with people, but he loves babies. We came in today with a litter of orphaned kittens that he’s been taking care of. They all found forever homes.” At that, she smiled perkily.
“So he had a family this morning, and he doesn’t now?” Michael’s face was getting really red, and Faith felt a little worried.
Now the woman was angry. “Look. We’re a no-kill shelter. Tom would have been euthanized the very second he went into any other facility. It takes three people to hold him down to even do a simple vet check. He’s bloodied all of us. But he’s still got a home.”
“Where does he live when he’s not at the park?”
“With me.”
“Sleeping in your lap while you watch television?” There was a sharp, nasty sneer in Michael’s voice.
“I told you, he’s not well socialized.”
“So you keep him penned up.”
“He has a room of his own. Is there something you want?”
“I just want to sit here with him for a few minutes. That okay?”
The woman stared hard at him. Then she looked at Faith, who nodded. She had no idea what to think about any of it, but Michael wanted to sit with this apparently crazy cat, so she wasn’t going to get in his way.
“Fine. Just…don’t sue us if he slices you open. We don’t have any money, anyway.”
“Do I look like somebody who’d sue anybody, lady?”
Without another word, the woman turned and walked off toward friendlier people.
Faith sat down at Michael’s side. The cat growled at her, too.
“It’s okay, dude,” Michael said, almost crooning the words. He put his hand flat
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