Rescue (Emily and Mason) Read Free

hard to find around here
anymore. I take one look at myself in the rearview mirror and try not to freak
out.

Chapter Two
    Emily
    Running my hands through the orange, tiger striped cat’s
fur, I find another knot and grab my brush. It would be a shame to cut off all
his pretty fur. As I’m gingerly working the knot out, one of the other regular
volunteers pauses in the doorway to the medical room. She puts her shoulder to
the doorframe. Jesse and I have been chatting more and more lately. I would
like to consider the raven haired, tall woman a friend, but friends tell each
other the complete truth. She has no idea about the fact that I’m a foster kid.
    “No one’s been able to touch that cat since it was brought
in last night. He’s been pitching a fit in that cage every second of every hour
he’s been here. You get out a brush, and he’s like putty in your hands. How the
hell do you do it?” She sounds genuinely stumped over my ability to keep Cream
sickle calm. I named him myself; all the fuzz balls in here need a name, so
they feel like they’re something to someone.
    “I show him respect, and he shows me respect back.” It’s
something I learned when I was just a small child. Most animals are more afraid
of the human than the human is of the animal, but a calm, clear respect usually
brings them around.
    “Right, well when you get to his butt; make sure to show him
plenty of respect as your cutting out those shit balls.” Jesse flips her hair
up into a neat ponytail and smiles at me before she walks away. I lean down to
the cat to whisper to him that she has no idea what she’s talking about. I
won’t be cutting out his shit balls. I’ll wash them out with some wipes and
then brush them.
    Cream sickle and I both cringe when a whiny voice comes over
the speakers. There’s something about this song that makes me want to vomit
somewhere. As I’m brushing and cleaning, Cream sickle washes his paws in front
of him, patiently waiting for me to be done with it. The time comes for me to
put him back into his holding cell and he stiffens in my arms. Most of the cats
don’t like their metal cages, and I don’t blame them.
    Who would want to spend hours on end in a metal cage when
they could have the entire room to play in? But Cream sickle hasn’t been
cleared for play with the other kitties in the greeting rooms. I give him a
gentle hug before I put him in the cage, gently picking each one of his claws
out of my shirt as I do so. He yowls one time for me before he lies down in his
bed. Perhaps being clean is enough for now.
    I move on to the next cage, another cat that needs brushing.
There are strict policies on cleanliness here so as not to spread disease. So I
pull out all the hair from Cream sickle and shove it into a medical waste trash
can, and then I dump the brush into an antibacterial bath before I dry it on a
towel. Once the brush is sufficiently clean, I pull out Midnight. I didn’t name
her, and I don’t care for the name.
    “And this is our feline holding room. These are the cats
that are not available yet for adoption and need to be cleaned up and checked
out. Oh, Emily!” Gail, the resident veterinary assistant, comes bustling
through the door with a man in tow. He’s a few years older than me by the looks
of it. He’s also absolutely petrified but trying to show a cool bravado on the
outside.
    “This is Emily, she volunteers every day here, even on
Sundays. If you ever need to know something and I’m not around, you should
probably ask her.” I feel a flush hit my cheeks. Wow, I do volunteer here every
day. Now that it looks as if I have no life, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome is completely
off limits.
    Gail moves further into the room with her brown, curled hair
up in a ponytail and her hazel eyes narrowing as the new guy steps closer to
me. I see her shoulders stiffen; she knows I don’t like physical contact. He
sticks his large hand out anyway and smiles shyly at me. Oh man,