The whole thing was an elaborate production. Every move that Nana took—her pose, head tilt, sentimental eyes, and even the belly tuck—was deliberate, practiced, and perfected. This, so far, was the best trick Nana came up with in eleven years, trying to get humans to feed, shelter, and love her.
First, Nana would claim the frame of the door. She imagined it looked dramatic to whoever looked in from the other side of the door. They would see a single cat waiting, misty-eyed—a cute short-legged tabby, her tiny paws sticking out from under her round and huggable body. She would face the glass door, but her head would seat low in shy submission. When she would lift her head, mind you at a perfectly timed moment, her eyes would be wide-open in a loving plea, meeting the humans’ eyes on the other side of the door, before she would lift a paw to gently tap the glass. This almost always would receive a long “Aw” from the humans, which Nana guessed was good from the high pitch they spoke it in. Yes, she had perfected this sequence very well.
There was a rustle on the other side of the glass door, which Nana was only an inch away from now. Her nose was almost tapping its cool, glossy surface, and she could feel the air between her and the door on her whiskers.
“Psst, Murph. Visitors?” Nana almost hadn’t noticed Murphy hopping down the hallway. She would have missed him too if not for his brown ears. They stuck up over the lower trim of the glass door and contrasted with the rest of his white fur, which blended in with the walls. Murphy was fast, even for a rabbit—Cedar had once even claimed: “that bunny can jump like the floor is trampoline.”
“Yup. Got to go before they see me.” Murphy hopped away without wasting another second and vanished around the corner down the hallway as fast as he had appeared. His freedom was contingent on him staying elusive since all the humans thought he was behaving in his cage two floors up.
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. Nana could feel the rush of excitement and hope run through her veins, Murph only ran away if the visitor was a bowl and he knew they’d walk down the hall—right by Nana’s door.
“Go away,” Nana hissed. She was ready and didn’t want Harold to distract her any more than Jackson was already doing with his silent dance in the back as he prepared the cats’ food for the night.
“Your eyesight is sharp as always Nana” Harold grinned as he appeared next to her and immediately started licking his paws.
“What is it?” Nana hated watching another cat clean the dirt off of their nails. It always made her nauseous, and she couldn’t stop her gag reflex. When you added her impatience to the equation, she was quite irritated with Harold at the moment. “T4T to get you to leave me alone in under three seconds?”
Harold nodded yes to Nana’s offer. She reached into the little pouch sewn to her collar by Burt, the basement rat, and took out a small fish that was golden and smelled like cheese—one of Harold’s favorites.
“Just so you know, Sameera’s about to start,” he said while gulping down the cheesy fish. “And that was why I came over, only to give a heads-up to an old friend.”
“She— No way, not now she won’t— She did?!” Nana tried to hide the shock on her face as Sameera took her usual spot on stage, that is the window sill, in front of a crowd of cats. It was acrobatics one week, poetry the next with Sameera. Nana hoped it would be poetry today. She didn’t want Sameera to cause a commotion, not when Nana might have a chance at getting adopted. She didn’t need any distractions. All focus must be on Nana.
As if Sameera’s drama wasn’t enough, Jackson was now done cleaning the feeding station, which meant he was about to start opening the cans of food. The stress was causing Nana to have a hard time keeping her focus on the hallway… 𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. She took in a deep breath. 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰… Her thoughts were interrupted by the two silhouettes she could see at the top of the hallway. 𝘕𝘰. 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦. A tiny person was hiding behind the taller woman, causing her to trip and stumble every few steps as the girl tried to cling onto her legs.
“My partner and I want to rescue a cat. We think that a kitten would be great for Mona. She’s a shy girl, and we hope taking the responsibility for a cat can help her come out of her shell.” The woman was talking to Ramy, the father of Belling’s all animals.
“𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢” 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, Nana thought, she liked small humans, they bountifully shared their food. 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢. 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢’𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴—𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦. 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘯.
“I understand and I love your thinking. My son Eylo, who I believe is only one year older than Mona here, has become so much more confident since we opened Belling. It must have something to do with taking on responsibilities…” The soft, friendly voice of the founder of Belling Home & Vet snapped Nana out of her ‘Monana’ daydream. She took her position. They were very close now.
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