G o d inc 1 labyrinth of.., p.2
The Purrfect Pack (The Pack Pets Omegaverse Book 1), page 2
I arrive only three minutes late, and unbuckle the cat carrier from the seatbelt; Sunny has, predictably, thrown up in the carrier and is yowling his deep old man meow to tell me how mad he is at me. So I trot inside to check in as fast as I can, before going back to my car and trying to get everything cleaned up, without letting him escape. All is going remarkably well when I realize I was in such a mad scramble to get out of the house that I forgot to spray on the de-scenter before I left. I mean, really it is my own fault. With work, a sick kitty, and just life in general, I have been feeling overwhelmed and tired a lot. I am almost out anyway, but I’m not going to be gone too long.
I mean, I used the shampoo and the soap, so I probably don’t really need it, right? I just like the extra precaution. I rarely use it anyway because it’s so expensive and a pain to get. It’s not illegal to make or sell, but I can’t buy it. My grandpa ordered as much as he was allowed to shortly after my designation came in. I have a few people I trust online to order it to ship to me, but honestly, it's a hassle, and one of the reasons I would rather just be home, cuddled in my nest reading, dancing, or even working. But nope. I wonder if I’m going to have to open for emergency art commissions to cover this vet trip.
I start to worry, because worrying is what I do, constantly, about everything.
Taking a few deep breaths I try to calm my mind. I can’t do anything about forgetting the spray. Right now, I just need to focus on my cat and hope like hell no one notices. Shit, this extra stress is not helping.
Can I smell myself already?
Shit, no time.
For now–focus–take care of my old man kitty. Whatever is wrong, we will get through this. Deep breaths. If I have to take on more work, I will. Yeah, my heat is coming up next month, and that is going to be miserable. Plus it’ll put me out of commission for at least three to five days, but most of my regulars are awesome people. They know about Sunny, so hopefully they’ll understand.
I feel like such a failure for forgetting things.
Why can’t I do better?
What if something happens and I can’t afford to get Sunny help?
They’ll take a payment plan, right?
Why don’t I have any friends other than my old cat and a lizard?
Am I that hard to like…
STOP…this is not fucking helping me. This isn’t helping anyone.
Again, let's take some deep breaths…in….out…count of four. Come on, you can do this.
A throat clears beside me, and I see the vet technician, Maggie–according to her nametag–who came out into the parking lot to check on me. Apparently, I’ve been having my little freak-out for a while now, and they wanted to make sure everything is ok. i.e. get me into my appointment so I don’t hold up the other appointments after mine or have to reschedule.
She comes over and extricates my poor cat–who apparently was getting squeezed hard enough in my panic that he had given up on escape and was just hanging in my hug, purring, and sounding like a motorboat engine–almost as loud as one, too.
I mumble an apology, quickly wiping out the carrier with some paper towels now that I'm not juggling an angry cat and his carrier. I get Sunny put back in, and he just starts yowling again to be let out. With my head down, I shuffle after the nice, non-judgmental, tech back through the office and into a room. There I promptly set the carrier on the exam table and unzip it to let him out–and he lays inside, looking smug, like he isn’t the reason for this whole debacle.
Chapter 3
I’m counting down the time till lunch, and wondering what Jacks packed me today. I kind of love the surprise of it every day. I feel like a big nerd even admitting that, but it’s always nice to know that someone’s thinking about you–and cares enough to put thought into what you like. He always manages to do something special for each of us.
“Your next appointment is in room five,” says Maggie, walking by and putting a thick folder in the file slot hanging by the door with the number 5 in bold black print.
Either this creature has had a lot of health issues, or its geriatric. I guess we’re going to find out. I finish drying my hands and pick up the overstuffed folder.
Name: Sunny Manning
Owner: Candice Manning
Feline – Male/Altered
Main Coon Mix – Ginger
Age – 18 yrs, 6 months
Complaint: coughing, recurrent nausea and vomiting, lethargy; no change in diet or litter box.
Looking back at his history, this isn’t the first time he has been seen for stomach issues, but it’s not anywhere near the holidays. Still, we’d better get some imaging anyway, just to make sure there’s not a blockage. Still scanning the file, I open the door and step inside. “Ms. Manning and Sunny?” I verify, without looking up.
“Um…yeah, that’s us,” is the mumbled reply. “Good Afternoon. I’m Dr. Leo Asher, but everybody just calls me Dr. Leo. How can I help you today?” I ask, still reading through the overstuffed file.
“Oh, uh, well, Sunny keeps getting sick; he can’t seem to stop coughing. He’ll cough so hard he just barfs…on everything. I'm really worried about him.” The soft voice finally registers and I raise my eyes to a tiny beta woman sitting on the exam room bench. She’s wearing an oversized sweater and black leggings, her deep auburn hair is twisted up into some kind of knot at the back of her head, and I have the craziest urge to know what her downcast eyes look like. Her hand is stretched up, scratching the cat who looks perfectly content staying in his carrier on the table.
And suddenly, I can’t breathe–why can’t I breathe–why am I getting distracted right now?
Not the time, Leo, what is wrong with you, she is here for her cat, check out the cat!
It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, but she isn’t even looking at me, her attention is focused solely on the giant orange feline that she pulls out of the carrier and into her lap. Her eyes stay downcast, her lips curved down in worry. I fight the urge to reach out and smooth the wrinkle forming between her brows.
“If you could just put him up here on the exam table, I’ll take a look.” I finally get enough oxygen to speak and put as much encouragement as possible into it. She looks so lost, and for some reason I'm almost desperate to heal her cat so she’ll stop being sad.
She manages to heft the increasingly angry animal onto the table, without getting more than a low growl from it. I reach out to rub his ears and try to help him relax so we can get a temperature and check for any noticeable physical issues.
“Now, it looks like Sunny has a history of eating things he shouldn’t, so my first thought would be to ask if we can do some x-rays,” I say, pressing along the underside of his stomach, no noticeable blockages or hard areas, but there’s no way to be sure without those scans.
I keep one hand on him, leaning back and calling Maggie to have her come take the cat for X-rays, while I look over at his owner again. I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t seem to stop staring at her. She has big blue eyes, shiny with unshed tears, and she’s staring up at me.I feel like a deer caught in the headlights.
Please don’t let there be anything majorly wrong with this cat. I don’t want to see this woman cry.
Honestly I’m not sure how I would react right now.
Candice
This guy is huge.
He is tall, so much taller than me, but he doesn’t feel intimidating. Honestly, his messy black hair and dark, almond shaped eyes help sooth my frazzled nerves.
Between his calm demeanor and his barely there scent of oranges and chai, I’m less jittery than I was when I came in. I wish I could smell him better, but the purifiers and cleaning chemicals they use here block out almost everything. My instincts are screaming at me to climb him like a tree and not let go–which is a terrible idea really, but super hard to resist when he smiles like that, and when he looks at Sunny like he actually cares about helping him feel better.
I think my brain short circuited between worrying about Sunny and work. I know the name, Dr. Leo, but my brain feels scrambled right now, and I can’t think. Was that the name of the new exotic animal vet that they brought in a few months ago?
I've been nearly frantic lately, how the hell am I going to afford any extra medication. I mean, I know I’ve read about pet insurance, and I kept meaning to look into it, but I haven’t had the time, or money. Plus I always thought Iggy would be the one to need it since she is considered fancy. Sunny is just a cat, an old cat…a cat I got when I was nine–Oh Shit–I didn’t realize he was that old.
“Please old man, I know I told you to stop eating shit…er…stuff you find on the floor, but please tell me that’s what happened this time.” Sunny yowls loudly at me, indignant at the vet and his recent foray into taking my cat’s temperature. I bring my forehead down to nuzzle against Sunny's fuzzy face. The thought just occurred to me that with his age, this might be something worse. I can feel a tear trying to escape, but I don’t want to cry in front of this stranger.
What I want, really want, is for him to tell me my cat just ate something, suggest I give him some kitty laxatives, and take my old grumpus home. I’m suddenly terrified of what could happen, of what they could say about Sunny. I try to hold back the whine building in my chest, my nerves fraying. I can feel a tear slip free and run down my face into Sunny's fur.
I need to get a hold of myself. Nothing has been decided yet, they still don’t know what's going on, and…the doctor is talking.
How long has he been talking?
I raise my head, trying to wipe off the tears before they start to itch, knowing my eyes and nose are probably already red and I look like I am about to have an ugly cry.
Tall, I just keep looking up from where I’m bent over my cat, up to broad shoulders, a thick neck, soft lips, kind eyes shadowed by black hair and…WTF is wrong with me right now.
Yeah, thanks, Dr. Hottie, now can we please focus on my cat.
Was he talking about Sunny…wait.
X-rays…shit, I can’t afford–no, this is fine, I can deal with this. It's ok, I can figure this out.
I take a deep breath, let it out.
“Yes, X-rays, yes, let's do that”
Dammit, I sound like a babbling idiot.
Dr. Leo reaches back–fuck this man is tall –and opens the door; he calls for a vet tech. Maggie comes back in and they talk quietly while I go back to petting Sunny, his fur feels a bit oily and I think that when we get home I should give him a good brushing, even though I know he’s going to complain the entire time. I alternate scratching under his chin and behind his ears until he’s nothing but a big puddle of fluff by the time Maggie scoops him up and carries him away. Leaving me and Doctor Leo, aka: Dr. Hottie, alone in the room, waiting for the results.
Leo
Maggie has been here awhile, and she seems to know Ms. Manning and her pets fairly well. I normally only work with exotics. I would have met this tiny woman in a couple of months when she brought her iguana in for a check-up. But her normal doctor got called out on an emergency last night and needed to get some rest afterwards, so we offered to split up his patients for the day. While I am not sorry to have met this woman right now, I am very worried about giving her bad news about her cat. I am equally worried that she is going to hate me afterwards.
Sunny is old, and after just running the manual tests, I’m very worried about heart failure. He sounds like he has a lot of fluid build-up, and while I sent him back to imaging to verify my suspicions, I’m already fairly certain what they’ll find.
“You also have an iguana, according to your charts. How is she doing? It looks like I'll be seeing her in just about 2 months?” I’m terrible at small talk, apparently, but Ms. Manning brightens considerably.
“Oh, Iggy’s great, shedding a little bit right now, and I had to untangle her from my sweater before I left, but she’s good. You know, kind of needy and demanding, but I love her.” She sucks her bottom lip, biting with her front teeth enough to leave white marks. “Um, have you been in the area long? I was kind of relieved when I got the news that we'd be getting an exotic vet here. Dr. Harring is great, but even though we see him every time, he always refers to Iggy as a he, and asks the same questions. It’ll be nice to have someone who knows more about iguanas.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Not that I don’t appreciate Dr. Harring, I just mean… I'm gonna stop talking now…sorry.” Her shoulders slump as she lowers her eyes, and I let out a little growl of frustration that I caused her distress.
Her head snaps back up, looking at me, pupils going wide. Shit. “Sorry about that,” I grit out, “I’m terrible with small talk and I just…I feel like I should talk to you and try to get you to not hate me before they bring back Sunny.” Clearly, pre-emptive apologizing is not my forte.
The edges of her mouth lift slightly, not a full smile yet, but it gives me some hope that I haven't completely made an ass of myself. “So, have you been in the area for long? I know you’re new to Furry Friends, but are you just moving here or…?” She lets the question trail off, and I’m relieved that I’m not the only one here who’s not great at small talk.
Honestly, I think I would enjoy just sitting here and watching this woman, but that would just come off as creepy, so, I should attempt to have a conversation and not make a jackass out of myself. “No, my pack and I moved here a few years ago, but I only recently got my certification in exotic animals and…” She’s backing away, back pressed against the door to the lobby, eyes wide.
I almost didn’t hear her breath whisper out, “Alpha,” eyes squeezed shut. “Are you ok?” I don't want to try to touch her. Ok, I lie; I do want to touch her. I feel the overwhelming urge to pick her up and cuddle her until she isn’t afraid of me anymore–but before I can move closer or pull myself away, the door opens and Maggie comes back in carrying the giant orange tomcat–the reason I am in this room in the first place.
“Oh, look, Sunny's back. I’m just going to go look at those scans real quick, and then I'll be right back.” Trying to sound upbeat, the cheer in my voice sounding fake even to my own ears. Maggie eyes me suspiciously with one very raised eyebrow as I nearly run out of the room. “He was such a good boy, but I think he needs a cuddle. We'll be back in a few minutes. I’m just gonna talk to the doctor for a bit.” I hear Maggie’s voice drifting out of the room as I make my escape.
Dammit, I was a good boy, and I do need a cuddle–especially from Ms. Manning.
Then I realize she’s talking about the cat. I can feel the heat in my ears as I scramble to the imaging room, breathing hard. This is more embarrassing than that time in high school, when I accidentally walked into the wrong locker room before the swim meet. Jack’s sister, Janey, was there and then I had to deal with an inappropriate erection–in a speedo–for the rest of the event.
Maggie follows not far behind me, chuckling and wiping her eyes. “I know I shouldn’t be laughing doc, but if you had seen yourself just now. What happened?”
But heaven help me, I don't know how to answer.
I’m saved from my embarrassment when Josh, another vet tech, comes running into the room, panting. “Dr. Leo, we need you in the OR now…we just had a monitor lizard come in in critical condition.” I feel torn–on one hand, I’m relieved I don't have to be the one to give Ms. Manning the news about Sunny, but I also want to be there to offer support.
It doesn’t matter, the decision is out of my hands. So I follow Josh to the operating room as he explains what happened. One of my regular patients, Freddy, had escaped. He tried to follow his owner to the school bus and–well, traffic doesn’t always stop for big lizards.
One of his legs was broken pretty badly from when he was clipped by the car. They’re getting x-rays to check for further damage while I scrub in.
Even though I’ve only been here a few months, I have more experience with monitors than anyone else–so I guess Freddy and I have a date.
Chapter 4
Sunny curls up in my lap, coughs a few times, and starts purring his loud old man purr. By the time he was six months old he would barely fit in my lap. Now he only ever tries to snuggle this close when he’s stressed, so I know he isn’t feeling well. I stroke down his back, and talk quietly to him, assuring him he will get a whole can of soft food when we get home, and some catnip for putting up with this ordeal so well, reminding him that he is a good kitty and I love him. Every word feels like not enough and the twisting in my stomach gets tighter until I feel like I’m the one who’s going to be sick this time.
What’s taking them so long? I mean, how hard can it be to look at an image of a cat's intestines and see that he ate something that got stuck–I know I’m oversimplifying things, but the longer it takes the more worried I get. I can feel myself starting to spiral again, my breath coming in short bursts, my eyes squeeze shut. Until a paw lands on my nose.
I open my eyes, tears finally slipping free down both cheeks, Sunny is sitting up, he has booped me on the nose, and is slowly dragging the pointy tips of his nails down my face–not enough to break the skin, but I know I am going to have a few red stripes for a bit. I lift him under his front legs, bringing him up and draping his front half over my shoulder for a kitty hug. Turning my head to bury my face in his fluffy side, maybe I can pass off my crying as allergies when Dr. Hottie comes back, and it turns out to be nothing.
I don’t know how much time passes, I feel like I almost fell asleep when I hear the door open. I raise my still red eyes to see Maggie and Dr. Marklon come in. Dr. Stephanie Marklon has been my friend since middle school. She wanted to be a vet for as long as I can remember, and I’m super happy for her that she was able to make it. I know she’s worked hard to be able to buy into the practice so soon after graduating. I see her sometimes when I bring Sunny and Iggy in for check-ups, but we’ve been with Dr. Harring for so long, I didn’t want to upset anyone by asking for a new Doctor. Still it’s nice to see her, as she comes over and gives me a big hug, straining around the giant cat still draped over my shoulder.
