Page 104 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

The shelter was rowdy with tiny mewling kittens climbing a cat tree in a special kitten room, and a trio of cavalier puppies tripping over their own long ears. Grumpy senior dogs thrust their white muzzles out at Zoey, who wished she could adopt every single one of them.

Nick’s farm did have room for a menagerie …

‘You’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?’ Nick held out the back of his hand for an elderly Lab to sniff.

Zoey did the same for a furious-looking Maine Coon, who regarded her with brutal indignation. ‘Alice wouldn’t mind some friends, right?’

‘She’s excellent at making friends.’

Zoey smiled. (The Maine Coon did not return the expression.) ‘I know. She’s basically the whole reason I ever gave you the time of day. Well, that and your astonishing good looks. And your mushrooms. Although I regret being swayed by the mushrooms.’

‘They did make life interesting there for a bit. And they helped take the edge off meeting my sisters,’ pointed out Nick.

Zoey waggled a finger at a fat yellow lizard called Banana. ‘Good to know I intimidated Larissa as much as she intimidated me.’

‘Enough that she went back and got a proper tattoo in the end,’ said Nick, with a grin. ‘She’s never been able to turn down a discount card. Not even on her lawyer’s salary.’

‘Is that so? I’ve got a whole bunch of vouchers from Fred Meyer, if she wants some cheap baby carrots and fifty cents off a Luna bar.’

‘You two are going to get along just fine.’

A shelter volunteer came up, dressed in a seasonal Resist Frog sweater – perhaps there were some Christmas-in-July festivities going on later. Or a protest. Or perhaps both. Pinned to the sweater was a nametag that read Dorian.

‘Nice sweater,’ said Nick, with a nod. ‘We stan an amphibious legend.’

‘Thanks. My nan made it,’ said Dorian, twirling to show off the back of the sweater, which read Fascists fuck off in knitted cursive. ‘I wear it every Thursday. Oh my goddess, are you Romero’s representatives?’

Nick and Zoey nodded.

‘Good timing. We just got done dealing with a furious Burmese.’ Dorian showed off some angry scratches on his arm. ‘He arrived in quite the state, although he’s doing a lot better now. We thought rabies, maybe oleander poisoning. He kept trying to chomp on other animals’ heads, and he was making the weirdest noises. Almost like he was trying to talk.’

‘Did it, um … sound like “braaains”?’ offered Zoey, doing her best zombie-cat impression.

‘Yes!’ Dorian looked surprised – perhaps even impressed – at Zoey’s cat-impersonation skills. ‘We called in the big-cat specialist from the Oregon Zoo, but even they had no idea. Anyway, he calmed down a lot after we gave him his neuter and ID tattoo.’

Zoey cocked her head. ‘His what?’

‘Ordinarily we do microchips, but, you know, budget stuff. And we have a tattoo-artist apprentice who volunteers. Inkstigators – that place on Hawthorne? – donated the ink. Anyway, since the tattoo, he’s been fine. Although we’re probably going to get him assessed for behavioural … quirks. Anyway, welcome, Mayor Romero. Do come say hi to our adoptable, freshly ID-tatted kitties. We’ll pop your photo up on our socials, if you don’t mind. It’ll be great for adoption numbers.’

Mrow, said Romero.

‘He consents,’ said Zoey.

Dorian led Nick and Zoey over to a glass-walled room housing a variety of cats, half of whom were napping, and the other half of whom were harassing the ones who were napping. A voluminous Burmese clinging upside down to a cat tree meowed feistily at the sight of them.

Dorian grabbed him in a practised move, passing him to Zoey.

‘He’s looking pretty spiffy,’ said Zoey, stroking the fluffy cat. ‘No signs of residual, um, rabies or anything.’

‘Wait, is that Ro-mayor-O, of Cat Nip fame?’ Another vet tech came over, an enormous bunny rabbit cradled in his arms. If Zoey didn’t know better, she’d have assumed that this bunny had simply eaten all of the other bunnies in order to acquire such size. ‘I voted for him! I follow him on Instagram.’ The vet tech pulled up his phone, showing Zoey the account.

Zoey chuckled. ‘Ah, my friend Ainsley set that up. When she’s not writing signs she’s writing viral posts.’

‘She’ll get headhunted by Wieden+Kennedy if she’s not careful,’ said Dorian.

‘I somehow can’t imagine Ainsley working for anyone other than herself,’ said Zoey. And she couldn’t – Ainsley played better with others than Zoey did, but creatively she was a free spirit.

‘Here, can you hold this?’ Dorian passed Zoey a sign that said Endorsed by the Ro-mayor-O, snapping iPhone photos of Romero with the other cats and kittens.