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“What do you think the towel is for? It’s not to keep you warm. It’s feeding time and you’re going to do it.” I retrieve the bottle from next to the chair and hand it over. We get the kitten to latch on, and Mallory cracks a smile.
“Where’s the little one’s mum?” she asks.
“The kittens came to us starving in a cardboard box. We don’t know what happened to their mum.” I frown. It’s sad that this is an all too familiar scenario, but at least they can come here for help.
“Aww, that’s awful. It’s a good job they have you.” She strokes the little one’s head.
“Yep. Someone has to feed them every two hours.” I smile. I love every cat that passes through the doors. Even the grumpy, timid, and scared ones.
“They’re more needy than me.”
I laugh. “Cuter too.”
“Hey, take that back.” She pouts.
I pretend to think about it. “Hmm…”
“If I didn’t have my little friend here and a broken leg, I’d be poking you right now.”
I wiggle my hands in the air. “Ooh, I’m scared.”
She frowns at me, but there’s a hint of amusement. The kitten licks her lips and her eyes turn heavy. I swap her for one of her brothers, allowing it to snuggle back into the litter. We feed them all and Mallory gets more affectionate with each one. Seeing Mal enjoy this task warms my heart, but I try not to show how happy it makes me.
“What now?” she asks when we’re finished.
“This shift is slow because we have two hours until the next kitten feed. Other than emptying litter trays, there’s not much to do.”
“Do you at least have a TV, or a book on bird watching?” She seems amused with herself for including the birds.
“You have a room full of the best hunters. No books required. Maybe it’s the birds that need educating on staying alive.”
“So, who do you fancy as your favourite?” She gestured around to the cats.
“I spread my arms wide. “These are my family. I don’t have a favourite.”
“I meant as a hunting champion. Moggy’s your favourite. That’s why he got to come home with you.”
“Shhh! They’ll hear you.” I look around like we’ve been caught doing something naughty. She rolls her eyes.
“These cats do not speak our language.”
“They can read our auras.”
She shakes her head. “No, they can’t.”
I make us a drink and we settle down to play one of the games from the cupboard. Mallory wins most of them, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying the company.
* * *
It’s late, or should I say very early when we finally get home. I park up, and tiredness washes over me. Slowly, I open the car door, and Mallory follows me out of the car. It’s been great having her with me tonight, and the time went fast, but I’m ready to crawl into bed.
“Admit it. Looking after animals is a close second to extreme sports journalism,” I say as I unlock the door. The cool air has revived my tired eyes a little.
“Now you’re taking it too far. Actually, come to think of it, you owe me a day’s work. You’ll have to come to New York and help me pick out an adventure.”
I let her step in front of me and through the door first. She turns on the light, and I lock the door behind us.
“What’s this? I showed you mine, so now you want to show me yours?” Recently, I’ve seen enough of her to make me blush, and my choice of words gives me a visual I’d rather avoid.
