ArchivedLogs:Grumpy Cat

Grumpy Cat
Dramatis Personae Anette, Steve	2016-08-18 "What's the worst that can happen?"
Location <NYC> New Leash on Life
A thin sliver of a rowhouse recently converted to a spartan but functional kennel, New Leash on Life's headquarters isn't much to look at. Its back yard is fenced, but almost comically tiny, not fit for anything except an extreme emergency potty break. It is, however, right next to a very nice dog park, and volunteers can often be seen taking dogs in threes and fours to play there. Inside, the first floor is taken up by the reception area, a small office with an even smaller break room, the kitchen, and a few temporary kennels by the back door. The second floor consists almost entirely of smartly partitioned kennels for dogs, while the third floor is reserved for the cats and other, smaller pets. There are water bowls, dog beds, leashes, poop bags, cleaning supplies, and tubs of treats tucked into every available corner of the place. Thursday afternoons at the shelter are relatively slow, especially a scorching hot one like this. The building doesn't have central HVAC, and the numerous window and split air condition units scattered throughout create a lulling blanket of white noise. The teenaged receptionist is staring blankly at Facebook, her eyelids drooping. Steve has just returned through the back door with four winded, panting dogs on leashes. He's wearing a tight gray UnderArmor t-shirt which barely shows that he is drenched in sweat (though his spiky blond hair certainly shows it), black athletic short, and blue jogging shoes. The receptionist sits up, comes alert again, and shuffles out from behind the front desk. "I'll put them back, /you/ get some water before you fall over dead." She doesn't wait for his assent, but takes the leashes from him and heads upstairs. He doesn't argue, and with a muttered "Merci" goes into the break room and emerges with a vintage steel canteen in a olive drab canvas sleeve, chugging from it as he wanders into the reception area. The front door opens and Anette steps in, looking around almost cautiously before she closes the door behind her. She's wear a grey tank-top, denium cut-off shorts, and cheap flip-flops. Unusually for her, her talons and wings are on full display, though she tries to avoid attracting attention to them. Too damn hot to hide, even under a thin coat. She takes her time glancing about the reception, though when she hears Steve enter, she quickly darts her eyes towards him. Yellow eyes scan his form appreciatively for a second or two before she takes in his face, reognizing him with a faint grin. "So this is what you do when you're not zombie hunting," she says, finally making her way further into the room. Steve lowers the canteen and flashes Anette a smile. "Welcome! Please, come on in out of the heat." He picks up a towel and mops his forehead. "I apologize for my appearance, I just came back from exercising some of our higher-energy pups." He sets down the canteen. "I do a lot things when I'm not zombie hunting, actually, but this is one of my more pleasant past-times. Are you looking to adopt a pet?" Anette can't help but flash him a grin as he tries to apologize. "Oh, don't be sorry," she reassures him. She actually pauses a moment before giving a light shrug at his question. "I don't know. A friend told me about this place and I...needed to get out of the house for a bit so I thought I'd check it out. Though the idea of having something around the house sounds nice." Steve nods as she replies, and picks up a tri-folded brochure from a clear plastic rack full of them on the receptionist's desk. "I can give you the whole New Leash on Life pitch, but if someone's sent you this way you probably know this shelter is about." He offers the brochure, somewhat casually. "We started out rescuing pets orphaned or abandoned during the zombie outbreak, and we really strive to find long-term homes for them, but a lot of people do foster for us, too. Pet ownership is a big decision, after all!" He picks up his canteen and drinks again, sets it down. "What sort of animal were you thinking about?" "Yeah, he mentioned the history." Anette takes the offerend brochure and glances it over as she talks. "I'm thinking something more traditional. I'm not really the ferret or iguana type. Maybe a cat? I've been more of a cat person. Less needy than dogs, too." She folds the brochure up and slips it in her pocket. "Foster? That'd probably work. I just figured I'd look around, see what you have. Maybe one'll jump out." Steve nods again. "We've got quite a few cats -- some of whom aren't /much/ less needy than the average dog, but there's a whole range." The receptionist returns from upstairs and resumes her place behind the desk, doing a double-take with Anette but making no comment other than, "Welcome to New Leash on Life!" Steve waves Anette toward the staircase. "Come on, I'll show you. Hopefully none jump out at you /literally./" He ascends the stairs to the third floor, which is occupied by a large number of kennels, cages, and even a few terraria. Most of the animals there are cats, though with a few birds and exotics off in their own corner. He sweeps a hand along the rows of kennels. "Take a look. We can always bring them out if you'd like to interact with them, too." Despite stating her preference, Anette does look over the birds briefly, especially a rather cheerfully singing cockatiel. "If I weren't cleaning enough molting feathers...maybe," Anette says, giving the bird a friendly smile before she resumes wandering the kennels. She takes her time, looking over the various pets, pausing occasionally to look over a few before moving on. She even glances over some of the more exotic pets, despite her earlier disinterest in them. How often does one get to see a tarantula up close? It's not until near the end of one of the aisles that she actually looks genuinely interested. It's an adult cat, vaguely Persian looking with a long coat and flat face, though likely a mix of several breeds. He's curled up in the back corner, yellow eyes angrily watching anything that passes by. His fur is a bit scruffier looking than others, though it's clear an attempt has been made to make him look presentable. Most notable is his lack of a left hind leg. It's hard to say why it's gone but it's long healed over, so probably not result of zombies. When the cat realizes Anette is looking at him, he growls, a low rumbling sound from deep in his belly, and his tail gives an annoyed flick. Somehow, this only seems to make Anette more interested and she can't help but grin at his apparent distaste for her. "What's his story?" Steve stands back and lets Anette take her time looking over the animals, offering only occasional names and tidbits. He comes over and kneels down next to the kennel containing that cat that has caught Anette's interest. "His name is Kappa -- at least that was the name on his kennel before the sign fell off, but cats get renamed pretty casually. He's been here longer than I have, so I'm not sure about the details of his arrival, but I do think he was brought in by one of the patrol teams, fairly late on -- after the quarantine had ended and most of the dust settled." He glances aside at Anette. "I'll give you fair warning, he's not very friendly. Not /aggressive/, either, just...grumpy." Steve's presence provokes a full blown hiss from 'Kappa', though he sets his head down and resumes his silent judging of everything and everyone. This does not deter Anette in the slightest. "Sure he wasn't a stray you accidentally kidnapped?" she teases, still watching the cat before turning towards Steve with a grin. "So...how does this foster thing work?" Steve does not seem either surprised or bothered by the cat's open dislike of him. "Like I said, he's been here longer than I, so...no, I'm not sure at all. There might be some more information in his actual file, but I don't recall there being much." He sits back onto his heels and braces his hands on his knees. "Broadly, fostering means you keep him for a while -- we recommend three weeks to six weeks, but obviously if a pet isn't a good fit for a household for whatever reason, they might come back earlier. A lot of people foster as sort of a trial period to adoption. More specifically, there's a questionnaire and a form to fill out, but the process isn't as involved as adopting." Anette presses her lips together, turning back to watch the very angry kitty who has apparently decided his two admirers aren't worth his time and, after circling no less than six times, is now facing away and taking a nap. "The name will have to go. But I like him. Let's try this foster thing out." She gives a slight chuckle before looking towards Steve again, ready to seriously discuss this. "What's the worst that can happen?"