fandomtownies | Furnado Animal Shelter, Friday Afternoon

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Furnado Animal Shelter, Friday Afternoon

Eleanor was absolutely not nervous as the entered the animal shelter. There was no reason to be nervous. She was just accompanying Evan -- and his puppy and his tiny dinosaur -- while he bought some pet food. There was nothing significant or momentous about today in the slightest, because she herself was just going to go into the animal shelter, not actually pick out a pet for herself. Besides, it was ludicrous to just pick up another living creature and swear to love and protect it for the rest of its natural life. People didn't actually do that, did they?

Do not mind the fidgeting, Evan (or Ozzy or Old Lace).

At least the food section wasn't too intimidating, although you could easily overhear the barks and mews from the back.

"I thought cats ate mice," she said, idly, because saying something was preferable to not saying anything at all.

(Expecting

genesishero, who was modded with permission. It's an open animal shelter, so anybody else is welcome to pop in as well!)

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"Farm cats might," Evan replied, shrugging his shoulders. "But this stuff is way healthier for them, too."

He reached for a bag of cat food, the packaging proclaiming proudly that it was recommended by vets and had so-and-so vitamins and promoted a glossy coat and for all he knew, poop that smelled like lilacs.

"And besides, I don't know if I'd trust Fandom mice to be any good for a cat, anyway. Just like I wouldn't really trust my dog to live on bones. You see it in comics and cartoons and stuff, but that's not a full diet."

He put the cat food back and made a reach for Ozzy's favourite, while the dog pranced around his feet. His pup knew the good stuff when he saw it, clearly.

"I hadn't thought about that," Eleanor said. "What if there are Fandom mice, and the cats end up eating them out of instinct? I don't know how to prevent such things."

This was growing more complicated by the moment. At least the puppy seemed to be having a good time. (Adorably so.)

Lookit Ozzy's butt wiggle! Lookit it go!

"Plenty of people have kept cats around the island," Evan offered, and now he was making a serious effort to keep from laughing. "And I'm pretty sure they're all just fine. But if you do get one, maybe you can compare notes with a cat owner? Like I said, I'm a dog person."

A beat.

"And a deinonychus person," he added, patting Old Lace on the muzzle as she gave him big, sad dinosaur eyes.

"Maybe I get a dog, then," Eleanor said, inspecting the food. "I thought reading the books would settle me one way or the other, but I seem to be wavering back and forth."

She reached over, hesitantly, offering her own hand to the dinosaur, to see if maybe she could pet it. Her. Evan wouldn't keep a dinosaur if it was a known menace, would he?

"You have to wonder if they've ever taken in a stray, only for it to change into a student three days later," she mused.

"I'm sure it's happened around here at least once," Evan decided. "Which would get pretty awkward, I think, considering the way most people change back naked..."

The things Evan didn't want to think too hard about.

Old Lace gave Eleanor's hand a curious sniff, and then bowed her head for pettings. Because pettings, that's why.

Okay, the dinosaur was cute. Not exactly what she would have picked in a pet, but then, Evan hadn't picked her, either.

"I can't imagine the compromising footage they must have," she said, managing a laugh. "At least now, if I ever wake up here, I'll know where I am."

"And they take really good care of their animals here, too," Evan replied, laughing a little. "I guess they converted to a shelter because someone wanted the animals here to have the best care possible, or something like that? So you know you'd be in good hands."

He set his bag of dog food on the counter, and then gave Eleanor a sly look.

"Wanna look at the animals in the back?"

"My coat brushed at least twice a day," she laughed. "Though I'd be too humiliated to ever set foot in here again. I'd have to send others to purchase my pet-care needs."

She glanced at the back room and tried to swallow some of her nervousness. "All right," she said. "Let's ... let's go look at them."

She turned back to Evan with a sudden thought. "Is it all right to bring your pets with us?" she asked. "I expect Ozzy doesn't cause much of a fuss, but one would imagine that Old Lace might raise a few eyebrows."

On the dogs, at least. So far as she could tell, cats didn't have eyebrows. Just whiskers.

See? She'd read the books!

"Old Lace will be fine out here. Ozzy, too. The people at the desk are pretty good at keeping an eye on them," Evan explained.

And Old Lace was pretty good at keeping an eye on herself. Nobody was going to mess with a carnivorous dinosaur or her small dog friend.

"Come on, let's head in and see what they've got."

"All right," Eleanor agreed. She could do this. She was just looking -- even though some deeper part of her understood that she very well might end up adopting a pet today. It was better if she kept pretending that she didn't know that, for sure.

In the hallway, the rooms were clearly marked: dogs in one room, cats in the other. She had read the (very helpful) books and intellectually, she could recite the merits and flaws of either species, but none of that had helped her to come to a logical decision.

She couldn't say why her feet turned left, without any input from her mind. Perhaps her heart had decided on a cat without bothering to check the rational processes for input. That was probably, she realized, for the best.

She drew a deep breath, gave Evan an uncertain glance, and opened the door.

The room opened out ahead of her, full of cats of various sizes and breeds. There were cubbyholes and high beams; one area in the center had four kittens piled together on a cushion, taking a nap. People sat on the floor, or on some of the low benches scattered here and there, though those appeared to be more for the cats' benefit than the humans'. In a corner, two long-haired cats were chasing one another up a spiral staircase.

It was, somehow, exactly where she was meant to be.

Evan was a step behind Eleanor, smiling a little as he watched the look on her face as she opened the door.

Yep. Definitely a cat person.

"They look pretty happy in here," he observed. "I mean, I always kind of picture animal shelters as sad places, but these are cats who are well taken care of while they're waiting for their people to come to take them home. That's a good sign."

The cats did seem well-cared-for. There were mewings and purrings here and there, and the cat further up the spiral staircase had stopped to hiss at his (her?) pursuer. The two swiped at one another's faces for several moments before resuming the chase. Apparently it wasn't a serious argument on either side.

"A very good sign," she agreed, trying not to think of the Little Sister's Orphanage. It hadn't been a happy place even before it had begun supplying girls to Fontaine Futuristics.

A random tabby walked by them, making sure to brush closely enough that she nudged against Eleanor's ankles on the way. It was so warm here. So friendly.

"Should we ..." She let the words trail off as she took a few steps, to be away from the doors, in case anyone else were to be coming or going. Here, this seemed like a good spot.

She sat on the floor, legs crossed. A black-and-white cat was standing several inches away, giving her an uncertain look. Eleanor offered a hand, one that she (he?) sniffed thoroughly before agreeing to be petted.

"I think we're doing exactly what we're supposed to be doing," Evan decided with a smile. "Or at least the cats seem to think so. Would you like me to get you a toy so you can play with one of them?"

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Would you?" she asked. "I didn't think to look for one. I'll continue trying to make friends."

The black-and-white cat allowed her to pet for a few more moments before making a decided break for it, to the other side of the room. That was, perhaps, to be expected.

"Will you be making friends, as well?" she asked lightly.

Adopt a cat, Evan! ADOPT SEVERAL CATS.

He would almost be tempted, if he wasn't already sharing most of his side of the room with a dog and a dinosaur!

"I'll play," Evan decided, making a reach halfway across the room (yes, from where he was standing) and picking up a stick with a feather-ball at the end. "But that's pretty much where I'm going to draw my line. I don't think Old Lace would know what to make of an armload of cats."

Even if they were cute...

Evan held the feather-stick out to Eleanor.

That was a rather neat trick. She'd seen Evan stretch himself out in class before, but it was no less impressive for not being new.

"You would have to hope she didn't consider them a snack," she laughed, taking the feather stick and dangling it out in front of a her. No offense intended towards Old Lace, but those teeth hinted at her being a carnivore, and other species didn't consider cats off-limits just because humans found them cute.

An orange tabby zoomed towards it from halfway across the room, bound and determined to kill it. Did everyone see that? Because HE GOT IT.

"Yeah, it took some stern talking before she stopped looking at Ozzy like a potential snack," Evan admitted.

Her having a telepathic link with Evan also helped.

"It's probably best I limit my new fuzzy animal count from here on, though." He watched the cat zoom in for the kill, and then he laughed. "But it's hard to say no to ones that play as hard as that one does."

"After a certain point they would start to gang up on you," she agreed. It was odd, how much more relaxed she was, now that she was in this room. Perhaps this much purring was physiologically slowing her nervous heartrate. Or maybe it was the sheer amount of cute.

She dangled the feather closer to Evan's feet, and the orange tabby shifted his attention swiftly to those delicious toes he could be investigating. A few other kittens nearby were watching the stick's every move, but not brave enough to risk attacking it the same way.

Speaking of brave ... off to her left there was a cream-colored cat watching her with big eyes.

"Hello," she said, expecting her to scamper away as the black-and-white cat had, or possibly to rush forward expectantly, but the cat merely sat, sphinx-like, as if she hadn't made up her mind yet.

Evan was going to let Eleanor have her moment with the cream cat, smiling as he gently pried the orange kitty off of his feat (sorry, little guy, his room was not where you belonged), and then slipping out of the room again.

Quietly. Not unlike a ninja.

Why yes, he was absolutely going out there to gather up all of the cat supplies a first-time pet owner might need, why?

Eleanor was barely wiggling the feather-stick; she was entraced by the cream cat. Her feet were pure white, but her face had faint tabby-ish markings in a light grey color. And the cat had seemingly made up her mind, because she was on her feet, now, and approaching Eleanor.

She stopped, just at arm's-length, and so Eleanor extended a hand, expecting an investigatory sniffle.

The cat instead bumped the top of her head to the fingers, once, then again. She pulled back, hesitantly, as if expecting Eleanor to resist. Those big eyes held her own as the cat once more nudged her head against Eleanor's hand.

"It's all right," Eleanor said softly, curving her palm against the fur. "Hello, there."

She had yet to even notice Evan was gone.

It would be a few more minutes before Evan slid back into the room. In the meantime, he was talking to the person at the desk about readying adoption papers - just in case, and he was making certain there was a whole wealth of cat supplies. Food, dishes, brushes and nail clippers and a litterbox with the first bag of litter and toys, and another book, this time recommended by the people running the shelter, for a first-time cat owner.

He smiled a little as he flipped through it. There were a lot of pages dedicated to explaining what was and wasn't normal. He was pretty sure something like this was going to be invaluable to Eleanor, considering all of the panicking she'd been doing.

Panicking that, doubtless, would return, once this became real. For now ... for now, she was leaning over, a little, letting her fingers brush over the cat's ears. The cat -- she, certainly, Eleanor was sure of it -- was rubbing back against Eleanor's hands, and tentatively walking closer.

So soft. Eleanor was hardly breathing, for fear of breaking the spell. The cat grew closer, watching Eleanor's legs as if she was doing complicated mathematical equations involving them.

Was Eleanor sitting wrong? She didn't know how one invited a cat to come closer; should she straighten her legs out, making more of a lap?

The cat's glances were now darting rapidly between Eleanor's crossed legs and her face, and she put her front paws out, testing to see if it was all right. Okay to put her feet here? Yes?

After a moment, she screwed up her courage and hopped up, balancing for a bare instant on Eleanor's thigh (so light, so delicate) before jumping down into the open space formed between her folded legs.

Eleanor couldn't help it; a giggle poured out of her. Sheer giddiness, as the cat flopped itself down against her right ankle. This was ... she was thoroughly enraptured, after four seconds. How could she possibly leave the store without this tiny miracle?

She looked up to see if Evan had noticed -- except -- wait. Where was Evan?

It took him another moment to pay for the supplies, and a moment still to make his way back to the room, but it was almost as if on cue that he cracked the door open carefully, and peered inside again, wearing a silly little smile when he spotted Eleanor and her new feline friend.

"Oh," he said, nodding his approval. "She's picked you already, has she?"

"I think she has," Eleanor said, returning the smile. "I didn't expect her to -- wander up out of nowhere and -- decide she was going to be mine."

Maybe she just wanted a cozy place to sleep? But there were people nearer to where the cat had been sitting, if laps themselves were such a prize. No, the cat had somehow decided that her lap was the ideal place, and had been brave enough to assert that position.

The fact that the cat had clearly been scared only made the bravery more pronounced.

"... I ... I think I need her," she said, turning her attention back to the now-vibrating furry lump on her feet. Purring. That was purring. She was purring.

"I think she needs you," Evan replied gently, crouching down to smile at the purring cat, and then grinning up at Eleanor. "The papers are out and ready for you to sign, and all of the supplies you'll need to get started with a cat are waiting at the front desk for you, too. Old Lace and I can help you carry it all, at least until we can flag down a rickshaw."

"I ..." There were objections there, and good ones, about how she never had to take care of a living being before, and this would not end well. About how ridiculous it was to know someone for five minutes and decide their entire fate. Except ...

Except this cat did need her. Needed a home, needed love, was desperately starved for affection. All of which applied just as elegantly to herself.

"You ... shouldn't have," she said, her cheeks flushing. "I have money, I can --"

She drew a ragged breath. Was she really doing this?

"She's so beautiful."

"She's really pretty," Evan agreed. "And she seems to trust you. I didn't pay for her, though. That's your job."

See? Evan wasn't going to deny her the honor of making the cat hers, without question, officially. There was just something about being the one to make that step personally that he couldn't deny her.

"Honestly... I think you need one another. I needed Ozzy, and he's gotten me through a lot. He still is. There's something about having a warm, snuggly thing around that'll love you unconditionally. It helps."

Eleanor was going to reach down and scoop the cat up -- would she balk at that? The cat considered it, but settled in easily under Eleanor's chin. Then came the difficult task of standing up without dislodging the cat, but she managed that without too much awkwardness.

She felt ... different. Safe, secure, loved in a way that she hadn't five minutes ago. It was new, and it was wonderful.

"Thank you," she said, softly. "I don't ... know how to thank you."

Considering how ridiculously she'd been behaving, she might never have made it here herself.

"Really, my idea of 'paid in full' here involves you and your new friend having long, happy lives together," Evan replied, smiling warmly at Eleanor. "If you want to thank me down the road... I don't know, pay it forward, or something. If you see somebody who's starving for companionship the way you were, just reassure them that it's not selfish to want to do something like this?"

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Furnado Animal Shelter, Friday Afternoon

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