But before I can do that, Piper appears, smiling softly.
“Hey. You want to take the front desk for a bit?” she asks. “It feels like I’m always up there while you’re back here doing the grunt work.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “It keeps me busy.”
“There is no way you’re excited about chores. Go take the front for a bit; I’ll handle it all back here.”
“You sure?”
Piper sighs fondly and tilts her head. “Maeve. Before you came here, it was just Blair and me running back and forth doing all the errands,” she says gently. “Having you here has made ourjobs much easier. I don’t need to be lounging at the desk all the time.”
“This job is the best job I’ve ever had,” I tell her honestly. “Retailsucks. I’d rather scoop litter all day than go back to those shifts.”
She chuckles. “Oh, I’m aware. Been there, done that. Now go to the desk and make a viral video for us. As long as you’ll be okay with the scents up there?”
There’s a twinkle in her eye when she says it, as if she’s challenging me.
I roll my eyes and head out of the playroom to see Alvin perched on the edge of the front counter expectantly. He’s on a soft blue blanket with a fish pattern, created by Blair’s packmate, Travis. The rescue is full of different swaddling blankets and tiny kitten hats courtesy of him.
We used to receive anonymous donations of adorable blankets for the animals, and we only found out recently that it was Travis sending them the whole time.
Blair’s love story with her pack is adorable. So is Piper’s.
I hope that my story with my pack will be just as sweet, if not more.
And hopefully, Ivan is involved with his sweet caramel apple scent.
I wouldn’t mind if a certain vanilla and bourbon aroma had something to do with it, too.
Plopping into the desk chair and rolling it to the computer, I log in to one of our media accounts and begin to work on a post about Alvin. He’s gone viral in the last week, so hopefully, posting more about him will get eyes on the rescue.
Only three more hours until my lunch break, then I can finally meet Logan.
Will he like me? Will my scent entice him, like his calls to me?
Or will he just think I’m the weird girl with purple hair?
I try not to think too much about it, instead busying myself with replying to comments and inquiries about Furs and Purrs.
My goal is to make every resident in Luna County know who we are. Even if someone doesn’t like cats, they need to know the name Furs and Purrs as a resource in case a cat needs help.
Which has actually happened. We received a message from a grumpy old guy the other week, telling us that there was a litter of kittens in his backyard and he didn’t want anything to do with them, and someone needed to come out and take care of it.
I happily went with my brother to the house and almost got the surly Beta man to crack a smile before we left.
So, I’ll be damned if the Beans and Alvins of the area don’t get the support they deserve.
After a good hour of work, I hear a gentle chirp.
Alvin paws gently at my left hand, interrupting my typing.
“Hey,” I warn him. “Blair says you’re on a diet. I’m not supposed to give you any treats.”
It’s tempting, though. It’s hard to say no to his grey face, especially when he flirts with his slow blinks.
Wait…
“What’s wrong with your eye?” I ask, a flare of panic spiking in my chest.
