ONE / I MIGHT BE AN ANIMAL-WHISPERER.

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PATRICKAugust 29, 1996

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PATRICK
August 29, 1996

"Oh, my," my mother exclaimed from the kitchen. "Declan, honey, there's a moving truck!" A moving truck? Who would move onto this street?

Dad got up from his recliner next to me, sighing when he stood up. "Sure is. Should we go over and welcome them?" My sister was the next to leave the living room.

"God, mam, don't scare them off so soon."

She slapped my sister's shoulder with the blue oven mitt. "Hush. Obviously, I was going to wait until after lunch to say hi." I reached for the remote, hoping to subtly change the channel from the soapy show my sisters were watching.

Seventeen-year-old Willow laughed. "Obviously." I looked back at my sister, who was glaring at me. "Why the hell did you just change it?! I was watching that!" Willow wrestled me for the remote and won. Who could blame me? DJ Tanner had gotten herself into yet another mess and I was tired of it!

I looked to Helena for help, but she just laughed at me. "You know better." I huffed out in annoyance and walked upstairs to my bedroom.

My pets are nicer to me than my own sisters and they can't even talk! In my room, I kept a turtle and a rabbit. My sister Lillian also owned a cat, but Kit-Kat liked me way better than she liked Lillian. I think I might be an animal-whisperer.

"Hey, Jessie," I rubbed my rabbit's ears, laughing when she leaned into my hand. I named her after Jessica Rabbit, and I would never tell anyone, but she was my first crush on TV.

I heard a knock at my door and opened it to see my dad. "Lunch is ready, but I need you to get some working clothes on. The new neighbors may want some help with moving furniture." I nodded before closing my door to change.

"Look away." I told Jessie and Mikey (named after Michaelangelo, duh). Funnily enough, the two animals did. I swear they could talk to me if they really wanted to.

After eating, my dad and I walked over to our neighbor's house. It was barely four minutes away so it made sense to walk. Carrying a container of lemon bars, I waited for my dad to announce our presence to the family before we gave them heart attacks.

He called out for them but they were nowhere to be seen. Shortly after, a small girl with bright, yellow hair popped out from behind the moving van. I was the first to notice her. I waved. She waved back. Then, she ran inside the house.

A tall, blonde woman walked out of the garage door. "Hello."

"Hi! Welcome to the area," my father extended a hand and the woman shook it. "I'm Declan Feely and this is Patrick, my son."

"Therese Cahill. Nice to meet you both." She had a tired smile on her face, which I could only assume was from the move. "We just came from Dublin."

My dad gasped. "Wow, that's a big move." He rested his hand on my shoulder. "My son and I came to help, if you'd like." Mrs. Cahill's shoulders dropped slightly.

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, patrick feelyWhere stories live. Discover now