Sherlock: Lover Mine [Book II]

The Tortie {Susanna}

Vera leads us into their Cat Center and I stifle a series of cooes as I look around the large chamber. Many of the cats are out playing on cat palaces or strolling around the floor. I sneak a look at Sherlock who smiles cheekily. He had to have asked the staff to let the cats all out for me. I grin, "Seriously, Sherlock?"

"Yes, Susanna. Go on and look." I set my purse on the little table by the door. Then I target a light gray shorthair cat and start from there.

I take the time to observe their behavior just as much as I play with and pet them. The ones that are the most mild mannered and friendly are the ones I spend the most time with, "Are there any you like, Susanna?" Sherlock asks after about half an hour. His voice is laced with a smile of its own.

"A few, but the important thing with cats is that they choose you as their person," I turn around to look at him and see him holding up his phone, "Oi! Sherlock!"

"For all the times you photograph me, Susanna." He retorts. I blush and continue playing with the cats until I decide that I want to see the kittens. Vera obliges and we step into the next room. Sherlock grabs my purse for me, and holds it dutifully in front of him as Vera walks me around to see all their kittens.

I stop at a litter of energetic tabbies first and gently lift one up. I pet and play with him for a minute or so and when I don't get the right vibe, I set him back down and try a couple of his siblings. No. Not feeling a connection yet.

Vera leads me around the rest of the litters; Tabbies, Shorthairs, Calicoes, Folds, Mixes, and more. I notice Sherlock watching me closely, probably observing my methods of selection.

Eventually I arrive at a young litter of fluffy, fuzz-covered kittens with ear tufts and big paws. I smile, "Are these hybrid too? They look like Norwegian forest cats but their coats are lighter."

"Yes. We rescued them along with several other litters from what was practically a kitty mill. You are very close, these ones are Ragamuffin mixed with Norwegian Forest Cat. Have you had many feline conpanions?"

"Yes, I've had cats almost all of my life."

I feel drawn to this particular litter so I reach in and let the kittens explore me. While I observe and play with them, Sherlock steps out for a phone call.

A minute or so later I fixate on one specific kitten. She's the smallest, most likely the runt, and like her brothers and sisters she resembles a puff ball on legs. She's a lovely tortoiseshell; a black and orange nose, autumn leaf fur and bright blue eyes. Her ear tufts are adorably long, and her fluffy tail has slight orange rings at the tip, like a racoon. I watch her behavior for a while, appreciating that she has the personality of a queen bee and doesn't let the bigger ones discourage her from getting to me. But she isn't alarmingly aggressive either, just assertive.

I inhale and pick her up gently, taking her pink padded paws one by one to examine them. I'm not surprised to find that she has polydactyly, with six toes instead of five. A common mutation. What does catch my attention is that her front claws are curved in like ram's horns. But this doesn't seem to affect her health and wellbeing at all.

I smile and bring her closer to me, "Hey there." She looks at me, swerving her head like a mantis, and mewls.

Vera chuckles, "Somehow I knew you'd like her. You seem like the type to love the unique ones." I laugh, nodding.

"Oh yes. Does she have a name?"

"Not officially. We want owners to name their new pets themselves. We call her Autumn because of her fur though."

I nod and carry the kitten to my chest, letting her investigate me. Her nose twitches as she sniffs around me. I pet behind her ears and then stroke her back. Rabbit soft fur. Just as Sherlock walks back in, the kitten curls into me and starts purring strong and loud, flexing her paws, "Have you found one, Susanna?"

"I believe so," I reply. A few seconds later she squirms and manages to scale up my front, perching on my shoulder and curling up with her head against my neck, in my hair. She slicks her head happily over my neck and purrs even louder, "Alright, she's the one."

Vera cheers and I gently remove my new companion from my shoulder. I turn around and find that Sherlock is holding a brand new cat carrier. He knows that I gave away Barney's, and my smile becomes a grin, "You thought this through, Sherlock."

"Of course I did. I think everything through." He gives me a quirky smile and I laugh, walking over and kissing him full on the lips.

"Thank you, Sherlock."

"You're welcome, love."

Half an hour later we walk out of the shelter with my newest furbaby; Ziva.

Thank you for reading!!