Phone Tag (Shidge/Klance)

Chapter 14

Author's Notes:

Here's to 3K reads and surviving the first semester of highschool

My goal is to actually finish old books like these

"Sorry, Takashi. Pidge isn't here right now. Try calling again in a couple hours. Say, do you have her schedule? I can give you that if need be."

Shiro mumbled a "thank you" and hung up on the woman with an Australian accent. Or was it English? Whatever, it didn't matter.

A hiss followed by a weak mew from the box caught Shiro's attention. Mama Bear—as he'd decided to call the grumpy black mother—hissed at one of her kittens. He was the smallest of the litter—the runt, no doubt.

His four siblings suckled greedily at their mother's teats while he cried in the corner. Shiro tried to nudge the runt over to Mama Bear and the four other terrors, but she pushed him away. Did cats ever reject their young? Or was the runt just not going to make it?

He'd have to call in the expert.

"Hey, Hunk, what should I do if a cat rejects her kitten? I mean, do cats do that?"

"Yeah, they can. Why?"

"Well..." he described Mama Bear's behavior as best as he could over the phone.

He heard Hunk let out a long sigh. "I'll be on my way over with some bottles and formula and show you how it's done."

No more than fifteen minutes later, Hunk was at his door with a kennel and a plastic shopping bag close to the point of breaking open. "As it turns out, the shelter has room for Mama Bear and her kittens, but they're short staffed on people to care for a rejected newborn kitten."

He dropped the bag on the table and withdrew its contents: a canister of a white powder. "Once you open that, put it in the fridge."

"What is it, exactly?" He looked at the label, but only found mixing instructions.

"Powdered formula. You can buy it at the pet store if you run out. But I have like, three of them. I don't think you'll run out too soon." He popped the lid open and sniffed. Hunk gestured for Shiro to come closer and do the same.

"It smells sort of sweet," Shiro noted.

"That's how you know it's good. If it doesn't smell like that, toss it. When in doubt, throw it out."

Shiro nodded—the last bit of advice Hunk said applied to anything in the bakery. If it seemed even slightly suspicious, it was best to toss it. "Gotcha. Anything else I should know?"

Hunk was already rounding up the cats into the carrier—an impressive sight. Shiro could never get the mother to warm up to him, let alone persuade her to move anywhere. Hunk had a gift with cats—and the occasional dog, apparently. And he could bake just about anything. Was there anything Hunk couldn't do?

Hunk locked up the carrier once all five were inside. "You're going to have to keep her warm. Never, ever feed her if she's cold. You'll need to warm her up slowly."

"How can I tell?"

Hunk picked up the runt. She was small enough to fit into the palm of Hunk's flour-crusted hand. "Okay, feel her paw pad."

Shiro did—with the thumb of his hand. The little bean-like toes were smooth and soft. He had a feeling they were probably squishy as well. "It's cool."

"Now put a finger in her mouth." Hunk opened up her tiny jaws with the utmost gentle touch.

"Also kind of cool."