Page 32 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

“Emily,” I cut in, trying not to lose my shit laughing. “Just breathe, okay? Where exactly are you?”

“My apartment, drowning in cat mouth poop!”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there in twenty.”

The hallway stinkslike someone died behind the walls, and something sticky as hell grabs my shoe on the fourth-floor climb. By the time I reach her door, the door flies open before I even knock. Emily looks like she stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. Her eyes are wild, and her hair shoots in fifty directions. Her ratty T-shirt saysI’m probably thinking about pizza, and she’s wearing these shorts that show way too much leg for my sanity.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re here.” She drags me inside with scary-strong hands. “Crime scene’s over there.”

She points at three normal hairballs on her kitchen floor.

The apartment’s a glorified closet with a toilet. The furniture looks like she mugged a thrift store. Nothing matches, but somehow, it doesn’t look completely terrible together. Books are piled everywhere, And there’s Demon, sprawled on top of a bookshelf, casually licking her paw like the queen of the damn universe while chaos reigns below.

“Look at her!” Emily digs her nails into my arm. “Acting all innocent after breaking the laws of freaking nature!”

I drop my bag and check out the crime scene. “These aren’t mouth poops, Emily. Just hairballs.”

“Wait, what?” She flaps her hands at the evidence. “Why the hell do they call them balls? They’re not remotely ball-shaped! They’re like nasty cylinders! Should call them hair-logs or hair-turds or?—”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to bring that up at the next vet convention.” Can’t keep the laugh out of my voice. “Your cat’s fine. Totally disgusting but normal.”

Emily stares at me as though I’m speaking another language, eyes darting between me and the hairballs. “So... cats are supposed to barf up poop-shaped things?”

“Not poop. Just hair they swallow when they’re licking themselves that clumps up in their stomach.”

“So it’s... stomach fur... barf?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s nasty as hell.” Her face scrunches up.

Demon watches me approach with that superior cat look that says,This human thinks she owns me. Isn’t that adorable?

“What’s up, kitten?” I mutter under my breath. “Making your mom lose her mind?”

She lets me pick her up with just enough squirming to maintain her dignity. A quick check confirms what I already knew. The cat’s healthy as hell.

“She’s fine,” I tell Emily, who’s hovering behind us, still glaring at the hairballs as though they might attack. “All cats do this gross stuff.”

“How the hell is puking up hair-tubes normal?”

Demon jumps from my arms as if she’s been insulted, and Emily smacks her forehead. “Oh, crap! I dragged your tired ass over here at ten thirty at night for fake poop!” Her face goes tomato-red. “I’m such a disaster.”

I finally lose it and laugh. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

“But I bet nobody ever calls their vet screaming about their cat’s mouth poop.” She groans, shoving her face into her hands.

“Let me help clean this mess up.” I nod at the hairballs.

“God, no. You’ve done enough. I can handle the nasty hair-turds.”

“Shut up and let me help.” I grab paper towels from her cluttered counter and squat next to the first hairball. “All part of the emergency service.”

While we clean, she keeps shooting me these embarrassed looks. “Next time I’ll just Google cat barfing weird shit before freaking out and calling you.”

“Or just call me.” My mouth runs ahead of my brain. “Boss’s orders.”

Something changes in her face that makes my heart slam against my ribs. “Even at ten thirty when you’re dead tired?”

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