Page 16 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
“Hey, Gwen, going to visit Marty?” the gate-guy asked as he scanned my pass on my phone.
“Yep,” I nodded. Marty was a good listener.
Wishing I could justify buying a coffee from the cart, I walked around the zoo. The summer weekend made it crowded. Usually I came at odd times, bright and early after yoga in the park, between classes, right before closing. It was still nice–and calming–to visit all my animal friends.
I wandered my usual route, including the aviary and the reptile house. Finally, I ended up at the tiger enclosure. I’d always loved animals. My nonna had been a veterinarian. One of my cousins had taken over her practice. An aunt ran an animal sanctuary that Nonna and I would volunteer at. Also, I’d brought so many animals to the rink that the coaches made a rule about it.
Several people had gotten pets out of it. Marty was supposed to bemine. There’d been a big snowstorm in January. It had gotten bad quickly, and I’d been walking across campus to get to the subway before I got stuck there. Marty had been in a tree and I’d climbed up to get him, tucked him into my hoodie, and brought him home.
The little gold and white striped cat was so small and cute–and cold. Marty kept me company through the storm. Austin had been away with his team and had gotten stuck there when the airports closed. After we’d lost power, we used the gas oven for heat and stayed in the living room. I fed him kitten formula that Mrs. Jenkins had left over from fostering, and tiny little scraps of meat.
When Austin came back, he’d fallen in love with Marty, too. We’d decided to keep him, since pet rent was minimal.
Then I had to find out my kitten was a mini golden tiger cub that somehow escaped from the zoo when he’d been brought in from a raid. Ugh, not fair. Fail, kitten distribution system, utter and totalfail. No, do not recommend.
Clark and Dimitri had gone with me to the zoo to give him back. The zoo had been excited and gave me the pass as a reward. It was sweet, but not the same.
I walked around to the viewing area on the side where the little tigers played. The keepers successfully integrated him with some cubs, and he was thriving.
Whistling, I called Marty, and he came bounding over to me and I played with him through the glass. I put up my hand, and he put his paw there.
Sometimes I wish I would have kept him. I mean, he was aminitiger. Sure, he’d be a big cat, but tiny for a tiger. Who’d know?
No, it was the right thing to do. Animals were expensive to care for.
Still, I wish I had some Marty cuddles.
Trixie, one of the zookeepers, saw me and waved from the tiger side of the glass as she brought out some enrichment items. I stayed in the little nook against the glass and watched, the little tigers making me giggle.
Eventually, she finished and disappeared. A bit later, she came out to the viewing area. Trixie was a blond omega and worked with the mini tigers and tiger cubs. Omegas were great with predators, because they usually weren’t seen as a threat–and many times got ‘adopted’ by alpha animals. She’d been kind about letting me have time with Marty and had even gotten me trained to play with the mini tigers in the playroom. Sometimes we took Marty for walks.
“Hi Gwen.” She grinned. “Do you want some playtime?”
“Please?” My chest shuddered. I needed to tell him all my woes. He was a good listener, as were flowers and stray animals.
“Are you okay?” She eyed my forehead and bruises, then gave me a big hug, smelling of bubble gum and tiger.
“I broke up with Austin.” It came out like a wail.
Her arms tightened. “It’ll be okay. Tiger playtime will make it all better.”
“I hope so.” My heart ached. I still couldn’t believe that he discarded me so easily for some deal he never mentioned, with people he hated.
That he’dhurtme.
We went into the playroom, which looked a bit like a kid's soft-play area, and had all sorts of toys and obstacles for the mini tigers. One wall was glass, so that people could watch the tigers play.
Trixie used her badge to get me in through the employee door, then used another door marked employee that opened into the tiger area, so she could get Marty.
“Marty,” I squealed when he came out and ran toward me, straining against the leash.
Trixie unclipped the leash, and he leapt in happiness.
“I missed you so much. You won’t believe what happened.” I sniffed, picking him up and snuggling him. He was a goldentiger, so he didn’t have any black stripes. Baby mini tigers also looked a little more like house cats than their bigger brethren.
Marty was so much bigger than when I’d found him. Not that he was nearly as large as he’d be if he were a regular tiger. Mini tigers were one of several wild animals genetically engineered to be house pets. While mini giraffes were a hit, mini tigers weren’t what people expected and were ending up in zoos and rescues.
Obviously, people didn’t do their research. I could take care of a mini tiger just fine. They didn’t even get as big as malamutes.
