This was inspired by the “Rescue / Recovery” square of my January Story Sparks Bingo Card. 656 words, it is the completion of the story started in Cause of Ignition: Unattended Flame and Diagnosis: Carbon Monoxide Toxicosis.
Patient Discharge Instructions
Priscilla, having endured the indignity of a water-wet-gross bath, spent the long bright night within the ow-don’t bite-stay still box. Her entire prison had been swaddled in weird see-through cling (which tasted bad when she’d tried biting it through), then a small clear snake head had been popped through the top and began to hiss air in a loud cold stream. Priscilla had tried hissing back for a while, but the silly tiny snake head never shut up, and never moved again, so she’d decided it was a very stupid snake and did her best to ignore its hiss. Instead she’d curled herself into the tiniest ball in the corner of the ow-don’t bite-stay still box she could manage, draped her fluffy black tail over her paws and muzzle, and lay frozen in fear with a swimming head the entire night.
The strange man who’d brought her to the Chemical Stink-Ouch Stabs-Bad Touch-Panic rooms had been replaced by a humming woman as morning light finally began flooding the windows. Priscilla hadn’t moved, and the strange humming woman hadn’t approached her until the sunlight had moved across the floor halfway from Sun Came Back! side to Sun Went Away! side. At that time, she’d been joined by another human in a long white coat, who had smelled like scared animals, but under that, really happy animals. Priscilla had not been a happy kitten, and had puffed herself up to maximum fur usage, because even the thought that they’d take her out of the ow-don’t bite-stay still box wasn’t reassuring when she’d known that coat. That was the Ouch Stabs-Bad Touch-Top Cat of the humans, and Priscilla hadn’t thought she could fight them off with her head so woozy.
She’d been valiant, however, and counted it a win for her side that she’d bit the humming lady as she tried to steal Priscilla’s fur with a growling mouse shaped machine, and then she’d gotten a good set of scratches onto the hands of the Ouch Stabs-Bad Touch-Top Cat of the humans before they could pin her to the metal table and steal all her blood from her whole body. They did manage to take a little though, so perhaps it had been a draw.
Now as she lay in a different ow-don’t bite-stay still box, chewing on the stringy fabric they’d wrapped around her hurt forepaw, Priscilla’s ears twitched and nose filled with the most pleasant thing she’d smelled in ages – Mistress! Priscilla could smell her! And a hint of old Rupert, but that’s fine, just fine. Rupert was her good buddy, of course, always she thought so! She began a purr that could nearly vibrate the grating of the ow-don’t bite-stay still box and reached her unharmed paw through the bars into the air beyond. She’d grab Mistress as soon as she could and never let go again, she promised!
She heard Mistress talking to the humming lady for an unreasonably long time. Didn’t Mistress know that Priscilla needed out of there NOW now? Yowling for rescue, Priscilla continued reaching for her human.
“Finally! You’re Here, Come Get ME!” Priscilla was screaming, but the humans just pretended they couldn’t understand her demands. “Please?” she wailed.
Then it was over! She was transferred to the softer ow-don’t bite-stay still box her Mistress had used the day she’d been rescued from the no petting-not home-no hope place, the one that only smelled like Priscilla. And her Mistress was petting her, and giving chin scritches, and Priscilla licked daintily at her fingers, tasting human, Rupert, and just barely lingering smoke.
She didn’t know where they’d go, the furever home had been eaten by the fire, but Priscilla was sure it’d be just perfect. Anywhere with her Mistress, her good buddy Old Rupert, and herself (beautiful brave Priscilla) would be a perfect place. And she’d stay off the tables too. At least whenever they had flame sticks burning on them.