Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Peach Lips has raised over a million dollars for charities around the world, and that’s just in the past three years.
I happen to be one of “those people.” You know, a content creator. But I do have a job besides filming my cat. I vowed early on that all the money from her stardom would go to helping other animals who don’t have anyone to love them. And there are so, so many.
Peach Lips was once one of those.
Abandoned. Sick. Alone.
I found and saved her, and it might be corny as all fuck, but she saved me too.
So, having her back in my arms after I thought I might literally lose her causes a full-on nuclear meltdown. Tears, hysterics, head-peppering kisses, a tight hug—the whole bit. Peach Lips is used to being in crowds. She’s an ambassador, in a way. She loves people. She’s used to being picked up, petted, and loved. She’s very gentle.
When she was living on the streets, she got Scabies, and her fur never grew back properly after. I’ve tried everything, but it’s just a no-go. Either that or she’s actually mixed with something that doesn’t grow regular fur. Her genetic tests didn’t indicate it, but the company who did it also said she was an extreme case of mixed breed, which I’m pretty sure was nice talk for your cat is so messed up that even we have no idea.
I kiss that bald spot with only three single hair strands sticking out on her head so many times, soaking in her warmth and the weight of her in my arms.
I come out of my own little relieved to the point of real tears, snot, and blubbering sobs world to see the would-be cat nabber getting roughly hauled to his feet by four members of security.
Mr. Glowery Muscles SECURITY T-Shirt Newly Made Hero watches the whole thing with his hands on his hips.
“Are you okay?” A tall, red-haired female also with SECURITY across the front of her T-shirt asks when she appears, towering over me.
I nod, not trusting my voice because I’m still an epic, snotty, tear-stained mess.
“We’re going to have to fill out an incident report. You might even have to make a statement with the police.” She glances at Peach Lips and smiles. I mean, how can people not smile at this pure ball of angelic love? “You’ll probably want to get her back to your booth and get her settled. If you stay there for a little bit, I can send everyone over. I’ll try to make it as fast as possible because the convention is nearly over, and people are already packing up.”
“Thank you,” I mutter with a gulp, sniffling as loud as a bullfrog bellow. Literally. I don’t have a tissue, so I have to turn my face and wipe my nose on the sleeve of my wildly loud pink and green cat zombie print dress.
“You’re booth two-thirty-two?”
“That’s right. You know everyone’s booth numbers?”
“Nah, just yours.” The woman’s eyes get a little twinkly. I’ve seen that before—when people meet Peach Lips in person, and they realize they’re experiencing true magic. “I haven’t even been able to get there. It’s been so busy. I’m so excited to meet her in person. She’s such an inspiration for disabled senior pets everywhere, but for people too. I’m so happy you won your ribbon again this year. She’s not ugly. Are you, honey?”
I can tell she wants to pet her, so I extend my arms slightly, leaving Peach Lips’ back open.
“I’m Amanda, by the way,” she tells me as she reaches out. Her hand shakes, but when it makes contact, she strokes gently. A few seconds later, she wipes tears away. “There’s so much beauty in the world in so many different ways. Peach Lips is so special because she shows that even the discarded, the disabled, the elderly, and all the things people see as something that can be tossed out are important and worthy. Not everyone can afford to have a special needs pet or a senior pet, but more people should if they can. Peach Lips has no teeth, one eye, and she’s patchy all over her body. She looks like an alien animal, a werewolf, a dust bunny, and a pile of two-year-old compost had a baby, and that’s wonderful! She’s unique. I have never met another cat like her. Bless your tiny little soul, angel. You’re just straight-up perfection in a tiny little ball.”
“Yeah.” My tears are still flowing. “All of that. I one hundred percent agree.”
“Do you want me to bring you back to your booth? You look a little bit shaken up.”
“I am shaken up. If something happened to Peach Lips, I’d…my…my whole world would be over.”
Amanda gives me a sympathetic look. “I understand, honey. Let’s go.”
She escorts me through the crowd, her hand resting comfortingly on my shoulder. She offers to help me pack up the booth, but by now, I’m quite efficient at it. I know she has a job to do, so I let her get on her way. She promises to stop by as soon as she can, and I appreciate that.