Ten Things My Cat Hates About You. Lottie Lucas

then, of course,” the receptionist trills, triumph colouring her voice, “the final straw was when he bit poor Stacey. She was traumatised.”

      I wince. That was pretty bad. Who knew a tiny nip from a cat could produce so much blood?

      “He sensed that she was nervous, that’s all,” I reply quickly, with a mollifying smile. “Inexperienced. Perhaps he took advantage a little, I’ll admit. I’m sure it happens all the time.”

      She looks at me sourly. “It doesn’t.”

      I feel my face fall. Wow, she’s a tough nut. I thought it would be easier than this.

      “We had to sign her off with stress, you know,” she’s saying now. “It was weeks before she felt up to facing another patient on her own.”

      I sense that I’m getting nowhere with this line of attack. She looks completely and utterly unmoved. If anything, she actually looks even stonier than she did when we first came in. So, flinging my pride out of the way, I resort to the only tactic still available to me: shameless pleading.

      “Look …” I put Casper down on the floor, where he immediately starts terrorising a Jack Russell sitting under the nearest chair. Placing both hands flat on the counter, I look her straight in the eye. “I understand why you don’t want him in here, I do. But I haven’t had time to find him another vet just yet, and now he’s injured. I don’t know where else to take him. So will you please just see him once more? Then I promise you solemnly that I will take him far away from here, find another surgery, and we will never darken your door again.”

      For the briefest of moments she looks on the verge of relenting. Then the Jack Russell whimpers from beneath the seat, cowering away from Casper. She purses her lips, and I know that I’ve lost her.

      “I’m sorry, Miss Swift,” she declares, not looking particularly sorry at all. “But it’s just not possible.”

      A cold sensation lodges itself in the pit of my stomach as I take in her words. What am I going to do? This was my one and only plan. I look down at Casper. He’s lying on his side, panting heavily. I’m willing myself to calm down, but it’s not working.

      Then, from the doorway through to the surgery, an unfamiliar voice speaks. “I’ll take a look at him.”