Chapter 3APP: Animal Whisperer

The moment I stepped out holding a meat cleaver, Leo’s roars shook the very ground. His front paws slammed against the bars, his eyes a furious, bloody red. He thought I was going to hurt him.

My hands trembled, but I took a deep breath, pulled two large chunks of meat from a bucket, and began hacking them into smaller pieces right in front of him. Then, I placed them in his food bowl.

Leo fell silent, stunned.

[Stupid human. Trying to trick me with the same old slop?]

I typed quickly: [Wouldn't dream of it, sir.]

I had a feeling this lion had spent some time down south, too.

Next, I added a nutrient supplement to his water trough. Leo was skeletal, his skin showing through his sparse fur, crisscrossed with dozens of scars. One of his hind legs was broken, forcing him into a limp, but he still carried himself with the fearsome grace of a predator.

I didn't know how he’d gotten hurt, and I was too afraid to ask.

Leo exploded again. [You're putting stimulants in my food! You think that'll make me jump through your stupid fire hoops for an extra hour? You little weasel, don't even think about it!]

His roar was so loud my eardrums throbbed. He even knew insults from back east.

I held up my hands in a calming gesture, then drank a few drops of the nutrient liquid myself to prove it was safe. I'd checked the ingredients; it was harmless. A couple of drops wouldn't hurt me.

Leo froze. He gripped the bars of his cage, staring at me with a bewildered expression.

[Hey, pipsqueak. You're not... you're not trying to make me perform?]

I typed: [I just want to make sure you're getting enough to eat. (And please don't eat me.)]

He eyed the food suspiciously, nudging it with his paw and sniffing it a few times. Finally, he took a hesitant bite. His eyes widened slightly. He then devoured the rest of the meat in a ravenous frenzy.

After drinking his water, he looked up at me. The fury in his eyes had softened into confusion.

[You actually fed me. A full meal. What's the catch?]

[You waiting for me to be full so you can beat me up? You snake!]

I was at a loss with this multilingual, trash-talking lion. Words were useless. I had to show him I meant no harm.

So, I brought out a portable speaker, set it to a low volume, and played some soft music—a soundscape of the savanna. The gentle thrum of a deer herd's hooves, the quiet rustle of a meerkat nibbling on roots, the low gurgle of a giraffe drinking from a waterhole, the distant call of birds flying against a setting sun...

Leo seemed to drift away, lost in memories of his home. He lay down, his body relaxing, listening intently as the tension slowly drained from him.

Bella, the monkey, chimed in: [Okay, maybe this human isn't so bad.]

Beau was skeptical: [She's only being nice because Leo could rip her to shreds. What about us? She plays music for the lion, but not for us. Classic favoritism!]

Bella: [You're right! But I don't want music. I want to watch Crown of Thorns*.]*

I got the hint. I found an old tablet in the storage room. Miraculously, it still had a streaming subscription. The moment the familiar, dramatic opening music began, Bella and Beau leaped from their cage and sat transfixed, their eyes glued to the screen for that famous, tense paternity test scene.

I shot a quick message to the director: [Thank God you're a VIP subscriber.]

He didn't reply, but a moment later, thirty thousand dollars appeared in my bank account.

Just then, the app buzzed with a new logistics update: [A large animal is scheduled for delivery...]

I grabbed my small shovel, cleaning supplies, and disinfectant, and got to work preparing another enclosure. An hour later, a peacock, as white and pristine as fresh snow, was delivered to the aviary.

I had never seen such a magnificent creature. Compared to the scruffy monkeys and the scarred, skeletal lion, I couldn't imagine what kind of help this elegant, noble bird could possibly need.

A new user, Blanche the Peacock, appeared in the chat.

[Hmph! And just who do we have here? A wicked, short-lived human, I see.]

[From the looks of you, you're no genius. Figures they'd send me the keeper nobody else wanted.]

Was I really getting roasted by a peacock on my first week? I almost had to laugh.

This bird was the definition of pride. I tapped open her profile on the app.

[Blanche: suffers from deep-seated insecurity and paranoia. Prone to testing her keepers to see if they truly care for her.]

[Her previous keeper subjected her to long-term emotional neglect, leading to severe depression. Blanche has attempted to starve herself to death twice. After her failed attempts, her keeper abandoned her...]

Suddenly, I understood. It seemed my job wasn't just about physical care. I was going to need a crash course in animal psychology.

As I rubbed my temples, another arrival was announced. This time, it was a small cat, one that had clearly been through hell.