Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Nichole held back a laugh. Coffee sounded good, actually. But she didn’t need any.

“Aww, is that hostility I sense?” Angela purred, egging on her cousin.

“I don’t see you on tour,” Gerard retorted, the ends of his black hair flying around slightly as his head shook while talking. Angela just cackled.

As amusing as it was, Nichole decided it was best to stay out of it. She took it as a cue to regretfully return the little rat to its temporary “home” until its fate crept up on the poor creature.

Everything has to eat, she knows that. That’s not the problem. She has nothing against snakes, just some snake owners. Well, herp owners, to be more precise. There’s no reason you have to feed live. Granted that’s how it is in nature, but this was different to her. Who gave some reptile owner the right to choose which mouse or rat got to be constricted to death? And still, that’s not her problem. It’s not a pleasant thought, but what really got under her skin was how disrespectful select herp owners were to their pets’ food.

She wasn’t a reptile person, but she respected the majority of herp owners. She understood that most people were either fur fans or liked scales. But there’s absolutely no need to dangle rodents by their tails for amusement. If you’re going to feed live, fine! But don’t make it worse than it already is.

She had been scarred from when she was 15, when she saw a video of a rat being dropped in a tank of piranha. For two weeks, every time she closed her eyes, that’s what she saw. She couldn’t sleep and she couldn’t go 10 minutes without crying. And there’s no reason to pull every leg off a cricket, while holding it down with tweezers. You bought it for food for your lizard, stop fucking around. If you’re bored go jerk off or something. She smirked at her always perverted mind.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory, trying to will the scene to stop playing in her head. She was on the verge of crying now. Just thinking of how the animals feel when put into a situation like that. Then people turn around and get mad at the rat or mouse when they get bit or their reptile gets injured.

Well people, put yourself in their paws. If some giant decided you were the “chosen one” to be fed to his pet dragon, would you be scared? Would you fight?

She mentally slapped herself. ‘Shut the fuck up!’

It was times like these were she absolutely despised her photographic memory.

She stood staring at the now awake and confused rat that had recently been sleeping safely in her arms. He walked over to the front of the barred metal cage and lifted himself up to a stand, placing his tiny paws on the bars and looking back at her.

Maybe Angela was right; but everything did deserve love. Perhaps she just wasn’t the right one to give it at this point in her life.

‘Falling into old ways?’ she questioned herself

Nichole bit her lip and flashed an apologetic look at the little rodent, turning on her heel and exiting the feeder room. She blinked a few times to dry the start of tears that had formed in her eyes. Taking a deep breathe, she lifted her head up and surveyed the area around her, catching the eyes of Mikey Way, who smiled innocently at her. His smile made her smile back. It was genuine and caring. She went to take a step forward to go talk to him, quietly shrieking to herself and jumping slightly when someone behind her spoke. She whipped around to be met with Frank. They looked each other in the eyes for a moment, before be broke eye contact and looked her over.

“No rat?” he asked, pointing a finger close to her belly button, gesturing to where the rat once laid in her arms.

She shook her head. “…put him back,” she mumbled, glancing at the floor. She soon composed herself and her head shot up. “Where did you disappear to?” she asked Frank.

“Fish,” he grinned. So she was right. Nichole grinned back, then she sighed complacently.

“Well, I’m going to go visit with the cats and dogs,” she informed, shuffling her feet and taking a glance each at Mikey, Gerard, and Frank. She smiled and then set off up the small ramp, turning the corner and landing herself in the cat and dog area. She was a bit startled when a figure of someone entered her vision, but she smiled after realizing it was Bob. She should have known that's where he'd be. He looked behind him, obviously sensing a presence and a shy smile emerged on his face.

She heard talking behind her and a familiar voice, otherwise known as Frank, and for some reason, she smiled. He talks a lot. She guessed he wasn’t the loud one who had been shouting earlier. No, that had to be Gerard.

She stood still, her head slightly tilted back, looking at the top row of enclosures. There was a little gray spotted tabby, walking in small circles. She stepped forward and tapped on the glass lightly, ignoring the many signs that clearly said not to do so. The kitten looked up and then walked over to the front of the glass, swishing its’ tail. Nichole pawed at the glass with her hand, the kitten reciprocating her motions and she saw the feline’s mouth open. She smiled and walked over to the door in the corner that led into the back room, where the grooming, feeding, and cleaning were done. She tapped gently on the wood, waiting patiently for a response. Nothing. Nichole sighed. “God damnit, mother fucker,” she mumbled. She had a low frustration level.

Nichole turned around to Gerard interacting with a gold English Setter puppy through the glass of one of the enclosures. His hand danced around the surface, the puppy bouncing and tripping over the toys on the floor. You could hear the faint sound of barking, and the dogs tongue hung leisurely out of its mouth.

“Wanna play?” Nichole asked.

“Pardon?” Gerard replied, shooting his eyes to her.

“You can actually touch the dog, you know. Would you like to?”

There was a snort behind her, and then a fit of giggles. Finding the giggling contagious, Nichole let out a few, biting her lip to stop. “What?” she asked, trying to contain her amusement.

Frank appeared to her side, his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He shook his head, putting his other arm across his chest and hooking his hand in the crook of his elbow on the arm that was over his mouth.

“Uhmmkay,” Nichole murmured, making her way around the corner and back down the ramp, looking for Angela. She spotted her friend Joelle peering into a snake enclosure. Her and snakes. She was a respectable owner. Joelle had a Ball Python and two corn snakes. She always wanted more, but now with getting the divorce, she would have to stop adding to her pets, seeing as though she’s never worked. Her husband made the money, and Joelle took care of the animals. She wasn’t even what you would call a housewife. They had no kids, and Nichole thanked God for that. It wasn’t that Nichole didn’t like Joelle’s husband, but they never made a good pair.

She found it hard to believe that Joelle had never once considered that they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives together. Yeah, yeah, that’s what marriage is supposed to be. But seriously, you stick an 18 year old into a marriage, something’s astray. Joelle always had unrealistic expectations, and now she was going to have to taste for the first time what it was like on your own. It was going to be hard as hell, and Joelle needed Nichole. Joelle had lost touch with a lot of her friends, and therefore her support system when she moved to another town with her husband.

Nichole sighed, pushing the thoughts out of her brain. She wasn’t there to dawn on her friend’s predicament. She was there to relieve stress, not analyze it. Nichole checked in the feeder room for Ange. She wasn’t in there. Nichole walked a straight line, looking down the isles that contained dog and cat food; she wasn’t there either.

She got up to the pet rodent area and knocked on the closed door. It opened, and Nichole looked down to a hunched over Angela, who was cutting open a box with a box cutter. Angela didn’t even look up.

“Hi dork,” Nichole began. “I need the keys to the cat room door.”

“Ugh…” Angela groaned, flustered. She stood up straight and reached down her front pocket and pulled out a ring with two keys on it; one for the door, and one for opening the enclosures. She handed them to Nichole without a word, continuing her escapade with the box. Nichole laughed while walking away.

Back where she belonged, Nichole slipped the key in the door, shoving it open with her shoulder and stepping inside. The door creaked. She went over to where the English Setter was and opened it, scooping up the puppy, trying to avoid getting her face licked. She stood in the doorway with the puppy in her arms.

“Pssssst,” she said, looking at Gerard’s back, as he was talking to Frank in front of her.

Frank looked over and nudged Gerard in the shoulder. “Gee,” he said, pointing over to Nichole.

Gerard turned around, gasping. “Puppy!” he squealed. Nichole rolled her eyes, opening the door to the play area, waiting for Gerard to go in. “I’m good,” he said, replying to her wordless wish.

“No, in. I’m bringing a cat out.” She moved her hand like a traffic conductor, showing her impatience. Bob's eyes noticably lit up and he stopped tapping on the glass to where the kitten was and waited. Gerard huffed and lightly glared at her, moving into the playroom. She shut the door. Frank came over, draping himself over the wall to the room and playing with the puppy.

Nichole returned into the back room, sliding the key in the kitten’s door and picked it up.
She flipped the kitten over gently. Boy. Everything was a boy today. She exited the room, petting the head of the kitten softly, listening to the quiet purring.

“Motorboat, motorboat,” she whispered quietly. Her grandmother used to say that. She walked over to Bob, who stroked the kitten from head to tail. She pushed the kitten toward him. He accepted her offer and cradled the kitten in his arms, smiling.

She heard Frank giggle again and turned to see him looking into the room with Gee and the puppy. “Arf arf!” Gerard barked at the dog, swinging his hand around its face, grinning like a child. Nichole smiled.