Canterlot Animal Control

by Lingo

Chapter 1: Canterlot (Exotic) Animal Control

When dealing with wild animals, it is never a good idea to turn your back on them. Of course, I think this as I intentionally turn my back on a wild tiger. This isn't the first time I've done so in my career, and if the nobles keep on insisting on getting exotic pets, it won't be the last time.

Getting off-topic. Tigers. They're big cats, hunters. Following base survival instincts, they are bound to seek refuge in a location in which they can most easily hide. In the crowded city of Canterlot, that area tends to be some stuck up unicorn’s private garden. That's where I find myself playing this predator-prey game today, a large walled garden in the upper district of Equestria’s Capital.

I hear a little rustle behind me, the hint of labored breath. All according to plan. I take another few steps, my hooves making damped beats on the grass. I could walk quietly, but I’m not trying to hide my position. I want my opponent to know where I am. I also make sure my back stays facing the stalking tiger. Even my ears are turned away, though straining to hear regardless. I need to maintain the illusion of obliviousness, that is my role in this game.

At roughly the center of the garden, I calmly take a seat on the soft grass. While waiting for my opponent to make their next move, I idly wonder if I was first pony to take a leisurely seat here. It was common amongst the upper class to have beautiful and well kept gardens, and then to never set hoof in them.

It's eerily quiet, nothing but the soft movements of the grass and the gentle sway of flowers. The kind of uneasy calm that preludes a storm. And if my opponent is playing their part correctly…

I slowly turn my head to look behind me, right into the eyes of a full-grown tiger. It's face is mere steps away, it's body frozen mid-stalk by my gaze.

This part is crucial.

I rotate the rest of my body, coming to face the predator fully, never breaking eye contact.

Fun Fact: Cats don’t need to blink. They only do so as a form of communication or expression, along with squinting. So when I choose to blink, I do it slowly and purposefully. Calm. Collected. Not afraid. My breathing is deliberately smooth. I’m essentially trying to communicate that I am on equal ground, not above or below them.

And luckily for me, my message comes across clearly. It’s haunches lower, honed muscles relax, eyes squint at me slightly. I even spot the flick of a striped tail. I breathe a sigh of relief, combing the fur on the back of my neck with my leg.

When dealing with wild animals, it pays to be able to speak their language, relatively. Of course, it doesn’t always work. But I’m prepared either way.

Subject pacified. Next step, assess condition.

I shift closer to my new ‘friend’, giving him a critical once over. And it is definitely a ‘him’, now that I’m close enough to notice. He’s hurt, but I already knew that from the gardener. One leg isn’t bearing the same weight as the others, there’s a shallow gash on his side that possibly extends down to his stomach. Nothing in this garden is sharp enough to cause those, or in Canterlot for that matter. So he fled here from somewhere else.

Not my problem.

After some coaxing and almost nudges, he’s still a wild animal, I get him to the exit where I have my wagon waiting. He is wary at first, but limps inside once he smells the fresh fish I had stashed.

Yes, it pays to be prepared.

My wagon isn’t anything special, a cage-box with wheels really. The Canterlot Animal Control logo painted on either side. Or as I thought of it, Canterlot ‘Exotic’ Animal Control. Aside from a few birds and small critters in the palace gardens, there are no animals in Canterlot. But since the city borders the forest, and some nobles like to have expensive exotic pets, I’ll always have a job.

Once I’m hitched up, I pull the wagon away from the sizable property and head off down the street. As always, I get a few odd looks from the ritzy pedestrians. I feel their gazes burn on my horn and how I hadn’t used it since I arrived, not even to pull the wagon. I ignore them, leaving upper Canterlot behind me.

A short trip through Lower Canterlot and I reach my facility bordering the outer wall. The Canterlot Animal Control Headquarters. It’s actually a repurposed dog kennel, shut down after a bill passed making walking your dog illegal in most of the city. One too many nobles must have stepped in something that ruined their day, if I had to guess. The fines were set so high on it that many feared even letting their furry little friends outside at all. Fewer ponies adopted, fewer dogs got out to breed and make puppies, less money and support for the kennel.

So it went out of business, and the building was bought for low by an aspiring young mare who wanted to work with animals. Not quite a teen, barely an adult. She paid for it with money made from walking dogs, before the bill was passed.

Anyway, I get my new tenant into his own cell and write a letter to my veterinary partner. Ok it’s not really a cell but I don’t have a better name for it. It’s a really comfy cage, with food and water and a nice bed. And it’s only temporary. Once he gets treated, I can try to introduce him to the other cats and animals. As long as he’s not aggressive, he’ll be able to sleep wherever he wants.

With the letter penned and sent via bird, I can relax in my almost office. The ceiling had collapsed in the actual office before I moved in, and I don’t have the bits to get it repaired. So I moved a desk into one of the larger rooms and put up a privacy curtain behind it where I have my cot to sleep in every night. It’s not glamorous, but I’m content.

By the time I finish the paperwork for the tiger, I receive my reply. She’ll be here this evening. It’s afternoon right now, so about an hour's flight. She doesn’t usually come this late, preferring to show up in the wee hours of the following morning... She must have some free time today, but it’s not my business. She works for dirt cheap and the animals love her, that’s good enough for me.

I mean, sure, she’s also adorable and has just the prettiest smile you’ll ever see, but that’s irrelevant! She’s a great vet and, like me, doesn’t let the fact that she isn’t an earth pony stop her from working with animals.

With time to kill before she arrives, I lay down in my cot and rest my head on a nice soft turtle-shell…

Turtle-shell?

I lift my head to inspect where my pillow should be, and do indeed find a turtle-shell with the owner just starting to poke his head out. He looks up at me slowly with what I imagine is a smile.

Yes, hello Sherman. Nice to see you again too.

The old codger just smiles back up at me.

He’s one of the critters that have been with me the longest, primarily because he hasn’t been fond of leaving. I relocated him once, and three months later he was back at my door. His usual activities consist of making the two-day journey to and from his food and water bowls in another room down the hallway. So every two days I find him inexplicably on my cot where my pillow would be. One of the other animals must help him up, or he has a pair of wings that he hasn’t told me about.

I even tried to move his food to my office so he would not have to make the journey, but then he refused to eat. He just stared at me. My guess? It’s a pride thing, proving he can,orr something.

I don’t speak turtle.

As is our routine, I take him into my forelegs and lie down again with him against my chest. Satisfied, his head retreats back inside. I manage to catch an hour and a half of sleep before the vet arrives.

Well… an hour for her to get here, and another half hour for her to summon the courage to wake me, or ask one of the animals to do it for her.

Great caregiver, but not an impulsive bone in her body.

I nudge away the bird that was tickling my nose with a feather, yawning and greeting the petite pegasus.

“Good evening, Miss Fluttershy. Did you have a safe trip?” Sherman gets gently placed back on my pillow. Do I spoil him? Maybe a little. I sit up and stretch my neck, turning to the pegasus standing in my doorway.

Fluttershy smiles warmly, her feathers ruffling a bit at being the center of attention. During our first meeting she never came out from behind her mane, now she only shies away a little bit when talking to me. It took her several weeks to get brave enough to tell me her name. I’ve never heard her talk louder than a whisper, so to say she is soft-spoken would be an understatement.

“Hello Miss Keen Eye. The flight was nice, calm. I ran into a skein of geese on the way, they were very polite.”

Did I mention she can actually talk to animals? Yeah, I’m not jealous at all.

“I’m sure they were. Thank you for coming on such short notice. This isn’t our first big cat, but this is the first one with more than just a broken claw or dislocated shoulder. I appreciate your help.”

And your next-to-nothing cost of service, that’s great too.

“Oh it’s no bother at all, I had a spa date with my friend Rarity planned, but she had to cancel. Something with another of our friends I think…”

Not my business.

I wordlessly lead her to the tiger’s room, letting her ponder her canceled plans in peace. When we arrive, the tiger is curled up in the far corner and facing the doorway. Cautious, defensive, totally expected given his situation. But he won’t be like that for long.

As if on cue, Fluttershy brushes into the room towards him, going against everything I would do when approaching a cornered, injured tiger. His growl does little to deter her, she pats him on the cheek and tells him not to worry. In no time she’s fretting over his wounds while he watches, perplexed. If I had to guess, he’s got no clue why he is letting the strange mare do this. He doesn’t fight it, just silently accepts the situation.

Comically, he turns his questioning gaze toward me, searching for an answer. I shrug in reply. This is par for the course with her.

Twenty minutes later and he’s all bandaged up and relaxed, having just been subjected to a shoulder massage by the mare. It sure looked enjoyable, I’m honestly a little jealous.

Because it looked really nice! N-not because it was her doing it!

She pulls her hooves away, doing a final check on his wrappings. That’s my cue. I make my way to them, sitting down on his other side. I take my hoof and gently brush it along his coat, up and down the back of his neck. He tenses at first, then relaxes again. Another step on the path to recovery taken. Once he trusts me, I can work with him to get him ready for release back into the wild.

I pull away before getting too ahead of myself. He’s not a house cat, despite how he had sprawled himself out for Fluttershy. I pushed his boundary, successfully, and that’s enough for today.

I close the door behind me as I follow Fluttershy back to my office. She writes me a note about proper treatment and dietary needs for the tiger, then attempts to quickly bid me goodbye.

As if it was choreographed in a studio, she trips on the rattlesnake that had snuck inside my office and lands in a heap beside the office door. I trot over and looked down at her, eyebrow raised. She blushes, caught again in the little act we have. Every time I ask her to come and treat an animal, she attempts to leave without being paid. I may have allowed it the first few times, but I’m a professional now. So I started to set little traps with the animals for her, catching her before she scurries off. This time it was a rattlesnake, last time it was a family of rabbits (the adorable little vandals had devastated a small garden in Lower Canterlot before I was called in).

I usually use a snake, such curious and mischievous critters. It would be hard to get them to help without the assistance of the rattler currently smelling Fluttershy’s nose, whom I’ve taken to calling Speed Bump. Bump for short. She must talk to the other slithery fellows for me, otherwise I’d have to assume all of the snakes I’ve caught are telepathic.

Snakes are my favorite animals.

Bump does not respond to my mental outburst, it looks like I’m in the clear.

I manage to get Fluttershy to accept a small pouch of bits before she leaves, but it’s never easy. I make a mental note to never enter a nice-off against her.

I feel Bump coil around my leg and slither up my back, the cheeky thing. She doesn’t let go as I go through my evening tasks, refilling food and water for the rest of the residents of my facility. She doesn’t even budge when I pass by the snake enclosure, despite the tantalizing warmth from the heat lamp set up and the small pile of other snakes curled up underneath it.

I guess I’ve got two bedmates for tonight, which is far from strange. I rarely sleep alone. Since there are only a few locked doors in the facility, critters can roam as they please. That includes my office, and ultimately my cot. I have a few regulars, Bump and Sherman included, that choose to sleep with me on occasion. It’s just something I’ve learned to live with.

I wonder if Fluttershy has to deal with this too.

---

A few days later, I'm finally letting the big cat out to frolic with the other animals. Once he got to trusting me, he was practically tame. Which is weird...

I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. Who am I to question someone acting contrary to what's expected? With a flick of my hoof, the latch releases and the door swings open. Last night he was pacing his cage, a little restless. A sign he was well enough to walk around without me hovering over him.

I'm letting him out into the enclosed yard I have connected to the building. High fences, slightly greased. They'll leave when I allow them to, not a second before.

The fences connect to the walls of the building, with a large doorway opening to the inside. The animals here are free to go in and out as they please, I put up a heavy curtain in the winter to keep the heat and cold where they belong.

I'll wait a few minutes to see if my new tenant is brave enough to go out, they are often reluctant. Luckily, I have some snacks in my pocket, in case I need to lead him out with tasty goodies. But before I can even lean on the cage to begin my wait, the tiger walks out.

He struts right out like he's done it before. Usually, I have to coax new arrivals out with food. The way he lazily exits and begins to mingle with the other animals in the yard tells me that he's been in this kind of situation before. Maybe this isn't the first time he was captured?

I ponder that as I put the cage away, almost crushing my hoof in the process. I lift it to my face to see if I hit myself, and I catch sight of something even more strange. Near the far end of the yard, the tiger has found an odd new friend. As I watch, a small white cat approaches him and starts affectionately rubbing against his legs.

Even more odd, the big cat leans his head down to nuzzle the little one. A house cat and a tiger? No critter can make friends that fast, barely a glance.

I squint at the small white kitty, remembering why a common house cat is in here instead of a home or kennel. I had been called a few days before the tiger to restrain a 'violent feline', and was surprised to see the little bundle of fur flinging itself around a park on the outskirts of the city. It was not playing, but terrorizing any who came close. Like a.cat possessed by a demon of tartarus. It took me nearly an hour and a few scratches, but I managed to walk away with it purring between my shoulder blades.

Cats are crazy.

It interacts with the other animals fine, but has a serious hate for ponies. Except for me. And Fluttershy. But who’s surprised there?

But this is the first one it’s blatantly been affectionate with. I’ll have to keep an eye on those two.

It’s not until the evening that I get some clue.

I do my last checks before locking up and heading to bed, saving the yard for last. AS I suspect, they sit leisurely hugging the outside wall, the one facing the forest. Their posture tells me that they are a relaxed, but the flick of a tail and the swiveling of perked ears says differently. A little on edge... perhaps.

I shrug, they can’t jump over the walls on their own and there’s no rule against sleeping outside. I tell myself that it’s nothing to worry over and go to bed.

The entire next day they spend over at that wall. My curiosity is piqued, and I sneak over when they go to get food from inside. There is nothing special here, no extra ray of sunshine to bask in, no special toys, no special breeze. Just a spot of grass next to a wall.

As the day drags on, they seem to get more on edge. The tiger paces back and forth, making a rut in the grass. I frown, this is not normal behavior. I’ll have to get Fluttershy over tomorrow to have another look at him. If he’s just restless and feeling cooped up then there’s not much I can do. Until he’s healed, I can’t work toward releasing him back to the wild.

Again, I tell myself it’s nothing to worry over right now.

By the time the next morning rolls around, I’m certain of one thing. I got two hours of sleep, max. I spent most of the night worrying over those cats. Maybe I’m crazy and it’s finally catching up with me. But when I go out to the yard that morning and catch a glimpse of one of them swiping a piece of paper out of sight, I know something is wrong.

When I approach to check his bandages, he growls and doesn't let me come within a tail-length of him. This is a major backstep compared to how he treated me yesterday.

I send a letter to Fluttershy, asking her about the odd behavior and when the next day is that she can come back.

When the cats leave for lunch, I sneak over and find the paper partially buried.

My Celestia… I feel like some kind of weird detective. These are wild animals, this is probably just trash blown over the wall by the wind. I should probably just throw it away...

I pick up the paper and read it.

“Tonight. Here. Midnight.”

At the bottom is part of an inky paw print from no animal I’ve ever seen.

Ok… I now have reason to worry. What in the wide world of Equestria is going on with these cats?? Strange behavior? Notes?

I bury the note again.

Whatever it is, I’m going to find out. This is my facility and I won’t stand for shenanigans involving my animals. I am responsible for their care and wellbeing.

As I go throughout my daily chores around the building, I feel like eyes are on me every time I step outside. Tension in the air. I can’t ignore it.

It’s time for a stakeout.

Yup, I guess I’m adding detective to my list of jobs here now.

---

After the sun had long since set and the night was quiet, I performed my evening routine and went to bed for the night. Except I did not. Instead, I lay on the roof of the building, peaking over the edge into the yard. I can only just make out the outlines of the animals there in the soft moonlight. All asleep, save for the cats.

All is quiet, the only sound being the leaves on the trees blowing occasionally in the wind.

Crick

I hear it, sounds like somepony nudged an old wooden door that needed its hinges oiled. That is very out of place. I listen closely, but the sound does not repeat itself.

The wind blows and the leaves rustle.

Creak

There it is again! Almost unnoticeable under the sounds of the leaves, but I definitely heard it. What in the world could it be?

As the next rush of wind blows by, I see something along the top of the wall. Two shadowy poles or sticks. Like a giraffe is almost looking over the wall.

I don’t have any giraffes, and if I did they certainly wouldn’t be on the other side of the wall.

It’s a few minutes before the wind picks up again, and the sticks extend past the top of the wall, but higher. I think I see rungs attached between them.

Is is a ladder? Is there seriously somepony trying to climb over my wall with a ladder to get to these cats? I know nobles have done some really stupid things before, but this one might just take the cake.

I wait until the ladder is all the way over the wall and a figure is climbing over before I go down to confront them. I fly down my own ladder faster than I ever have. I’m nervous, excited. This is so new and strange and goodness I can feel my heart hammering away in my chest. After a few moments to catch my breath, I slip outside and stalk over to the wall. Powering my horn and casting light into the area, I jump out with a shout already loose from my lips.

“Stop!”

And then I freeze in my tracks. At the bottom of the ladder and trying to coax the tiger up it… is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s as big as a minotaur and looks like... Honestly a bunch of things. Head like a dog. Paws, Legs like an ape. And a long thin tail with… a haND ON THE END?

I’m crazy. I have to be. That Discord fellow must have bopped me on the head when I wasn’t looking and now I’m nuts. That’s the only explanation that would make sense. The other possibility is that I am literally staring into the eyes of some kind of chimera.

We both stare at each other for a few seconds, neither moving an inch.

I don’t think I’m imagining this. There is an honest to Celestia chimera standing in front of me.

I can't panic right now. I won't let myself.

Think think think.

A lesson from one of the books I used to read a lot to learn from comes flying into my mind. The wise words of Sir Whinny:

'When facing something new, something potentially dangerous, keep your head. When it comes to wild animals, odds are it's just as scared of you as you are of it. If you act calm, it will act calm. It's alright to take a moment and assess the situation. Think before you act. It's trying to live it's life same as you are. You both deserve to be treated with respect.'

Take a moment, I think to myself. Assess the situation.

I take a deep breath. Time seems to slow down, I take in every detail that I can of the image in front of me. There’s a chimera with a ladder, and then there’s the cats. The ladder is haphazardly made with some sticks tied together with a frayed rope. The tiger is still at the bottom of the ladder and... hiding his head behind the chimera? And the little white kitty is seated comfortably atop the chimera’s head.

New assessment. They all know each other... Somehow. If how they’re acting is any indication, they were waiting for this creature to appear. The tail-hand looks a lot like the print on the note.

If this is the case, then I know what I have to do.

Very deliberately, I sit down. I keep my posture straight, but not rigid. I am not aggressive. I am nothing to fear.

The chimera cocks his head at me, then surprisingly mirrors my actions and sits down. I think it’s a he, by the look of his jaw set and muscle build. His tail idly reaches up and gives the tiger a scritch under his chin.

Step one done, situation de-escalated. Step two, communication. It’s key.

“Hello.” I thank my lucky stars, my voice didn’t crack. “Can you understand me?”

He cautiously nods his head, regarding me as one would a puzzle. His shoulders are tense and the angle of his ears tell me he’s seconds from bolting. But I don’t think he will, not without his friends. Or are they his pets? I can’t be sure.

“Are you taking them? Are they yours?”

Another nod.

I really am crazy.

“Wait here, please.” Another nod in response. I slowly get up and walk back inside, returning a minute later with some papers held aloft in my magic and a pen in my mouth. He hasn’t moved, they float over and present themselves to him. I make sure there’s enough light that he can read them, assuming he can’t see in the dark. But judging by how easily he got in here, I’d hazard to guess he can. So I brightened the light for my own benefit, getting a better look at him as he reads through the documents.

He’s got tribal-like markings on his fur, whether they are intentional I can’t say. They look natural. He has a very big mouth with lots of teeth. The shiver that travels down my back is because of a sudden chill brought by wind, I’m sure of it.

When I look back to his eyes, eyes that seem to be entirely in the wrong place on his head, I find myself making contact with his own critical gaze. It doesn’t seem like he is sizing me up for dinner, but he’s not looking at me like one would a Canterlot model either.

He glances between me and the papers.

I nod, walking over to him and giving him the pen with my hoof. A bold act, coming daringly inside striking range. His tail-hand snakes up to grab it and he quickly fills out the documents, pausing only once at the section about payment. I shake my head.

It's on the house.

He almost smiles while he finishes and signs with a clumsy flourish. I take the papers and pen back, and step away.

Without a word, he helps the tiger up the ladder and then follows up. They take the ladder with them once over to the other side. I return to my office, filing the papers away and falling into bed and a dreamless sleep.

Two animals returned home. Not a bad day.

Author's Note:

Hey there, welcome to my new thing. It's an idea I've toyed with for a while and it feels so good to finally be getting it down on paper. I'd give you a cookie for reading through the while thing, but I don't have any.

Anywho, thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!

Remember, leave a comment and make an author's day!

P.S.
If you find the hidden crocodile hunter in this chapter, I'll give you a cookie
_{There is no guarantee a cookie will be granted, but I will still be proud of you anyway}

Comments

[Iron Comet]

I think I'm going to like this story.

[Cross Lament]

Well that was delightfully unexpected.