The Hybrid Whisperer KTH+JJK

One

“Well that’s hardly my fault.” He sulked.

“Which means we’re stuck with each other.” She soldiered on. “Which means you have to pull your weight around here. Which means maintaining a clean room.”

“Ugh! Fine!” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“You’ll do it now.” She contradicted.

“Mama Kim!” He objected, somewhere between a shout, a whine and a groan.

“Now, Jeongguk.” She insisted.

His jaw clenched again as he reluctantly picked up yet another damp towel from the floor and threw it at the, logic-defyingly, empty laundry hamper. The action sent a puff of duck down dancing through the air and she ground her teeth. Her poor, innocent pillows. They were too young to meet such an untimely demise, barely three months old. She’d bought them just after Joon left to replace the ones he’d taken with him.

“And I’m cutting your nails.”

Jeongguk froze in the middle of bending to pick up (Was that another towel? How many did he have in here??) something from the floor to turn and glare at her. His ears folded back against his head and his eyes narrowed. “The hell you will.” He challenged.

“I won’t have you murdering another pillow!”

“Fuck your stupid pillows!” He shrieked.

And with that he turned his back on her; his tail raised defiantly beneath his baggy shirt and flicked his feet backward in irritation, one after the other, raising another storm of feathers; before he stomped out of the filthy room.

Mrs Kim’s fists clenched at her side and her jaw ground tight. That was it! She’d had enough!

Something had to be done.

---

“You’re a miracle worker!” His latest client, Lisa, exclaimed happily.

“Hardly.” He said dryly. “It was just some basic training.”

“But you are.” She insisted. “You turned my Fee-Fee into an absolute angel! Aren’t you mummy’s little angel? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”  She crooned down at the pug who was sat in a stroller that was worth more than he made in a month. The dog lolled it’s tongue out and snorted and gurgled what passed for panting behind it’s squashed snout.

Taehyung shook his head. He gave it two months before Lisa was calling again, baffled, because her angelic Fee-Fee had reverted back into a demon. This was, after all, the third time he’d been called in to deal with the same problem. You just couldn’t treat animals like people. It only confused them. And confused pets became monsters.

“Lisa.” He said in exasperation. “Firm hand, remember? Fee-Fee needs to know you’re the boss.”

“Oh, right. Silly me.” She giggled. “Mummy’s such a silly, isn’t she, sweetums?”

There really was no help for some people. Sighing, Tae reached down to give the poor pup one final, farewell pat. He had a little under an hour to get to class. “Good luck, girl. Remember, I can always come back if she gets too much.”

“Nonsense! We’ll be just fine. Won’t we, Fee-Fee-kins? Won’t we? Yes, we will. Yes!” She squeaked.

He’d been talking to the dog.

Taehyung sat through his lecture, listening intently, his hand busily scratching illegible notes into his book. People had always joked that with handwriting that bad he should have been studying to be a doctor, not a vet. But Taehyung’s passion lay with animals, not humans. Animals didn’t lie or break your heart. They didn’t disown you for things you couldn’t control. And they certainly didn’t abandon you when you needed them most. No, animals were loyal. You gave them the care they needed and in return they gave you their unconditional love. Seemed like a good deal to him.

Of course he didn’t have a pet of his own at the moment. His lousy, one room, apartment didn’t allow pets. So he’d decided to do the next best thing, become a pet whisperer. It killed two birds with one stone, really. He got to work with animals who needed help, putting his class theory into practice, and he managed to eke out enough money from it to live the sad, ramen-dieted, over-caffeinated, booze-fuelled life of a poverty stricken uni student. Win-win.

After class was finished he took a moment to check his work email. Lisa had been his last client and he was hoping something else would pop up. He only had enough left in his bank account for next month’s expenses, if he wasn’t too attached to the idea of eating.

Problem bunny? Interesting. He hadn’t worked with rabbits before, mostly dogs, a few cats and on one memorable occasion, a stimpson python. He opened the email and perused it quickly. Trashing it’s living space; destroying bedding; thumping; refusing to be groomed... Sounded like typical dominance behaviour to him. Or maybe it was lonely. Rabbits were social creatures. Either way, it didn’t sound like anything he couldn’t handle.

Humming tunelessly, he shot a quick reply back, suggesting they meet to discuss the matter in more detail and give him a chance to observe the behaviour first hand. He also reminded them of his consulting fee, which was payable to his PayPal account in advance. A man had to eat, after all.