glasses. “Water?” Dee asked. “Orange juice?”
“Water, thank you,” Helen said.
“Sit down,” Dee said. “Trish speaks highly of you.”
“I’ve heard good things about your cattery,” Helen said. “Congratulations on your Cat of the Year.”
“We’re small but choice. We have five cats: three breeding queens, one stud and a spay.” Dee gulped her water thirstily, and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Is the stud Midnight?” Helen said. “I saw him in the living room. He’s gorgeous.”
“He knows it,” Dee said. “None of the females are in season right now, so he has the run of the house.
“I’m campaigning two this year,” she said. “Are you interested in breeding cats?” Her green eyes narrowed and she studied Helen carefully.
She’s on the alert for something, Helen thought. All I can do is tell the truth and hope it’s what she wants to hear. “No,” she said. “I like cats. I have a rescue cat, Thumbs. He has six toes and he’s neutered.”
“Good,” Dee said, nodding approvingly. “Polydactyls should be altered. Their offspring have a higher incidence of birth defects.
“I’m glad you don’t want to be a breeder. I got burned once. Now I make my employees sign an agreement that they won’t breed or show cats for five years after they work here.”
“Fine with me,” Helen said.
“I’m not going to hire and train my competition. Breeding cats is a labor of love. I’m lucky if I break even. Persians require constant care.” Dee downed half her juice.
“Lots of brushing?” Helen asked.
“Combing. Daily,” Dee said. “Their fur mats easily. My cats must be bathed once a week, more if they’re going to be shown.”
“Do your cats like baths?” Helen said. Thumbs would claw off her arm if she tried to bathe him.
“Love them,” Dee said. “I start bathing them when they’re babies. They learn to enjoy them. The process takes hours, but the cats find the experience pleasant—and if they don’t, they’ll let you know.”
She swiped her red-tipped nails at Helen’s eyes, and Helen jumped back.
“Good,” Dee said. “You have quick reflexes. You’ll need them.
“We’re extra busy this week. I’m showing Red and Chessie at the regional Gold Cup show in Plantation on Saturday and Sunday, and my other girl up and quit. Walked out on me with no warning. Really, people have no work ethic. They’re bone lazy.”
Helen’s antenna went up. In her experience, employers who complained about lazy staff were cheap and demanding.
“What do you pay?” Helen asked.
“My wages are very generous,” Dee said. “Eight-oh-four an hour.” She said it with a flourish, as if she doled out bags of gold.
The cats aren’t the only queen around here, Helen thought.
“What are my duties?” she asked.
“You’ll change ten cat boxes daily—five in the cattery and five around the house. Gabby, the maid, will show you where the others are. You’ll have to wipe their eyes daily and keep their noses and bottoms clean. You’ll help with the grooming and bathing.
“During the shows, as well as the day before and after, you’ll be expected to work eight to ten hours.”
Helen knew the answer to her next question, but asked anyway. “Do we get overtime?”
“Of course not!” Dee sounded so shocked, Helen feared she’d lose her chance for the job. “I’m paying you eleven cents above Florida minimum wage. And don’t ask for sick leave. I don’t pay people to lie around in bed.”
“What about benefits?”
“You’ll get one major benefit,” Dee said, and smiled. “Aregular paycheck. Every Friday. You’d be surprised how few people appreciate that.”
Dee stood up. “Jan Kurtz, my head girl, is working in the cattery now. I’ll take you back.”
Finally, I get to meet Mort’s girlfriend, Helen thought. She’s why I’m cleaning ten cat boxes a day.
Dee padded down a back hall to a large, sunny room with pearly white walls.
“Water, thank you,” Helen said.
“Sit down,” Dee said. “Trish speaks highly of you.”
“I’ve heard good things about your cattery,” Helen said. “Congratulations on your Cat of the Year.”
“We’re small but choice. We have five cats: three breeding queens, one stud and a spay.” Dee gulped her water thirstily, and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Is the stud Midnight?” Helen said. “I saw him in the living room. He’s gorgeous.”
“He knows it,” Dee said. “None of the females are in season right now, so he has the run of the house.
“I’m campaigning two this year,” she said. “Are you interested in breeding cats?” Her green eyes narrowed and she studied Helen carefully.
She’s on the alert for something, Helen thought. All I can do is tell the truth and hope it’s what she wants to hear. “No,” she said. “I like cats. I have a rescue cat, Thumbs. He has six toes and he’s neutered.”
“Good,” Dee said, nodding approvingly. “Polydactyls should be altered. Their offspring have a higher incidence of birth defects.
“I’m glad you don’t want to be a breeder. I got burned once. Now I make my employees sign an agreement that they won’t breed or show cats for five years after they work here.”
“Fine with me,” Helen said.
“I’m not going to hire and train my competition. Breeding cats is a labor of love. I’m lucky if I break even. Persians require constant care.” Dee downed half her juice.
“Lots of brushing?” Helen asked.
“Combing. Daily,” Dee said. “Their fur mats easily. My cats must be bathed once a week, more if they’re going to be shown.”
“Do your cats like baths?” Helen said. Thumbs would claw off her arm if she tried to bathe him.
“Love them,” Dee said. “I start bathing them when they’re babies. They learn to enjoy them. The process takes hours, but the cats find the experience pleasant—and if they don’t, they’ll let you know.”
She swiped her red-tipped nails at Helen’s eyes, and Helen jumped back.
“Good,” Dee said. “You have quick reflexes. You’ll need them.
“We’re extra busy this week. I’m showing Red and Chessie at the regional Gold Cup show in Plantation on Saturday and Sunday, and my other girl up and quit. Walked out on me with no warning. Really, people have no work ethic. They’re bone lazy.”
Helen’s antenna went up. In her experience, employers who complained about lazy staff were cheap and demanding.
“What do you pay?” Helen asked.
“My wages are very generous,” Dee said. “Eight-oh-four an hour.” She said it with a flourish, as if she doled out bags of gold.
The cats aren’t the only queen around here, Helen thought.
“What are my duties?” she asked.
“You’ll change ten cat boxes daily—five in the cattery and five around the house. Gabby, the maid, will show you where the others are. You’ll have to wipe their eyes daily and keep their noses and bottoms clean. You’ll help with the grooming and bathing.
“During the shows, as well as the day before and after, you’ll be expected to work eight to ten hours.”
Helen knew the answer to her next question, but asked anyway. “Do we get overtime?”
“Of course not!” Dee sounded so shocked, Helen feared she’d lose her chance for the job. “I’m paying you eleven cents above Florida minimum wage. And don’t ask for sick leave. I don’t pay people to lie around in bed.”
“What about benefits?”
“You’ll get one major benefit,” Dee said, and smiled. “Aregular paycheck. Every Friday. You’d be surprised how few people appreciate that.”
Dee stood up. “Jan Kurtz, my head girl, is working in the cattery now. I’ll take you back.”
Finally, I get to meet Mort’s girlfriend, Helen thought. She’s why I’m cleaning ten cat boxes a day.
Dee padded down a back hall to a large, sunny room with pearly white walls.
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