Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 124: The Ultimate Power Move

Master Crow’s internal radar was terrifyingly accurate; he had perched himself directly next to the highest-ranking official in the room.

Nancy realized then that the crow had smuggled the cockatiel into the car. On the drive back to the Townsville headquarters, she had heard a faint whimpering from the backseat. When she turned around and saw a tiny yellow head peeking out, she discovered that Master Crow had brought his little fan along for the ride.

She had wondered why he brought her, but the reason became clear very quickly.

Master Crow nudged the cockatiel with a wing-elbow. The cockatiel took the hint instantly. She craned her fluffy neck and shouted in a crisp, clear voice, "Bonus! Bonus!"

Master Crow looked at her with an expression of disappointment, physically turning her head with his wing toward Captain Simmons. "You fool! You went the wrong way! You should go for the boss! That one has the final say!"

The cockatiel adjusted her aim, using her sweetest, most adorable "customer service" voice to deliver a very blunt message. "Boss! Food! Hungry!"

She paused for a second, as if remembering a crucial detail, and added, "Catching bad guys! Hard work! Bonus!"

Pfft—!

The command center fell silent for a heartbeat before erupting into a deafening roar of laughter. Even the usually stern Captain Simmons found himself doubling over with mirth.

Only Jack stood there with a face like thunder, unable to muster even a fake smile. Amidst the joyous atmosphere, he looked painfully out of place.

Nancy felt her face flush a deep crimson. She wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Master Crow hadn't just brought a fan; he had brought a "press secretary."

While crows could mimic human speech, their voices were raspy and guttural. They were nothing compared to the cockatiel’s high-pitched, irresistibly cute "baby voice." He was using the little bird as his mouthpiece! He had accurately identified the ultimate boss in the room and launched a direct offensive for a pay raise.

Nancy lunged forward, frantically covering the cockatiel’s beak. "Stop! Not another word, sweetie!"

If she let this little loudspeaker keep going, the Captain would think she was the one behind the curtain, coaching the animals to demand cash.

"I am so sorry, Captain Simmons," she stammered, her skin crawling with embarrassment. "This bird has clearly been corrupted by a certain greedy crow..."

However, as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.

While Nancy was busy "muting" the parrot, the zipper on the cat carrier behind her slid open with a zip. The Tabby squeezed his head out, leaped with feline grace onto the large round conference table, and began to move.

Under the watchful eyes of every department head, he marched with an elegant stride directly toward Captain Simmons. He jumped onto the Captain’s shoulder and, without hesitation, opened his mouth.

He clamped his teeth onto the shiny, gold-braided epaulet on the Captain’s shoulder—the very symbol of his high rank and authority. He even gave it a little experimental gnaw. Then, with a natural flair, the cat’s long, fluffy tail gave a sharp flick, slapping Captain Simmons squarely across the face.

It was a literal, physical demonstration of "giving the boss a piece of his mind."

Nancy was paralyzed. Her cat had just performed a career-ending workplace assault on the top commander of the police force on his very first day at the office.

She let go of the cockatiel to grab the cat, but the now-free bird immediately flapped her wings and screamed, "Bonus! Bonus! Bonus!" like a relentless debt-collection machine.

Master Crow nodded in approval, looking like a proud mentor.

Nancy felt like she was juggling ten hot coals at once. "Captain Simmons, I am so incredibly sorry! These little terrors are used to being wild at the zoo; they have no respect for authority!"

She reached for the Tabby, but before she could touch him, the Captain—instead of being angry—carefully "unhooked" the cat from his shoulder and placed him gently on his lap. Then, he did something unthinkable.

He unpinned the gleaming merit medal from his chest and held it out to the Tabby.

"You can play with this," Simmons said with a straight face, though his tone was surprisingly indulgent. "But you can't take the epaulets. That’s a disciplinary violation."

The Tabby gave a cold, haughty "meow" and began batting at the medal with his paws, inspecting the human’s "tribute" with the air of a monarch.

What really shocked Nancy, however, was what was happening under the table. Captain Simmons’ hand was secretly—very slowly—scratching the soft fur behind the cat’s neck. When he realized she had noticed, the Captain let out a forced cough and pretended nothing was happening.

It wasn't that the Tabby was being naughty; he was being strategic. He had gone straight for the source and turned the commander-in-chief into his personal masseur.

"Sit down, don't just stand there," Simmons laughed, gesturing to the empty chair beside him.

Nancy sat down tentatively, feeling like a nervous quail under the gaze of so many high-ranking officials. Captain Simmons looked around at the officers still standing. "Well, don't just stand around. Everyone, take a seat!"

His gaze then landed on Simon, his admiration completely undisguised. He waved him over. "Simon, come. Sit over here with your sister."