Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 132: A Blow To Feline Pride

Nancy gave him a beaming smile. "Don't you worry, I’m a professional when it comes to therapy. I wouldn't dream of being careless. Besides, you don't even have to lift a finger for this tent—I’ll set it up myself!"

"You just sit back and inspect the results. I guarantee it’ll be cozy and warm!"

As she spoke, she patted the tent fabric, adding with a touch of pride, "I spent a fortune on this one. It’s oversized, incredibly spacious, and completely wind and waterproof!"

She bent down to begin assembling the frame, but Barry suddenly snatched the poles from her hand. His brow furrowed, though his voice carried a hint of helpless resignation. "Stay still."

"With your stamina, if you faint halfway through, I’m the one who has to perform emergency first aid."

He knelt down and began skillfully pitching the tent with practiced movements. Nancy was left standing to the side, acting as his assistant and handing him tools.

Just then, a sharp, restless roar echoed from deep within the zoo, shattering the silence of the night.

Barry’s movements stopped instantly. His sharp eyes cut toward the source of the sound. Star’s ears perked up immediately, and he let out a low whimper, shifting into a defensive stance.

"That was a tiger!"

Nancy felt the goosebumps rise on her skin. A tiger’s roar is perhaps the most terrifying and awe-inspiring sound in the animal kingdom, capable of traveling miles.

Her heart skipped a beat. Don't tell me something happened at the tiger enclosure again?

She stood up abruptly. "I have to go check."

Barry set down the tent poles and patted Star on the head. "Let’s go."

The two humans and the dog hurried toward the tiger exhibit. Before they even reached the cages, Nancy noticed a trail of intermittent blood droplets on the path, winding toward the fence on the eastern side.

Her chest tightened. No way... has there been another accident? They say tigers ward off evil, so why does trouble keep finding this place?

Nancy stepped across the grass, gripping her flashlight tightly. At night, fearing wind or rain, the tigers were usually kept in the indoor shelter; they were only released into the open-air enclosure during the day for "business hours."

Nancy followed the trail of blood all the way to the door of the indoor resting area. As she approached, she heard a suppressed, furious roar.

Fatty, the tiger who was currently little more than skin and bones, had his neck arched as he hissed. He bared his teeth, his eyes locked onto something in the corner of the room.

Nancy peered inside and froze.

The creature making the King of the Jungle act like he was facing a mortal enemy was actually a tiny, injured white weasel!

Its snow-white fur was stained with blood, and a small puddle sat by its side. Though its entire body was trembling, it stood its ground, staring down the massive beast.

Fatty lunged at the weasel again, but the little creature rolled nimbly to the side, dodging with ease. Because of his chronic malnutrition and physical weakness, Fatty overshot and slammed his head into the wall. He threw his head back in pain, roaring at the ceiling and baring his teeth in a fit of rage. "Stay still you coward! Once I get my paws on you, you'd be the first I eat!"

The startled weasel, despite the injury to its hind leg, didn't run far. It crouched just outside of striking distance, tilting its small head to look at the "big cat." It seemed genuinely shocked that the terrifying King of the Forest could be this pathetic.

Weasels were like perpetual motion machines, bursting with energy. Even though it was hurt, the little creature's arrogance was beginning to show. It poked out its tiny pink tongue in a clear act of provocation. "Come and get me, punk!"

Fatty refused to back down and launched another attack! But as he leaped toward the weasel, his body suddenly stiffened—he had pulled a muscle. He let out a sharp cry and recoiled, collapsing into a limp, pathetic heap on the floor. "Ah! My back… I think I sprained my back!"

Fatty began swiping at the ground with a massive paw, drool leaking from his mouth as he roared in frustration.

How embarrassing.

She pressed a hand to her forehead. "All that noise... he just couldn't catch his prey. It’s pure, impotent rage."

"He really gave me a fright!" She had honestly thought there was another casualty to deal with.

Behind her, Barry and Star peered over her shoulder, looking confused.

"What's the status?" Barry asked. "It sounded like he was tearing the building down."

Nancy was momentarily speechless. She couldn't exactly tell the truth—that Fatty was a try-hard who not only failed to catch a weasel but threw out his back in the process. She had to save the old tiger a bit of face.

She cleared her throat and gave a serious-sounding explanation. "It’s fine. Fatty was just... uh, playing with this little weasel. He got a bit too enthusiastic and tweaked his back. The roaring was just because of the pain."

Nancy stifled a laugh and called out, "Alright, Fatty, that's enough! This little weasel isn't a snack. It’s injured, and we need to treat it."

The moment Fatty saw Nancy, he crawled over and started rubbing against her, instantly turning into a giant, whining housecat. "It bullied me! It wouldn't let me eat! Boo-hoo, am I really that pathetic now? I can't believe I can't even catch an injured little prick…"

Nancy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She rubbed his massive head. "Don't worry. As long as you get plenty of sun, eat your meals, and keep up with your exercises, you’ll be back on your feet in no time."

Beside her, Barry heard the name "Fatty" and looked at the scrawny tiger. He couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. "You call him 'Fatty'? He looks more like a 'Slinky' to me."