Hey, I'm patching up a half-dead cat. Delilah here.

I'm in the infirmary with the kitty I found outside on the ground.

This cat's wound wasn't as bad as I thought, but it was still pretty ruthless. And it wasn't natural; a person gave this to her, not a stupid twig or something.

I dabbed a little alcohol on the poor girl's wound, killing any bacteria that were on there. She sighed, making me sense air coming from her gash. I put a healing-gel on the cat's wound, which should help it heal a little faster. I then wrapped her torso in bandages. She looked like a stray, but she didn't tell me her story, so I don't know.

I helped her get on her feet, and, wobbling a tad, she could walk much better. I finally earned enough trust for her to telepathically say something to me (it's how I talk to ALL the animals I meet).

She wouldn't say her name, and I respect that. She has an owner that abandoned her here, but was so angry with something the cat did or didn't do, she shot her and left. The cat didn't think she would come back, but now she has a strong feeling that her owner wants her again. The cat also said that her owner isn't far from here, and she can walk easily to the place. I insisted that she stayed a little so she could heal, but she refused. I then offered to fly her there, but she refused that, too. This is probably the nicest cat I've ever met, despite her condition.

I carried her outside and put her on the ground. "Can you walk in this snow?" I asked.

She nodded quickly and set off. She looked back at me and I smiled in thanks.

I smiled back in welcome. "You're free to stay anytime," I invited.

She blinked in gratitude. She finally set off in the snow with a well-taken care off wound and a strong heart.

But there was something about this cat that was suspicious, but I don't know everything, so I can't guess.

I slipped back into my dorm, back into bed, and easily fell asleep, knowing that I had helped a poor soul in need.

I woke up in a flash.

I glanced at my watch, wide awake: 7:46.

I don't know why I was so chipper this morning. I hate getting up before noon, I hate getting out of bed, and I went to sleep way too late.

I put on my winter casual clothes and headed over to the mess hall for early breakfast seating. I just felt like being outside today.

I saw Gir playing with the stuff in the kitchen. "Gir!" I called, "What the hell are you doing?"

"IMMA MAKIN' WAFFLES!" he cried randomly. A few minutes later the rest of the kids decided to come, Gir gave everyone his homemade waffles.

Everybody, even the counselors, loved them.

Zim sat next to me and Gaz sat on my other side. Dib was on the far end of me, next to Gaz. "Does Gir make waffles like this every day?" I asked Zim.

He paused through a bite of waffle, "Usually, with bacon and eggs on the side."

I took a bite of bacon and egg. They were just as delicious as the waffles. "Wow, and Gir made this, too?"

Zim nodded, mouth full of bacon.

Dib was eating slowest of the four of us. "So, how do I know that this food isn't poisoned? It was made by Zim's pet!"

Gaz smacked him upside the head. Our entire table laughed at him.

I paused after a snicker, "Hey, at least she didn't shove your head in the waffles."

"That's a good idea!" Gaz complimented. She was halfway to slamming Dib's head into his food, but I stopped her arm.

To tell you the truth, I liked this place! But I still wanna go home.