Shit shovel officer and his cat [Comprehensive British and American]

The last time Sally curled up in Hannibal's arms like a ball of hair was three years ago.

While hunting, Hannibal picked up a dying cat, curled up to the size of Hannibal's palm, it seemed to be a baby, lying on the messy grass, breathing weakly, looking at him with half-closed eyes.

Those cat's eyes are exquisite and clear blue, full of water, very tender color.

At that time, Hannibal's body was splattered with blood. He cut open the prey's chest and took out the still beating heart. Subconsciously, Hannibal looked sideways at the little white cat on the hay.

In those purest eyes, Hannibal saw himself like a demon.

It gave a "meow" towards Hannibal, moved its dirty little paws slightly, and crawled weakly towards him.

It was asking Hannibal for help.

It is asking the hunter for help.

Hannibal stretched out his sticky scarlet hand, and gently placed it on the ground, waiting for it to crawl over.

It was very weak, and it wobbled and fell to the ground after almost two steps. It raised its eyes to look at Hannibal, then tried to get up and struggled to climb up towards Hannibal's palm.

The little hairball was very light, not even as heavy as the heart that Hannibal had just taken out.

In the palm of Hannibal's hand, the ups and downs of his small chest were almost negligible. His moist glazed blue eyes stared at the evil devil, and then let out a small and tender "meow".

And now.

"You're getting fat, Sally."

"Meow!!!!"

Sally howled fiercely, trying to scratch Hannibal, but when she touched the pads, she crawled back whimpering, lowered her head obediently, and stretched out her front paws.

The little white cat lay on Hannibal's lap, with its head buried in the cleft of the excrement officer's leg.

Hannibal held Sally's two pads and placed them gently on the ice pack.

The pink pads were swollen pink.

This was when he was hit by something when he was chased by Winston.

It was already [-]:[-] in the middle of the night, and all the lights in the apartment were turned off, leaving only a small lamp next to the sofa, glowing with warm light.

Hannibal no longer smelled of red wine, he took off his coat, wore a dark brown shirt with the cuffs rolled up, and quietly applied ice to Sally's flesh pad.

The iron-blonde hair was not as docile and meticulous as in the daytime, it was a bit homely, with lowered eyebrows and eyes, gently kneading Sally's small claws with the pulp of her fingers, occasionally hearing Sally's comfortable whirring.

At this moment, Hannibal is neither a doctor nor a scholar. He has only one identity: Shit Shovel Officer.

At twelve o'clock in the middle of the night, Hannibal put Sally back to its den, and went back to the bedroom to rest.

Sally endured the pain in the pads, and jumped out of the den to follow. Before Hannibal went to bed, she jumped onto the bed early and occupied the only pillow on the bed.

Hannibal: "...Sally."

Sally: Huh.

Hannibal stroked Sally's little head, with a half-smile: "Afraid of having nightmares? Indeed, Winston is a very tall dog."

Sally pushed Hannibal's hand away, rubbed her face with her paws, turned her back to Hannibal, and lay on the pillow, without any intention of giving up the pillow.

Sally is a willful and arrogant kitten.

The shit shoveler's stuff is mine, and my stuff is still mine.

I just think this pillow is so comfy!

It's not because I'm afraid of having nightmares!

But this is too unconvincing! !

Sally suddenly became angry with embarrassment.

"Meow!"

Hateful shit shovel officer! !you hate!I am leaving! !

Sally stepped on Hannibal's face with her paw, jumped off the bed, and ran back to her hut without looking back.

Sally's nest is very cozy, there is a wool felt doll, and blue blanket, the color is super cute.

Sally slipped in and soon fell asleep.

Turns out it doesn't need a shovel.

01:30am.

Sally wakes up from a nightmare in which Winston grabs it and eats it raw.

The fluffy little Sally has only bones left QAQ

"Meow woo woo woo..."

Sally jumped out of the nest like flying, ran to Hannibal's room, pushed open the unlocked door, jumped onto the bed two or three times, and stomped her paws everywhere.

Then stepped on Hannibal's face.

The shit shovel officer seems to be asleep.

But Hannibal slept on the pillow that Sally had been looking at earlier.

Where does it sleep?

Sally stomped on the bed again, and it tried to snuggle up on the quilt, but it was so cold that it wasn't comfortable at all.

Then Sally turned her eyes to the sleeping Hannibal... neck.

"Meow?"

Sally tentatively touched Hannibal's face with her paw.

no response.

well.

Sally turned around, then nestled directly on Hannibal's neck, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

Braised osso shank.

The ingredients are selected from 25-year-old healthy calf calves who are good at fitness.

Fry and roast until half-ripe, add garnish spirits, and drizzle with soup.

Take out and put in the oven.

Hannibal propped his hands on the kitchen counter, and after a long while, he cleaned up the residue and wiped off the excess water stains on the counter.

Finally, he washed his hands, and then touched his neck, feeling that Sally was still wrapped around it.

Hannibal spread his hands and plucked two white cat hairs from his neck.

Not unusual.

Hannibal put the fur with the rest of the fur he had collected, and he opened Sally's small refrigerator, thinking about its lunch, pumpkin puree with shrimp mince?

There are no appointments at the clinic today, and the FBI case has come to an end.

He has plenty of time for Sally.

But Sally doesn't think so, it likes to play alone.

Especially today, Hannibal's body was stained with a smell that Sally hated very much. He stood on the sofa with a sullen face, looking at the man who was busy in the kitchen with disgust.

But this time, Sally took great pride and ran away from home without turning her head.

Its fear of Winston had not dissipated.

Will...

Sally licked her paw, feeling sad.

Will, why did you have that vicious dog?

Isn't Sally Meow cute enough?

As long as you like me!I run away from home every day to accompany you!

"Sally, steamed pumpkin and shrimp for lunch."

"Meow~!"

Sally is very spiritual, and Hannibal can often find the meaning it wants to express from Sally's behavior and language.

Hannibal took out the shrimp and pumpkin and put them on the cooking table.

He was able to finish Sally's lunch before the Osso bonbon came out of the oven.

Hannibal's kitchen time is very compact and rich.

Sally lay sprawled on the couch, watching the shit shovel making lunch, and wondering whether Will liked herself or the dog.

When the aroma of shrimp and pumpkin wafts out.

Sally's attention was gradually attracted, she forgot Will and his dog in the corner, and looked at Hannibal eagerly.

Hannibal: Huh.

The author has something to say: Sally: I like Will Meow.

Hannibal: Steamed fish balls.

Sally: ...

Hannibal: tenderloin of veal.

Sally: ... woo

Hannibal: Shrimp squash.

Sally: I love shit shoveling.