All of the animals seemed to decide that completely ignoring each was their best method forward. Fabio collected comfort from Daniella and nursed his wounded dignity. Vesta, trembling, walked around the room in a daze and went to collect a toy to destroy while Heather knelt to greet the cat.
Gwen was surprised, after the forward friendliness of the cat, that she only tolerated Heather’s attention, didn’t invite more. She accepted the head scratches coolly as her due, and then returned to Gwen’s lap, where she perched like a sphinx surveying her domain.
“I think you’ve been adopted,” Daniella observed. To Fabio, she added, “You’re not hurt, you big weenie. She didn’t even draw blood.”
“I don’t want a cat,” Gwen protested, but she caught herself stroking the cat, and she could feel a nascent purr against her legs. “This is adoghouse.”
“I think she’d disagree,” Heather said, rising to her feet again. “What are you going to name her?”
“I can’t name her,” Gwen groaned. “I have to put up posters for her!”
“Our vet is great,” Daniella said merrily. “She takes cats as well as dogs.”
“I don’t even know if Ansel will want another pet here,” Gwen pointed out. “Maybe he’s allergic to cats!”
“Ansel isn’t,” he volunteered himself, coming in from the front door laden with bags. The dogs, who had missed his entrance because they were too studiously ignoring the cat, made up for lost time by baying at him and coming to swarm at his feet. “Who’s our new guest?”
The cat had her ears pinned back in annoyance at the commotion and gave him a conversational yowl that made everyone laugh.
“Really, do you mind?” Gwen asked later, when she was alone with Ansel in the kitchen helping him put groceries away. “I mean, all of this has sort of just...dumped on you. You probably don’t need a bunch of pets underfoot, too…”
Demonstrating, the cat was twining around her feet and doing her elegant best to remind Gwen that all she’d had to eat was dog food.
Ansel gave her a warm, tolerant smile, which was basically Ansel in a nutshell. “I was an only child,” he said rather sheepishly. “I always wanted a house full of people, and instead, I had a giant, silent library. This...makes a nice change.” He crouched down and offered the cat—very clearly Gwen’s cat by now—his hand.
The unnamed cat considered it thoughtfully, then rubbed her face against his fingers and permitted him to stroke her.
“I guess we’ll have to name her,” Ansel said, as the cat put her front feet on his knee and expressed her poor opinion of his shirt.
“Bossy?” Gwen suggested.
“Sounds like a name for a cow,” Ansel chuckled, giving the cat a ruffle as he stood. “Gym Socks?”
“Gym Socks?” Gwen sputtered in outrage.
“Just skipping to the inevitable,” Ansel said with a shrug. “That’s how pet names always go. They start with something elegant, like Alexandria, but then you just call her Sweet Pea, and after a while, Sweetie, then someone calls her Sweaty, and the next thing you know, you have a cat named Gym Socks.”
“I like it,” Gwen said, scooping the cat up into her arms. For just a moment, the feline tolerated the embrace, then squirmed out of her arms to pull herself up onto Gwen’s shoulder.
“Gym Socks?” Ansel laughed, returning to putting groceries away.
“Alexandria,” Gwen chuckled. “I don’t think it will come toGym Socks.”
The Siamese purred and rubbed against Gwen’s temple.
And that is how Alexandria Gym Socks came to live with them in Ansel’s big house, and rule over all of the dogs.
SAFE
Socks crouched under the bed, eyes wide, every muscle ready to run, every hair on end, her tail lashing behind her.
The safe place wasn’t safe.
It had been so nice, for so long, to have a warm, protected place, with people who fed her, with soft dogs to boss around. There were sunny windowsills and plush couches to sharpen her claws on, and sometimes she even let people touch her belly. (But not often.)
The food was filling and the water was fresh, when she reminded them, and her stomach was never empty for long. She could hunt, but didn’t have to, which was a pleasant change from her younger, wilder, harder life. Even being dragged to the horrible place for the pinches and prods was a small price to pay for the comfort of a real home, with a real person of her own.
But that wonderful world was upended now, by the cold and the dark.
