I meowed.
4
GRIFFIN
Toby was breaking.
I could see it little by little, the way his attitude faded and he was replaced instead with a creature who knew to always sayyes. I should’ve been happy, and in some ways I was…
But it felt hollow.
I’d only wanted him to bend. I’d wanted him to come around, to accept this, but I hadn’t wanted to lose everything he was. A silent pet wasn’t what I’d planned on…
Because I’d wanted companionship.
I tried to be happy that he was coming around, that I’d have what I wanted, but this wasn’t what I’d wanted. Not really. And if it had been…
I didn’t want it anymore.
I didn’t, couldn’t, work. I sat at my desk for a long time as my smile faded and my satisfaction at his obedience dwindled until I was brooding. I needed to stop. I needed to man the fuck up.
I needed to figure out how to get a pet with personality.
I had to rebuild him now that I’d broken him.
The thought haunted me, because I had no idea how. I’d thought this would be… not easier, not really, but different somehow. It only got harder as I was faced with all the changes I’d brought about — the changes I’d wanted…!
Yet the smiles were forced.
I sighed and got up, finally abandoning all pretense of working, and returned to the bedroom. I was terrified of what I’d see, that he might have slipped deeper into what we’d both thought I wanted.
Instead, I was faced with a creature with determination burning brightly in his eyes as he… meowed.
I stared at him, mouth slightly open, as I tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. I’d left a broken thing behind, not this.
Not… a cat.
“No,” I said firmly after my shock wore off. “You’re a puppy. Puppies bark when they want something.”
He meowed again.
I ran my hand through my hair, wracking my brain to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now. I was flustered, and I hated that I was showing it. I tried to always be in control, confident, even though half the time it was an act.
Right now, I couldn’t even muster that.
“I said no,” I told him, but my voice was weak instead of stern. If he was going to act like any pet, did it matter if he was a cat or a dog?
Yes, because all of my plans and preparations had been predicated upon him being a puppy. I had no idea how to handle a cat. I’d never had one of the fiercely independent, stubborn things.
He was watching me, wariness reflected in his features despite the show of bravado. He never was very good atplaying pretend, but then, this was something else entirely, wasn’t it?
He meowed a third time, even going as far as to tentatively paw at the front of the kennel. His cheeks were burning, and an answering thrum of arousal ran through me at the sight of his humiliation and his… willing acquiescence. Wasn’t this what I’d wanted? Just in a different package?
I scrubbed at my face with my hands, trying to come to terms with what I was seeing — hearing, really, because he wasn’t doing a whole lot as he gauged my reaction. There wasn’t much of one, not really, not when I couldn’t decide what the hell was going on in my own head.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I hated that he was seeing me at such a loss. I prided myself on never being at uncertain in front of him, on knowing what to do at all times — or at least being able to pretend I did.
But he’d thrown me for a loop, and now here we were.
