It's been a long time, but the cats have found a reason to take time out of their busy nap schedules to demand that I translate another proper story about the true heroes of 'Forever Knight' - the pets. Vivian provided the grooming, bossy dictation and mind games. Sabu provided the manly cat example and lurked on the back of my chair, observing every typed word. Emily provided the word EMPHASIS, lap warming and toy expertise. This one is for Jules, Devo and Watson. Disclaimers: Blah, blah, blah...not in the mood. ***************************************************************** Sidney Lambert: Cold Nose, Warm Heart (1/6) Copyright 2001 By Vivian, Sabu and Emily Rutledge As Pantomimed to Bonnie Rutledge Natalie settled into one of the lounge chairs and swatted at a representative of the mosquitoes that had arrived to chew on the unwary as the July evening developed. Ankles momentarily rescued, she sent a concerned glance toward the Schankes' glass patio door and the forlorn face that gazed longingly back at her. "Maybe this was a bad idea," Natalie confessed, tilting her head up with a murmur for Nick's ears only. "Look at him! Sidney's miserable because he can't join us. I should have left him at the apartment." "He can handle it," Nick offered supportively. "You brought him here so he wouldn't have to be alone during the fireworks later. You're looking out for him." Natalie nodded half-heartedly, her chest twisting a little bit more as Sidney stretched out both his forepaws, plastering them against the glass, his posture defining unhappiness with this transparent barrier from the rest of the world. It was Canada Day. When Don and Myra had invited a group of people from the 27h precinct to celebrate with a cookout at their house, Natalie had decided this would make a perfect opportunity for Nick to 'play human' for the night. Canada Day also happened to be Sidney's least favorite day of the year, followed closely by New Year's. The crash and cacophony of the celebrations unerringly spooked him until he was literally hanging from the ceiling by his claws, or at the very least, from the closest drapes. When she left him alone, the cat's panic always manifested itself much worse, so Natalie had brought him along to the barbecue with the Schankes' encouragement. Risking another look at that gray and white furry face, Nat experienced second thoughts. "I think I'm going to go talk to him." Nick grinned, amused at the subject of her fretting. "To Sidney?" "Um-hmm." She noticed Nick's expression as she rose to stand next to him, and she scowled. "Quit laughing. I know he can't understand me, not really. Sid's not human; he's a cat. But no one, not even, say...an eight hundred year old man...is going to tell me he's not soothed by the sound of my voice!" Nick assumed a look of pure earnestness. "Oh, I believe you. Your voice is very soothing right now." He couldn't help himself and slipped into teasing mode. "Calming, just like a hockey game or a traffic jam." "Just for that, I expect you to eat an entire burger tonight." She eyed him expectantly, waiting for a protest. "Don't look at me." Nick spread his arms at his side as he took her place on the lounge chair, not letting an ounce of his strain from his recent no-blood diet shine through. "Your voice has soothed me out of all argument." He gave Nat a mischievous smile, with extra teeth. "Oh, please," Natalie scoffed then went inside to converse with her pet. ****************************************************************** It was all a terrible mistake. A miscarriage of justice, temporary insanity, or something much, much worse was to blame for bringing Sidney to this sad state of affairs. In fact, the more Sidney twitched his handsome white whiskers, the more he sniffed around the Barcalounger and inhaled the scent lingering about the slip-covered sofa, the more he was certain that he had unraveled the mystery. Something much, much worse WAS responsible for his entrapment in this foreign, improperly marked territory. It was a DOG. Sidney knew that such terrible creatures existed, though thankfully his close contact with those ANIMALS had been limited in his tender years to a few minor skirmishes at The Place You Get Shots. Sidney thought that DOGS were very funny looking, most of them brutish giants that were too stupid to communicate in proper, civilized cat tones. Rudeness personified, DOGS would push their big noses right on you, uncaring that such curiosity was only refined when the target was distracted or had given permission. Almost everything a DOG said came as a shouted command, not polite commentary. Everything was an emergency to a DOG. They bounced, they yelped, and they panted as though the world was coming to an end and the apocalypse was all a very good DOGGY idea. They made Sidney very tense. He'd even heard stories, purrs and peeps shared through the tight bars of the prison cells at The Place You Get Shots that there were even some DOGS that liked to EAT CATS!!! The ANIMALS!! Sidney stared mournfully through the Invisible Wall at his Mom. She was talking with her friend, the man who smelled like old leather that she called 'Nick.' The cat tilted his nose in the air. He'd never completely trusted that funny-scented Nick. It had to be his fault. Nick had to be a DOG-LIKER who'd led Mom astray. Yes, Mom had betrayed him tonight. She'd offered him those crunchy treat morsels he really liked, and the second his senses were distracted, she'd shoved him into a closed plastic box. Next thing Sidney knew, he was here, at this DOG HOUSE. The feline refused to believe that his Mom had really known what trouble she was getting her handsome kitty boy into. She looked his way with a concerned face, the kind Sidney associated with Hide and Seek. He would curl up under a bed and nap because he liked the dark, and Mom would come home from The Dead Place, wanting to admire his catly perfection and sing him songs about how wonderful he was. Sometimes, just to tease her, Sidney would linger under the bed, playing hard to get. If he played too long, however, Mom would get that concerned face. When he unearthed into the light, she would scoop him into her arms and give him what he wanted all along - extra treats and back rubs. Sidney encouraged the concerned face, propping his paws on the Invisible Wall, stretching his lean body to its full height as he meowed the urgent news: "Hey! There's a DOG in here!" Mom approached, and Sidney performed a prance of victory. Joy communicated, he looked up at her with a perplexed stare, curious as to how she was going to pass the Invisible Wall and rescue him. She reached out, grasping a black handle floating in space far above his head, and pulled. Magically, the Invisible Wall slid to one side, providing room for Mom to walk through and join him. Sidney had to admit he was impressed. This kind of knowledge was why he kept her around and let her think she was the boss cat. That, plus the supplies of treats and Q-tips she kept handy. Sidney did his dance of greeting, sashaying between her ankles as he interspersed his signs of welcome with a sternly worded lecture about the evils of Deceiving The Cat and Moving The Cat Without Permission. "How are you doing, Sid?" she purred as she bent down to his level and massaged between his ears. Head rubs were all fine and dandy when no crisis loomed, but now was not the time. he exclaimed in succinct cat vocabulary. Natalie tilted her head as Sidney meowed sharply and began to pace the floor. "What's that you say?" she asked as though he might suddenly erupt in English prose and give her a play by play. Sidney, disbelieving that she couldn't understand, repeated himself slowly, drawing out the sound. A small wave of guilt worked its way through Natalie at her pet's plaintive mewl. "Oh, I know, Sidney." She picked him up and hugged the cat to her chest. "You're unhappy. You're set in your ways, and you don't like the change, even if it's for your own good." Nat began to scratch under his chin, knowing that Sidney always enjoyed that attention. "But you don't need to be afraid. The Schankes are very glad you've come to visit. They're very nice, so let's relax and be friends, okay? Think of this as an adventure! Now where's Mr. Moo? You want to play with him, don't you?" She hunted around the Schankes' den for a moment, searching for the spot Sidney had knocked his favorite toy once he left his carrier. Natalie found her goal under an end table - a small stuffed longhorn she'd brought back for Sidney as a souvenir from a forensics conference in Texas. She called the toy Mr. Moo because it made that exact sound whenever she squeezed its middle or Sidney chomped down in a death bite as he wrestled with his plush foe. Setting the toy in front of the feline, Nat tightened her grip, demonstrating the noise. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Normally, the cat would immediately seize its toy and begin to gnaw on its horns. Tonight, he seemed bored, merely stretching out one paw to token smote the stuffed steer on its fuzzy forehead before he began to circle the floor. It never failed to amaze Sidney how someone clever enough to vanquish an Invisible Wall could fail to smell the peril right under her nose. This was the other reason Sidney kept Mom around - she wasn't capable of managing all on her own. He hung his head and his limbs limply, defeated at the communication breakdown. Natalie interpreted Sidney's change in posture as calm and patted his head with relief. "That's my jolly good fellow. Keep Mr. Moo out of trouble. If you're *really* good, I'll sneak you some chicken later." Sidney sniffed at her odorless promises. Later, he could very well be DOG FOOD. The only chicken of any interest was the bird he could smell. Better yet, he liked the bird in his mouth. Sidney whirled around suddenly, for while he'd been distracted by his self-righteous musings, Mom had pulled the Invisible Wall open again. A whisker too quick for him, she closed it before he could escape doom at her side. Feeling mighty sorry for himself, Sidney climbed atop the Barcalounger and began to compose a funeral dirge in his own honor. The sound of a door opening coupled with the jingling jangling of a light chain jolted Sidney into an alert pose. He dropped down into the seat of the chair, barely resting the tip of his nose on the arm as he watched and sniffed for additional clues about this arrival. A new voice appeared, female, but higher and louder in tone than Sidney's Mom. "I'm back! Dog's walked. He ate the neighbor's geraniums again!" Another voice came from a new direction, down the small hallway, this one male, but also yelling. Sidney suspected that this house was filled with barkers. "Did they see him?" "No!" "Then he didn't do it!" Though delivered in DOG tones, Sidney agreed with this wisdom. He had used the same argument many times with his Mom, but she always failed to comprehend the logic and fell into stern lectures instead of praising his feline intelligence. "Go on outside, Jen!" the male voice called. "The Stonetree kids are already here!" "Okay, Dad!" Sidney heard footsteps and paws move his way and bristled his fur. The DOG was coming closer, coming to get him. He could hear IT breathing a mile away. *pant* *Pant* *PANT* There it was in all its DOGGY disarray: tongue hanging out, a walk that was more toddled than sleek, wiry brown and white fur that hadn't seen a proper tongue-bath in hours, and claws that clicked-clicked rather than proceeded with shadow whispers. Compared to other such giants, this DOG was relatively short. From his vantage point on the Barcalounger, Sidney could pretend he was taller and therefore supreme. Sidney released a growl of authority. The DOG stepped forward, the twinkling excitement in its eyes agreeing that it was thinking exactly what Sidney had been afraid he was thinking. Sidney roared and spit indignantly, hunching his back in case the brute didn't get the message. The DOG barked repeatedly, mocking Sidney's opinion, declaring him a chewy, tasty morsel. The high female voice broke in, complaining, "Columbo...be nice to the kitty." Sidney's eyes widened as he got a good look at the body holding the DOG'S leash, restraining it from swallowing him whole. She was smaller than he expected, too, and the sight filled Sidney with dread. His Mom had invited this sort to his territory before, one creature named Amy, the other called Cynthia. They held cats tightly, squeezing them to their chests so that a feline couldn't breathe. They were SIDNEY STRANGLERS! One horrible creature, Sidney could manage. Two was too much. Not only had Mom brought him to a DOG HOUSE, it also contained a LITTLE GIRL!!!!! Sidney leapt off the chair in a single bound and flashed down the hallway he'd heard sounds coming from earlier. He was running for his life, in search of higher ground, and once he found it he wasn't coming down, not for all the chicken in Canada. ******************************************************************** The man in a dress shook his fist at Sidney and barked, "Hey! Offa there!" Sidney responded in reasonable cat tones. He'd jumped his way to the top of the refrigerator, out of the reach of clutching hands, and he wasn't descending until the DOG and the LITTLE GIRL were GONE. The man in the dress turned his attention away from his cat harassment and turned to frown at a huge platter of raw meat on top of the stove that had come to the attention of Sidney's nose most intriguingly. "Man, oh, man! Did cat hair get on the burgers? Your Mom'll never lemme hear the end of it if something furry winds up on the Captain's plate, kiddo." The DOG had broken away from its LITTLE GIRL and chased Sidney into the kitchen, inspiring the leap of faith to his current position. She'd followed leisurely, despite the exclamations of the man in a dress. This casualness confirmed Sidney's opinion that LITTLE GIRLS were NOT TO BE TRUSTED. "Nope. Food's clean, Dad," the LITTLE GIRL answered once she'd arrived and taken time for a complete evaluation. "You got secret sauce on your new apron, though." She gave him a small, disappointed frown. The man glanced down at his dress and exclaimed without thinking, "Damn!" Then the man thought a little. Sidney could always tell when Mom's friends were thinking - their eyes stopped LOOKING and began move like marbles, sometimes flicking as though they shook in a bag, sometimes focused keenly ahead as though they were aiming at a target. Thought approved for construction, the man in a dress gave the LITTLE GIRL an abashed look. "Arn!" he declared in the next beat. "Damn-arn! Darn! That's what I said - Darn! I stained the apron my daughter made me - Darn, I say!" Sidney found the man in a dress exceedingly emphatic. The LITTLE GIRL giggled. "Dad, you're so weird." Face sobering, she added, "Be normal in front of my friends, okay?" The man in a dress picked up the platter of meat and a few utensils and began to walk out of the kitchen. The LITTLE GIRL unfastened the DOG'S leash then appeared ready to leave as well. Sidney twitched in alarm. The LITTLE GIRL seemed intelligent enough to receive the cat's telepathy and paused in the doorway. "Hey, Dad! Should we bring Columbo outside?" "Nah. He'll nose around the food. Leave him. He and Nat's cat can become buds." Sidney howled in protest, but they were already gone. Sidney inched forward along the cool surface of the appliance, sneaking a glance over the edge to the linoleum. The DOG was still glaringly present. It stared up at him, alert to his every movement. Sidney detected a hint of drool lining the beast's chops, the perfect glaze to the sentiment reflected in the DOG'S large, expressive eyes. Sidney issued a proclamation comprised of outraged yowls and snippy chirps. The DOG barked. Sidney lifted a hind leg and began to style his bloomers nonchalantly. It barked again. The DOG rose clumsily on its hind legs, clattering at the front of the fridge with its paws amid a torrent of bow-wows. Sidney flipped to his tiptoes as the appliance began to wobble slightly from the DOG'S determined agitation. He wasn't sure just how much of this short creature's threats was bravado, and how much was fact. He frowned at his bushy-bodied opposition, evaluating its potential bouncing skills. The DOG settled back on its haunches, then wobbled in a circle before sitting again in the identical position. It gave a DOGGY yawn. Sidney began to casually groom one paw as he delivered his punchline of catly logic. Columbo barked, made a snorting sound, then barked again. Rather than diminish the DOG'S excitement, this information made him wiggle enthusiastically in place. Sidney drew himself into his most regal posture. Columbo quirked his head upward, the cat's declaration freezing the bobbing of his tail. Sidney's meows were derisive. Columbo lay down on his stomach, the cool linoleum tingling his belly. He flattened his head on his paws as he mused over the cat's words. Slowly, he peered upward soulfully. Sidney snarled. Columbo rolled onto his back, demonstrating, in his opinion, an excellent spread of snowy belly fur. The canine stared at the unapologetic feline a while longer, then rolled to his paws, ready for action. With that promise, Columbo click-clacked his way out of the kitchen. Sidney settled back to grooming his paw amidst peace and quiet. There was no way that a DOG could find any activity that would be worth his interest. ******************************************************************** End of Part One Natalie set aside her drink, swatted at a few dozen more mosquitoes, and asked, "Schank? Did you see Sidney while you were inside? How's he doing?" "He's fine. Like a rock, there's no budging him." Schanke said with a breezy wave of his barbecue fork. "Now me, I almost had a heart attack when your cat sprang out of nowhere and leapt on top of the Frigidaire." "Sid jumped onto the refrigerator?" Natalie immediately tensed. "What happened? He only does that when he's stressed." Her voice rose in intensity. "Why was he stressed?" Schanke was back to casually waving his utensils. "No problemo, Nat. He just had a..." Now Schanke had an overlarge pair of tongs in his hand, and he waved them in a circle by his right temple. "...psychological problem meeting Columbo. Normal cat/dog, love/hate chemistry stuff." Natalie was out of her chair in a blink. "Maybe I should go check on him." Schanke corralled her with a protest. "No, no! The food's ready! Check after dinner!" He turned his calls to the other guests. "Get your fresh, hot burgers here! Chicken, Chicken! We've got chicken!" Natalie drifted back into her chair a minute later, a plate filled with a hamburger and a side of potato salad perched on her lap. She gazed in annoyance at her food, as though she didn't want it to be there. Nick sat down soon after, the rarest burger Schanke could manage on coals ensconced within a bun on his plate, drowning in ketchup. A token pile of chips waited alongside. Nick had a beer in his other hand. He took a focused swig, turned his grimace into a smile, and turned to Natalie with a hopeful expression. "How's the food?" Nat looked blankly at her untouched plate, shaken from a private mental image of her cat hanging from the Schankes' drapes with no one to stop him. "Huh?" Remembering that she was supposed to set a good, mortal example, she picked up her bun with extra enthusiasm. "Just great! Dig in!" Meanwhile, Stonetree was reading Schanke's apron as he was served at the grill. "'Doing the Barbecue Polka.' That's cute. Did your kid make it?" he jibed. "Yeah, she did," Schanke said arrogantly as he slipped the Captain one puny, overly scorched burger on a squished roll. Schanke thought as he brushed the front of his apron proudly. "She made it all by herself." ****************************************************************** Sidney curled his head onto his paws after his tongue bath, deciding that a nap would be the best way to pass his time atop the refrigerator while he was ignoring the DOG. Columbo had other intentions. Sidney hardly had the opportunity to start dozing when his nemesis returned to the kitchen, heralded by a clicking of claws combined with a faint rustle. The cat's eyes cracked open at the first hint of sound. He couldn't see anything lying flat as he was, but Sidney had an imagination. The DOG had rolled something into the room. Perfectly ignorable. Sidney's eyes drifted shut again, and he went back to nurturing his favorite dream. His vision involved a sunny field of grass, Mom's wool coat lying on one slope for him to snuggle upon when he tired of chewing greenery and chasing butterflies. After his nap, Sidney imagined he would wake to find a saucer filled with all the strawberry yogurt a cat could lick up, but the dream treat wouldn't upset his stomach. Each item was a fantasy - after all, Sidney lived in an apartment. Sunbeams and grass made for scarce treasures, and Mom had him on a strict diet - only CRUNCHY FOOD BEAST that Mom brought home in shiny bags ever touched his tummy. The only yogurt, the only wool coat naps that he sampled he had to sneak, and when Mom caught him, he earned a swift, disapproving lecture. He knew she meant well, at least she said she did, and he felt true affection for her, though sometimes her actions mystified all cat definition. Like that soaking in water business - Mom would fill up an enormous bowl of hot water in the room where she kept the Q-tips hidden, then she would strip off her fur and sit in it! On purpose! A real cat would never do that. Sidney supposed that was the trouble - Mom could sometimes understand cats well, but she wasn't really a cat, only honorary, so sometimes her opinion of what was best didn't match his own. Sometimes she had really bad ideas - like this visit to the DOG HOUSE. Columbo continued to make the rolling noise, the sound slightly more interesting now because of its duration. Sidney's whiskers twitched, and he ordered his eyelids to remained closed. Sidney held out for another minute, but a thought crystallized in his head that caused his eyes to snap open. He relaxed faintly as he questioned that alarming thought. Succumbing to the intrigue, Sidney surreptitiously stretched out his forearms toward the edge of the refrigerator. Digging in his claws, he pulled his body along the surface while he kept his face languidly aimed at the ceiling. It was all an act. When he'd pulled as close to the edge as his paws would take him, Sidney stretched out his neck and casually pivoted one furry cheek toward the floor for a peek. The DOG was playing with a blue ball. Sidney knew he should turn over and carry on with his nap. He'd solved the mystery, so he should be satisfied and sleepy. On the contrary, he simply couldn't look away. The DOG'S spectacle of activity had hypnotized him, and his eyes flicked as they followed Columbo's path. Columbo was walking around the kitchen. More than that, he waddled, his legs and rear weaving an abbreviated swing as he traveled. He was intent. He was focused. He had his head tucked low, but his neck stretched out so that only the tip of his nose touched the blue ball. He kept in constant contact with the toy, rolling it along the linoleum in an attempt to perfect the art of perpetual motion. Sidney shook his head. The DOG had woven so many circles while he watched that Sidney had begun to feel dizzy. Columbo reminded him of one of those creatures he had seen on television - a trained seal - only the DOG had been tilted forward ninety degrees. He was funny to watch for a while, but now Sidney began to question. When Sidney played with things that moved, one of Mom's test tube racks for example, the purpose of the exercise wasn't in the PUSHING, but in the WATCHING. Yes, it was delightful to prod, poke, and nudge the rack of test tubes until they teetered precariously on the ledge of the kitchen counter, but a cat found REAL FUN by observing the rack hurtle to the floor, by identifying what happened upon impact. See, sometimes things broke, sometimes they fluttered like leaves to the tiles below, and sometimes they bounced. It was mystical. It was magical. It was scientific. Play was all a great experiment. The DOG had stalled in the 'setting up your equipment' phase. He obviously needed the help of cat wisdom so that the learning could begin. Sidney announced. Columbo's voice was muffled and distracted as he tried to converse without interrupting his rolling procedure. Sidney arched his kitty brows. Columbo straightened, then made an emergency inspection of his tail. From the cat's tone, he'd expected to find that it had fallen off or caught on fire while he wasn't looking. False alarm - Columbo thought his tail appeared perfectly nubby and chipper. Suddenly, Columbo realized that the cat had distracted him and ruined his rolling rhythm. His blue ball sat still and unmoving on the kitchen floor. Columbo yipped in annoyance. Sidney moved to sit in a regal position. Columbo barked. He peered speculatively up at the length of the cat's voluminous fur. Sidney sniffed. The cat squeezed his eyes shut, experiencing a brief, horrible flashback. He'd been shaved once in his life - he'd woken up after THE OPERATION to find important things sore and bald. The cat suppressed a shiver and said, Columbo cocked his head to the side and wiggled his ears contemplatively. Sidney began to pace his disturbance atop the refrigerator. he spat. Sidney froze and released a chain of mournful meows. Columbo didn't mind being accused of doggy ways. After all, he was a dog. he barked, mimicking his Dad, Another thought struck the dog, and he propped his forepaws indignantly against the fridge and gave it a good mopping of claws. Sidney explained slowly, as though he was talking to a tiny kitten. Columbo didn't understand the cat's logic. Sidney shuffled forward, folding his paws over the ledge of the refrigerator in a facsimile of the wisest sphinx. Columbo frowned, suspecting a trick question, but incapable of seeing the tricky answer. Sidney rolled his eyes. Sidney conveniently brushed aside the fact that he HAD been impressed as he watched the DOG, choosing to meow instead, Sidney leapt to his paws and gave a few practice swipes with his claws. Columbo sighed. He began to roll the ball once more, only more quickly. Sidney shouted, appalled at the DOG'S technique. Sidney demonstrated for Columbo with a swift pantomime. All of the cat's talk of bombs, injured snouts and limb-losing had Columbo's stomach flipping nervously. Sidney danced a catly pirouette before settling luxuriously on one side to groom a paw. He stretched out one paw imperiously. Columbo tried, mainly to get the cat to stop complaining. He tried to jab and weave, but he wasn't a spring puppy anymore. He couldn't quite manage to pounce like a cat, and he'd never been one for swift jabs with his paws as much as deadly snapping with his teeth. His aggravation with the game mounting, Columbo became sorely tempted to seize the blue ball between his jaws and chew it into oblivion, but he could already foresee the cat shrieking that he wasn't allowed to eat the bomb as he spouted more imagery featuring carnage. His growing impatience generated feistiness in the canine that he usually reserved for games of 'pull the rope.' Columbo uttered a rascally bark, managed a halfway aerobatic sproing, landed within stretching distance of the blue-rubber-ball-cum-deadly-explosive, and smacked it wholeheartedly with a furry fist. Panting with satisfaction, Columbo watched as it zipped across the floor, away from him with lightning speed. The blue ball rolled unhindered over the linoleum, directly into the crack between the refrigerator and the stove. Columbo looked up at the cat in horror. Sidney pranced in victory, as though he'd done all the actual work. Sidney sat, instructing good-naturedly, Columbo blinked, licked his chops contemplatively, then blinked again. Sidney propped his whiskered cheek casually against one plush, grey arm. Columbo, miffed at the cat's lack of distress, sniffed intently at the alley between the appliances that his favorite toy had vanished into and said nothing. He scratched one paw as far as he could within the darkness, retrieving only a broken sliver of dried pasta from his family's dinner the night before. He glanced up and found that the cat had audaciously turned onto his other side and had resumed his napping. Columbo released an outraged growl. the cat said sleepily. Columbo felt his rage boil as he observed the cat yawn and settle into a satisfied snooze. He mused for a moment on the idea of other toys, but none of his own quite whet his dog whistle. Columbo's ears twitched and his nose flexed as he unearthed a mischievous plan. he promised ominously as he left kitchen. Sidney responded with a carefree snore. ***************************************************************** Sidney didn't notice when the DOG returned to the kitchen. He was too busy sleeping, fantasizing about his grassy field and strawberry yogurt. It took a sound to twist his dream into a nightmare, to snap him out of his slumber in the vain hope that the terrible image was only an illusion. The sound came again, making Sidney leap to his paws in dismay. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Sidney hooked his paws over the ledge of the fridge and searched the floor below. He closed his eyes in denial then looked again. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." The DOG had taken Mr. Moo hostage - SIDNEY'S MR. MOO!!! Columbo had the stuffed steer clamped between his ferocious DOGGY jaws, making SIDNEY'S toy groan in agony. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Sidney meowed hotly. Columbo merely shook the toy within his jaws with a death snap, then stared up at Sidney as the plush steer dangled from his mouth. His brown eyes glowed with happiness, as if to say, It struck Sidney speechless. Columbo paraded in a circle about the kitchen, Mr. Moo displayed proudly between his teeth. Then, looking suspiciously purposeful, he marched out of the room again. Sidney didn't know what to think. Was the DOG following his command, putting Mr. Moo back where he had found him? Several authoritative barks sounded from the den, soon followed by the sliding sound that Sidney now associated with the Invisible Wall. The cat picked out the sound of the man in a dress talking and the DOG making conversational noises. The Invisible Wall made its sliding sound again, then silence loomed. Sidney couldn't stand it. He had to see what had become of Mr. Moo. He slinked off of the refrigerator to the edge of the stove, then bounced to the floor. Moving at a sleek jog, Sidney ran into the den, keeping an eye out for the stray remains of a stuffed steer, ripped to shreds by a barbaric DOG. He found nothing. Tiptoeing up to the Invisible Wall, Sidney peered outside. He had a rear view of the DOG, could see him greeting people, making his rounds as though he was Mr. Popularity. At first, there was no sign of Sidney's Mom or Mr. Moo. She returned to her chair just as the DOG departed. Sidney couldn't decide which part bothered him more: that Mom feasted on chicken while he SUFFERED indoors, or that he'd finally discovered what Columbo was doing to Mr. Moo. The DOG was haphazardly rolling the stuffed steer away as though it was round and made of rubber. Mom, meanwhile, was too busy talking with her friend Nick and stockpiling chicken. She hadn't even noticed! Sidney scratched against the Invisible Wall with rising panic, ignoring any resemblance between his behavior and the DOG'S earlier pawing at the face of the refrigerator. Columbo was rolling Mr. Moo, and he was getting away! Sidney wailed. Sidney thought the situation couldn't get any worse, but he swiftly discovered that he was wrong. The DOG paused at a grassy, isolated corner of the yard, then pointedly looked over his shoulder, straight at Sidney. That's when Sidney realized that the DOG had truly DIRE DOGGY PLANS in store for Mr. Moo. The cat raced around the den, unable to bear the strain of sitting still. He didn't want to watch, but, drawing alongside the Invisible Wall again, curiosity compelled him to watch the horrific scene unfold. Columbo dug in the yard, working steadily, sinking one sturdy paw into the ground after another. Once he'd burrowed a healthy dent into the surface, the DOG turned businesslike attention back to the waiting toy and picked the stuffed steer up in his jaws. Leaning over the hole, Columbo opened his mouth. Not pausing to watch how the steer plopped and tumbled to a standstill within the makeshift pit, the DOG proceeded to dig the dirt he'd disturbed back into place without further ado. Sidney crossed his eyes and tried to not faint from the shock. Columbo had BURIED Mr. Moo!!!!!!! **************************************************************** End of Part Two Schanke recognized the familiar bark, set down his beer, and approached the patio door. "You're ready to join the party, huh, boy?" He spared a glance at the wife. Myra scanned their guests, noting that most had either finished eating, or they were working on seconds. Deeming it a dog-safe environment, she sent her husband a nod. Approval granted, Schanke opened the door, and Columbo marched outside. Schanke noticed that the dog had dropped something out of his mouth and crouched down for a better look as he rubbed the terrier's head. "What's this, BoBo? Did Nat's cat lend you one of his toys? Are you sharing?" Schanke interpreted Columbo's happy pant as a 'yes.' He scratched his dog's rump for a moment, then patted him on his way as he slid the patio door closed again. "Good boy! Now go say 'hello' to Dad's friends!" Columbo barked in agreement and proceeded to tumble the stuffed steer along the ground through the legs of the guests. **************************************************************** Nick was less than content with the version of steer camped out on his cardboard plate. He nudged at the remains of his hamburger with a reluctant finger, his distaste marking his features. He'd managed to down three bites so far under Nat's watchful eye, but his stomach and taste buds rebelled against any further efforts. Natalie had stepped away for a few moments to sample some of Schanke's grilled chicken. Nick knew that she'd expect to see some progress on his plate by the time she came back, but he could list a thousand things he'd rather do, starting with laundering Schank's socks and ending with juggling the Tiki torches blindfolded. He sat back in his chair, resolving that he wouldn't take another bite, even if it disappointed Natalie. He'd tried, hadn't he? He'd chewed and swallowed a *third* of his burger! Two potato chips! Half a beer! It amounted to more mortal food than he'd ever downed in one vampire sitting. Wasn't that a victory? What did Natalie want from him? his conscience reminded him. Nick twisted his mouth, willing the hamburger to spontaneously vanish into thin air. His second best wish came true - the Schankes' dog dropped by for a visit. Nick had always been a dog person. If he had to choose among animal companions - though he hadn't had one for a long time - canines would come first. He'd learned the hard way how difficult it was for a vampire to have a pet, but he couldn't deny the easy affection he felt for dogs. It was their sense of unconditional acceptance that he craved, and the harsh pain of losing an animal friend that prevented him from ever traveling down that road again. Visiting with his partner's dog, however, was an acceptable luxury. Nick brightened as he looked down at Columbo's hopeful face. The Jack Russell tilted his nose upward, sniffed with interest at Nick's plate, before he ducked his head to nudge at Nick's leg as a form of polite question. Nick broke into an unabashed grin. "You've come to rescue me, eh, Columbo? You like hamburger?" The vampire tousled the dog's ears. "Even the bun?" Columbo snapped his teeth in enthusiastic anticipation and broke into a panting grin. Nick ripped the remains of his burger into pieces and fed them to the dog one bite at a time, keeping a lookout for Natalie's return in between treats. When his hamburger was a memory, Nick parsed his gaze between the meager remains of his mortal meal and the dog's still-joyous and covetous expression. "Do you like potato chips?" Columbo wiggled in place. "Okay, then..." Nick said, trusting the canine's word. When his plate was empty, Nick held his arms out at his sides. "All gone." The vampire leaned over and scratched between the dog's ears again. "Thanks for your help," Nick said solemnly. Less solemnly, Columbo tilted his chin up and began to lick Nick's hand. The vampire chuckled as he petted the dog encouragingly. Columbo interpreted this as an open invitation, propped his front paws up on Nick's knee, and immediately attempted some face-licking. "Okay, okay! I get it! You liked the food! Down, boy! Easy on the nose!" Columbo sat back on his haunches, still grinning with a happy dog face. Out of the corner of his vamp vision, Nick noticed Nat returning from the grill. "Sorry, Columbo," Nick told the dog conspiratorially, "but I need you to make tracks. If Nat gets a whiff of your beef breath, she'll immediately figure out what we did." Columbo made a soft bark of seeming agreement, tucked his head closely to the ground, and began to move slowly toward the trellised back fence. Nick assumed an innocent smile of welcome as Natalie began to settle in her chair anew, deliberately taking a brave swallow from his half-empty beer. "How's the chicken?" he asked conversationally. "Fabulous! I'm afraid I took too much," Natalie said ruefully. "I did promise Sidney a nibble if he behaved, though." She appeared thoughtful as she mulled over ideas of how to palm off portions of her overfilled plate. "I don't suppose you'd try..." Natalie was struck speechless as she finally noticed the status of Nick's plate. "Nick!" she exclaimed. "Yes, Nat?" he said hesitantly. Nick thought she sounded pleased, but he couldn't be 100% certain. "You cleaned your plate! That's wonderful! I never expected you to manage it all!" She sent him an exuberant grin, clearly bemused by his accomplishment. Nick, on the other hand, was feeling increasingly deceptive. "You didn't expect me to eat everything?" "Of course not! Just a few bites would make progress!" Natalie assured him breezily. "But you ate the *whole* thing! Even the chips! Nick!" she exclaimed again, squeezing his arm. "You really are trying!" "Uhm...yeah, Nat...about that..." Nick's gaze slipped guiltily in the direction of Columbo's retreating form. Hearing his confessional tone, Natalie's eyes followed his lead. "Nick!" Her delivery of his name had transformed into something very accusatory. "You didn't! Tell me you didn't sneak your food to the dog!" "I *did* try, Nat. I ate all that I could. You said you didn't expect me to finish it all," he reminded her. "I also didn't expect you to *deceive* me about it!" Natalie countered, her voice almost a hiss. "And to use *the dog*! Nick, how could you!? And Columbo...did it even occur to you that so much meat might be bad for his diet?" Nick gave a perplexed frown in the terrier's direction. "But dogs are carnivores...You were going to give Sidney chicken..." "That's not the point!" Natalie's feelings were hurt, and it was making her irrational. "The point is, you can't treat other creatures like that, you can't treat people like that, not if you want to become mort-" Natalie caught herself before she said 'mortal,' and lowered her voice to a furious whisper. "Not if you want to change." Nick glanced away from her hard stare. "I'm sorry, Nat. I only meant to..." His eyes were aimed in the direction of the patio door, and an unexpected sight rendered him momentarily speechless. "Nat?" "What?" she snapped mutinously. "Look at Sidney. I think he's having a fit." "What?!" Natalie's gaze traveled after his again. What she witnessed caused her to gasp. "Oh my god!" From their vantage spot on the patio, it looked, for all intents and purposes, as though Sidney was *flinging* himself at the handle of the sliding glass door, like he expected to push it open through sheer brute cat force. "He'll hurt himself!" Natalie cried as she rushed to soothe her cat. Nick followed, concerned for the welfare of both Natalie and her pet. As soon as Natalie slid the door ajar, crooning, "It's okay, Sid," the cat literally climbed up her, meowing non-stop. "Ow!" Natalie exclaimed, a little less indulgent. Sidney had used his claws as he scaled her legs and torso to plop into an indignant fuzzy pile atop her right shoulder, leaving little rips in her clothes and flesh as souvenirs of his visit. "Ow!" she repeated again, Sidney was still digging his claws into her shoulder as he hung on, screeching a string of feline curses, and growling at something lurking behind Natalie's back. "Sid, stop that! Ow!" "Let me take him," Nick offered gallantly and proceeded to pry the cat's claws out of his owner's flesh. Once he realized his hind legs were dangling in midair, Sidney began to squirm like a greased piglet. His howls of outrage intensified as he twisted around within Nick's grip. The vampire didn't hold on as firmly as he could have, or should have, worried that he might inadvertently injure the cat with his superior strength. Once Sidney had turned fully to face his captor, baring fanged teeth and a hissing glare, Nick had second thoughts. That's when the fur really hit the fan. ********************************************************************* Freed from imprisonment by the Invisible Wall, Sidney raised the alarm. Mom continued to repeat the syllable, "Ow!" Sidney wailed encouragingly. But suddenly, an invisible force pulled him away from his perch where he could shout into his Mom's ear. Sidney squirmed and struggled. He had to break free, he had to escape the clutches of this monster and rescue Mr. Moo from the EVIL PLAN of the DOG! Sidney yelled as he twisted and turned. Suddenly, his captor wasn't invisible. Suddenly he could see exactly what kind of misbegotten creature had the poor sense to hold him prisoner. It was Nick. Sidney hissed accusingly. "Calm down, Sidney," Nick said. "We're friends, right?" "Hmph," Sidney replied as he got a good whiff of the stench coming off of his captor's hands. he continued in cat verbiage. Nick continued to irritate Sidney with foolish sentiments. "You're upsetting Natalie. You don't want that, do you?" Sidney insisted. He hissed and spat a bit more, growing weary of trying to reason with a DOG-LIKER, especially a COLD-HANDED DOG-LIKER. Sidney insulted his captor, he concluded, ignoring the fact that a cat's moist and dainty nose could often feel cold to the touch, no different from a canine's. Sidney reared with a mighty swipe, scratching as deeply as his sharp claws allowed across Nick's face. ****************************************************************** "Ow!" Nick dropped the cat in favor of covering his face with his hands, wondering over the sensation of this new type of injury. The cat sprang away, determinedly set upon his mission. "Nick, are you okay?" Natalie pried back one of Nick's hands and grimaced at the sight of the ragged, bloody marks. If Sidney had gone after a mortal like that, it would have left permanent scars. "I don't know what's gotten into Sidney!" "I'd say he's upset about *something,*" Nick replied sarcastically. "Don't worry about me. I'll heal in a minute. Let's find out what Sidney's doing, and Nat...?" "Yes, Nick?" "I know he's your cat, but to be on the safe side, let me risk the scratches." Nick swiftly picked the cat's progress out from the crowd. Sidney had run to a back corner of the yard, where the Schankes' dog played. As they rushed closer, he saw the cat sneak up behind Columbo and bite the terrier's tail. The dog immediately snapped back, forcing the cat to dodge out of the way on a trail of furious squalling. Angry barking retorted. Everything growled. The sounds brought Schanke's attention as well, and he arrived at the scene of the animal's altercation simultaneously with Nick and Natalie. "Columbo! Cut that out! Here!" The dog reluctantly approached, settling halfway on top on one of Don's shoes with a 'poor-me' expression. Sidney ignored his owner. Once the dog wasn't a threat, he moved purposefully to a recently disturbed patch of ground and began to scratch at the surface. Natalie crouched for a better look. "What's there, Sid?" Noting that her cat appeared less upset now, simply focused, she reached out to pet him lightly. "Careful, Nat," Nick cautioned. His nose felt smooth again, his was injury healed, but he hadn't forgotten so quickly how it had *felt* to be shredded like a piece of tissue paper. Sidney accepted her attention, but he didn't look up from his scratching. "The cat's not having a litter box moment, is he?" Schanke asked baldly. "I don't think so. In fact..." Natalie caught view of something dingy and off-white barely poking out of the ground. "...Oh dear." She grabbed the pale object and pulled. In a shower of falling dirt, a now-grungy stuffed animal appeared. Natalie squeezed the toy. No sound emerged. "Poor Mr. Moo." Seeing that she had rescued his steer, Sidney began to prance, weaving happily around Natalie's legs and rubbing his cheeks against the plush animal dangled between her fingers. "No wonder Sidney went ballistic," Natalie reasoned. "He saw Columbo burying Mr. Moo." "Hey, Nat, I'm sorry about the dog and everything. I saw him playing with the cow, but I never dreamed he'd dump the sucker in a hole! Bad dog!" Schanke chided, while Columbo gazed up at him incomprehensibly. "It's okay. He was just being a dog, Schank." Nat noticed that Sidney had settled beside Mr. Moo and had begun to groom one horn clean. "Sid! Ugh!" She stood, taking the stuffed steer with her. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this," she said in an aside to Nick. "I don't think I can get it clean enough for Sid to play with again. It's a shame, but I'll have to throw Mr. Moo away. This was Sid's favorite toy. Oh, well, I'll just give him extra rations of Q-tips for a few days, and he'll change his mind." Nick glanced down at the cat, who kept bouncing up on his hind legs to poke a paw at the stuffed steer, then he rubbed his nose on a thoughtful memory. He wasn't as convinced as Nat that Sidney would give up Mr. Moo so easily. "Uh, Nat? Why are you whispering?" "So Sidney doesn't hear. Would you mind trashing Mr. Moo for me? I'll distract him with some chicken." Nick stared at the stuffed animal as Natalie handed it over, feeling uncertain. He looked from her expectant face to the cat's, then murmured a low, "Sure, Nat." As Nick moved toward the house, he heard Sidney mewl at his departure with Mr. Moo. He heard Natalie begin to lecture the cat. "If you want to stay outside, Sid, you'll have to be good. Leave Columbo alone." Schanke followed with his own command. "Right! Dogs on the right side of the yard, cats on the left! Everybody to your corners!" Nick noticed that his shoulders had tensed involuntarily. Mr. Moo drew his eyes as he walked, and he noted its features: vinyl horns punctured with teeth marks, the black and dusty hooves, the fuzzy brown-tipped tail, a wound in the stitching on the underside of the steer's neck that now seeped polyester fiber. Nick reminded himself that it was just a toy. A cat could get along without a toy. Captain Stonetree caught his attention, and Nick found himself reporting about the cat/dog conflict. "Any victims, Knight?" the captain joked. He waved Mr. Moo in the air. A shred of its filling drifted free, wafting to the grass. "Just a bum steer." Stonetree laughed then commented to two fellow officers and their wives, "That's why I keep tropical fish." Nick excused himself and wandered into the house. He went to the Schankes' kitchen, his toy-filled hand hovering over their garbage can, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't let go. Nick thought of the affection Sidney felt for the toy, and guilt kicked at him. He stepped back from the garbage, and he turned and walked out of the kitchen, toward the front door. Natalie didn't believe that Mr. Moo could be cleaned, and she was ready to give up on him. Nick wanted to at least try to make the toy better, for Sidney's sake. Mr. Moo spent the rest of the night stuffed into the Cadillac's glove compartment. ********************************************************************* End of Part Three Sidney experienced grave suspicions when he observed Nick, the DOG-LIKER, walking back into the DOG HOUSE with custody of Mr. Moo. To top it off, Mom sounded as though she was irritated with *him,* not the DOG, not the DOG-LIKER, but SIDNEY! Her very own JOLLY GOOD FELLOW! Sidney was stymied as to what to make of that. Once Mom left him with strict orders to stay on the left side of the backyard, or he would suffer A Fate Worse Than Shots, Sidney decided to practice the CRAFT OF BEING A CAT. he assured himself. For a petulant moment, Sidney indulged the idea of running away. A trellis lined the back fence, supporting tea roses and sweet pea blossoms. Sidney could climb over it and snatch freedom in an instant, before Mom could so much as say she was sorry for not appreciating his state of boy cat majesty. A firefly flickered overhead, derailing Sidney's train of thought. He leapt, stretching his right paw as far as possible, swiping at the bobbing light. Sidney dramatized, The fictitious heavenly firmament was in luck that evening. Though he attempted for an hour, Sidney never quite managed to pull down one of their number. ******************************************************************* When Dad barked, "Bad dog!' in a lecturing command, Columbo hadn't a clue what he was talking about. Dad had ordered him to sit, hadn't he? Columbo was sitting. What was the problem? Columbo shook his fur, suspecting that his Dad's confusion probably derived from more of the cat's deceit. That cat was a pretty sneaky customer, convincing a dog to lose his favorite toy forever and ever. It was only fair that he'd buried the Moo-toy. The cat had only experienced a brief separation, not Columbo's interminable longing for his blue ball. Columbo grinned up at Nick as he took control of the moo-thing. Columbo liked Nick, because he was the kind of person who fed a dog. Not just scraps or plate licks, mind you - Nick even gave a dog the good bits that most people hoarded for themselves. Columbo was glad he wound up with Sidney's toy. He had faith that Nick's guarding made it as good as buried. Columbo sent Sidney an aggressive look, but the cat was too busy whining to notice. Columbo panted gleefully as Sidney's person began to fuss at him. Unfortunately, his Dad got in on the act, ordering him to stay on the right side of the yard and leave the cat alone. Columbo didn't understand why he was the one who had to tolerate the cat. This was HIS home, after all. Sidney had gate crashed his territory, not the other way around, yet he was expected to be patient and make allowances. Columbo sighed, then settled into a comfortable curl under his favorite tree. After a few minutes, something made his nose twitch. Columbo went on alert, scanning the night air expectantly. There it was! A tiny light, dodging in front of his face! It was a bug! CHOMP! He missed, but that didn't matter. Columbo enjoyed chomping for its own sake. CHOMP! Miss. CHOMP! Miss. CHOMP! Columbo smacked his tongue several times to rid it of the buggy aftertaste. Still... CHOMP! It was a fun way to pass an hour. ******************************************************************** After an hour, Sidney lost interest in playing with the bugs, a.k.a. the flying stars. At a conveniently frustrated moment, something interesting darted over his left paw, causing him to jump three feet in the air out of surprise. Sidney landed in a crouch, like a mighty lion hunting a wildebeest in the veldt. Sidney asked the night wind. A whisper-slither parted a small sprouting of the grass before his eyes. Sidney jumped again, this time in a spasm of excitement. Sidney declared dramatically for the benefit of the flying stars, a.k.a. the bugs. Actually, it was a run-of-the-mill, little green lizard. Sidney, however, was further indulging the CRAFT OF BEING A CAT. Battling dinosaurs sounded oh-so-much-more impressive. Sidney hunched his shoulders in a pre-pounce position, tensing the muscles of his arms, prepping them to spring mightily upon the vicious reptile. His eyes darted over the grass, scanning for further movement from his prey. He bobbed his head. Up ahead, a waving of virid blades revealed a scaly tail making its escape. Sidney announced, wiggling his rump in exposition of his plans. Sidney sprang. Sidney landed just behind the squirming body of the ferocious dinosaur. He opened his jaws and... ****************************************************************** CHOMP! Columbo waggled his tongue. Bug eating was taking its toll, and a faint trace of foam lined his lips, suggesting that dogs weren't meant to live on a staple of fireflies. Chasing the hamburger and chips in his belly, his stomach was nicely rounded and gurgling from the variety of atypical foods. Columbo resolved to ignore all the sparkly bugs, even if they were fun to chomp. His taste buds needed a nap. In fact, his body could use a nap, too. Columbo circled and settled in a comfy spot on the back lawn intending just that. His furry chin resting on his forepaws, he gave a contented yawn-sigh and closed his eyes. A flicker-slide disturbed the grass in front of his nose. Columbo's eyes darted open halfway as he sniffed the night air for clear information. He sniffed a few more times, sorting through his scent memories. His eyes opened fully, and he pushed his body to sit at attention. He circled with excitement. His tail cycled like a hyper windshield wiper. Columbo's tummy echoed his thought, making a dubious sound. The dog looked down, aiming his nose between his front legs. Columbo crouched following his nose as he aimed his body in the proper direction. Keeping his stomach flat against the ground, he shuffled forward a body length, keeping his eyes attuned for any lizardesque movement. Up ahead, he picked out another whip-like wiggle straight ahead. Columbo poised himself, tilting his head forward slightly. Columbo bounced. He landed just in front of the squirming body of the chewy, yellow-bellied green lizard. He opened his jaws and... ************************************************************ Sidney chomped the lizard. Columbo chomped the lizard. Cat and dog would up cold nose touching cold nose, the front half of the reptile wriggling in Columbo's mouth, the back half wriggling in Sidney's. Things did not bode well for the lizard. Both animals were surprised at their sudden proximity. Sidney froze, his back arched and ears flattened, digging his claws into the ground. Columbo let go of his half of the lizard, recalling his Dad's firm instructions. He darted backward, expressing a chain of barks that swore up and down, Sidney's source of astonishment diverted for a moment as he suddenly found an entire lizard - ahem, DINOSAUR - dangling from his lips by the tail. He ducked his head as though to get a better look at it, then sniffed as the creature moved an equal distance away from view. Sidney tried again, but the DINOSAUR remained crafty. Sidney glared at the yipping DOG, suspected that Columbo had encouraged the reptile to be difficult by example. The lizard, sensing the arrival of a lucky break, capitalized on it. He shed his tail. Columbo stopped barking long enough to look at what the cat was doing. He watched the lizard's front half plop away from Sidney and wriggle toward the fence, slipping underneath to the outside territory. Columbo would have followed, but the escape unfolded on the cat's side of the yard. The boundaries may have prevented him from chasing, but they didn't stop him from taunting. Taunting was free airspace activity. Sidney wanted to make a retort, but that would mean letting go of the trophy tail in his mouth. He issued a small growl instead, then raced off to find Mom so he could tattle how the DOG broke his lizard - ahem, DINOSAUR. ******************************************************************** Natalie hadn't completely gotten over Nick's deception with the hamburger. She gave him a bit of the silent treatment, turning her back slightly to converse instead with Myra about her job's new line of bath salts, leaving Nick to stare moodily at the last third of his beer. Nat was on the verge of placing an order for Skin Pretty's 'Passionfruit Cleansing Experience' when she felt the familiar press of a soft paw on her leg. Her response began as warm and welcoming. "Hello, Sid! What's handsome doing?" Natalie glanced down to see what her cat wanted. She found him staring up at her proudly, the tail of an unfortunate animal swinging from his mouth, still wriggling with the spasmodic echo of life. The welcome in her voice transformed into horror. "Sid! Ugh!" Seeing him start to chew, threatening to finish off the bit of reptile, Natalie jumped out of her chair and went straight to the upbraiding. "Stop that! Drop that right now, young man!" Nick stopped staring at his beer bottle to see what had caused Natalie to sound so indignant and appalled. "What did Sidney do?" "I'll tell you what he's not doing - he's not eating that lizard!" First Natalie bent over, intent on snatching the tail fragment from Sidney's jaws. The cat dodged his head from side to side, expertly playing keep away. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?!" Natalie demanded in exasperation. She picked Sidney up around his middle. "Drop it!" Finding his feet off the ground, Sidney let his body hang in dead weight like a transported kitten. His mouth, however, remained tightly clamped. "Drop it!" Natalie repeated, her voice rising. "Do you want to be a good cat or a bad cat?" Sidney let out a wail of philosophical protest, and the lizard's tail tumbled to the patio. He was obviously upset because she had been yelling at him, so Natalie hugged the cat to her chest, rubbing under his chin as she sat. "That's a good boy. You never wanted to eat that lizard in the first place, did you, Sidney? Not my jolly good fellow. You don't want to hunt creatures that are weaker than you, I know you don't. We've had this talk before." Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Nat, he's a cat. They hunt creatures out of instinct. Sidney can't help his instincts." "I don't want him killing things and bringing them to me as trophies! Sidney doesn't have to do it, and if I keep reminding him it's bad, he'll eventually learn!" As she snapped her retort at Nick, Nat had loosened her grip on the cat. Sidney made a break for it, scrambling out of her lap and racing deep into the backyard. Natalie whirled around in her chair. "Sid!" He didn't pause at the yard's fence, but scooted up the trellis, then disappeared over the other side. Now Natalie was running through the backyard. "Oh my god! Sidney!" She clung to the top of the fence and tried to look over and catch a glimpse of her cat, but it was too tall. Nick had followed, and he felt as though his hands were tied. It would have been easy enough for him to leap over the fence and follow Sidney if they'd been alone, but he couldn't demonstrate such athletics in front of so many people. Myra joined them, and Nick asked, "Is your neighbor's yard fenced? Could Sidney be confined?" Myra grimaced. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid they don't have a fence." Natalie paled as she hugged her arms around her stomach. "It was because I was yelling at him. I frightened him! What if he's so frightened he doesn't stop running? He could end up anywhere! He could get in the street..." Panic began to crawl into her voice as she shook her head. "Sidney's not used to being outside. The traffic...being in a strange place..." A distant sound interrupted her worrying. *Crickle-crickle-BOOM!* Natalie let out a cry and covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh my god - fireworks! That'll terrify him!" They simultaneously began to move toward the house. "I'll cover the neighborhood, Nat," Nick promised. "I'll find him." "I'm coming along," she insisted. "Who knows what might happen- ?" Natalie's voice cracked on a panicked breath. Nick took her hands. "I think you should stay here. Trust me to take care of him." His voice lowered as he added, "Besides, I have more tracking experience." Natalie sniffed. "Then go *now!* If something happened to Sidney out there, I couldn't bear it!" Nick squeezed her grip and turned to leave, but Myra called in a helpful voice, "Don will take Columbo out - he's glad to help!" Schanke had just settled with a freshly opened beer - his first sit-down of the evening. He glanced at his wife like a moose trapped in a pair of headlights. Seeing her warning expression, he set the beer aside abashedly and began to push out of his chair. "I was just getting ready to say that, Hon. Honest!" "It's your party, Schank. Stay," Nick insisted, his voice brooking no argument. "I'll accept Columbo's help, though." At so much discussion of his name, the dog padded forward and barked excitedly. Nick patted his head as he slid open the door to the house. "Come on, Columbo! Let's get the cat!" As the dog issued a double bark and jogged through the house, Nick gave Natalie a final look. "I will find him." She let out a shaky breath. "Go." ****************************************************************** End of Part Four Sidney's feelings were hurt. Here he'd gone to all the trouble of catching a ferocious DINOSAUR and presenting it to her, and Mom wouldn't do anything but treat him like a BAD BOY! It was as though she had no appreciation of the CRAFT OF BEING A CAT at all! She probably didn't even care that the DOG had broken it. Just for that, he was going to swallow it good and not share it at all. That would show her. Apparently Mom realized she was missing out on a treat, because suddenly all she wanted to do was TAKE Sidney's DINOSAUR TAIL from him and keep all the chewy morsels to herself! Well Sidney wasn't going to give into that plan. He bobbed and weaved away from her snatching paws. He'd chomped this DINOSAUR'S TAIL fair and square. It was his! All of the sudden, Sidney found himself dangling midair. Mom began to fuss at him, really angry over some injustice. Sidney tried the passive approach and hung limply, figuring she'd realize in a moment just how unfair she was being if he didn't argue. Then he heard the question, one that caught him off guard. "Do you want to be a good cat or a bad cat?" Sidney opened his mouth to counter. His DINOSAUR TAIL plummeted to the ground, lost. That trick really made Sidney feel abused. Now Mom would take his treat, and she didn't even appreciate it. But no! Mom ignored the DINOSAUR TAIL, and suddenly began to force her affections and grooming on him! Suddenly, she was all kissy-voiced and approving! Sidney was so confused, he wanted to hide his head and pretend the world wasn't there. Then things got worse! Mom started to pay attention to Nick, the DOG-LIKER again! Her jolly good fellow Sidney was no longer important. She didn't want to groom him or tell him how nice and handsome and brave he was anymore, either. It was all Nick, Nick, NICK! Mom's voice became fearsome again, and she said Sidney's name in a very disapproving way. He'd had it. Sidney wasn't going to stay where he wasn't loved more than some cold- nosed guy that PETTED DOGS. Sidney remembered the trellis along the fence, and his earlier threats of escape from tyranny. he thought. He flung his body out of her lap, bounding for freedom as fast as his muscular legs would carry him. Climbing the trellis was no problem, except for the point where Sidney felt one of the rose thorns sink into his paw pad. He flinched, but kept moving. Reaching the top of the fence, his body seemed to keep moving forward. Sidney found himself flying through the air for a second. Just when he'd decided he like the sensation of floating, he hit the ground. WHUMP! Sidney tensed, sinking his claws into the cool ground. Strange grass, strange flowers, and a strange house surrounded him. He'd landed in an entirely new world. Sidney changed his mind. Freedom wasn't that important. His toys were important. His territory, his bed, his food bowl, his litter box, his Mom - these were the important things. Sidney wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his apartment, where there was no grass and the only sunshine filtered through windows, where Mom never let him nap on her wool coat, and the only strawberry yogurt he ever tasted came as espionage licks slipped when Mom wasn't looking. Sidney had to get HOME, had to get HOME. He began to run, his thoughts buzzing. He'd know it if he found it, Sidney was sure. He'd keep running, he'd just keep moving until he found HOME, and Mom would be there, and everything would be as it should be. The surface beneath Sidney's paws changed from moist and soft to hard and scratchy. Sidney grimaced, feeling the thorn stuck in his paw all the more from the change in pressure. He paused, lifting his right hind leg to lick at his injury. The thorn wouldn't leave right away, so Sidney had to chew a bit on his toes to work the sliver free. The sense of relief that his paw was unburdened was immediately replaced by shock. Some growling, churning, brightly lit MONSTER barreled straight toward him. It was the same sound he heard when Mom put him in the plastic box, between HOME and The Place You Get Shots. Sidney hated that sound. He leapt blindly. Because the light was so strong, it reminded him of the time he'd thought to try sniffing underneath a lampshade. Sidney had singed off half of his whiskers, and he'd learned that cats should never play near really bright and shiny things. A forceful wave of air rushed at his back, as though he'd narrowly missed a giant door closing on his tail. Sidney felt grass spring beneath his pads again, and he started running anew. Sidney began to wonder about the wisdom of his plan. Maybe running until he found HOME wasn't a good idea. Maybe he should look for the DOG HOUSE instead. Could that place be closer than HOME? He didn't really want to return to the DOG HOUSE; after all, it had the DOG in it. But it had Mom, too. Sidney decided that, if it meant being safe back with her, he could tolerate a DOG. He could even be nice to that DOG, if he was in a safe place where the ground wasn't covered in rocks and scary, bright ROARS didn't swipe at you out of nowhere. Yes, Sidney could be nice to that DOG...that...that dog. Sidney jogged to a stop and sniffed at his surroundings. He spared one last, petulant thought for the dog. Sidney rotated his ears, sorting the night sounds, searching for harsh, irritating noises. When he found one, he shouted. It wasn't Columbo barking. No, he hadn't found a reason to celebrate. He'd found a horrible sound, one that terrified Sidney and made him feel threatened. It took all the bravado out of him. Sure, he'd playacted with the dog earlier, showing him how to dodge and pretend with the blue ball, but this was the real thing. Sidney heard the sound of BOMBS exploding, and he knew that he was just a small cat. He couldn't defeat REAL BOMBS; he had to hide, and hiding would mean no returning to Mom. Sidney let out a mournful sob, ashamed of his cowardice. All at once, a BOMB dropped out of the sky, landing almost on his tail! Sidney shrieked. It sizzled and cracked, it hissed and taunted Sidney with a chain of *crickle- crickle-crickles.* Sidney knew what came next - the BOOM! Sidney wailed and jumped as mightily far as he could. BOOM! Sidney was alive. He'd escaped the explosion. He crouched nervously, staring at the site of the detonation for signs of another attack. That's when Sidney heard the next harsh sound. Laughter flexing in twin streams scraped through the darkness. It grew closer and louder. Sidney cringed in fear, in despair as to what to do. He was scared, because he now faced a pair of creatures far worse than any LITTLE GIRLS... LITTLE BOYS. ******************************************************************* Bobby had half a dozen books of matches he'd pilfered from the jar his dad kept in the den, souvenirs from all the bars he'd soused in across Canada and New England. Bobby cashed in one of the six by practicing how to flick flames to life with one hand, then tossed the tiny torches at the head of his best friend, Max, amid fiendish snickers. "You TURD!" Max shouted as one of his eyebrows caught fire. He clapped a hand over his eye, smothered the burning hair, then tackled his best friend to the ground. He punched and pounded Bobby until he stopped laughing and gurgled on whimpers of pain instead. Max and Bobby had both turned twelve in May. They were the kind of children that their mothers called 'curious' and 'special.' Everyone else in the neighborhood called them 'evil brats destined for juvie hall.' Max and Bobby did their best to prove their mothers deluded and the neighborhood right. Most little boys wouldn't get away with roaming the streets on their own after dark, especially with pockets filled with matches and firecrackers. But Max and Bobby, if you will remember, are 'special.' Their mothers believe they should have the freedom to express themselves, and if that expression has to take place outdoors after nine o'clock, then so be it. Heavens forefend that the little boys be stifled! Max choked his best friend by the throat, demanding that he concede to his will. "I'll let you go if you say, 'I am a stupid baby wuss afraid of the Nightcrawler!'" He banged the other boy's head against the ground. "Say it!" Bobby vainly shook his head. "Won't do it!" "Say it!" "If I'm a wuss, you are, too!" The boys had taunted each other like this since last Halloween. That was back when they'd had a second-best friend named Sammie, and the three of them had sneaked into CERK radio station with a baseball bat planning to do some damage to the late-night host who was always talking about love, moonlight, poetry and other girly stuff. Naturally, he'd seemed like a good candidate for an ass-kicking. The guy in person...well, he'd had the boys running for their lives with one look. At the time, the boys had concluded that the Nightcrawler must be a real flesh-eating zombie. It had seemed so real, Sammie had experienced some kind of stupid lifestyle change. He started turning the other two boys away at his front door and transferred schools. He'd become a nerd, reading books and drawing and other brain crap like that. Once the specter of Halloween faded, Max and Bobby had realized that the Nightcrawler had fooled them with a *costume,* and they were Toronto's biggest idiots. To avoid admitting this information, each boy expended equal energy pounding the other into admitting how much more of a gullible coward he was. "Say it, Bobby!" "I don't believe in flesh-eating zombies!" Bobby shouted as loud as he could. "Yes, you do! You're a girl just like Sammie!" Well, you just don't slur Bobby with such an insult and expect to live. The boy struggled with one hand into his pocket while he held back Max's choking efforts with the other. Bobby ripped one match free, blazing it to life with a scratch of his thumbnail. Hearing the chemicals flare, he held the match light up to Max's arm. "Ahhh!" Abandoning threats to the other boy in favor of his own immediate self- interest, Max let Bobby go and hugged his arm. "That hurt!" Bobby cackled as he climbed to his feet and pointed at his friend's pouty expression. "Who's the girl, now?" "Get out of my face. You suck." Pain seeping away and humiliation taking its place, Max sought a method of getting even. He had a pocket full of firecrackers, and he saw the fallen match still flickered in the grass. Max picked it up carefully, gritting his teeth as the heat bit his fingers. He lit the fuse of a sparkler, enjoyed the first sizzle sound, then aimed it at his best friend's feet. Bobby hopped in the air the moment he realized what had landed next to his sneakers. "You're crazy!" "And you dance like a girl," Max retorted. "Would a girl do this?" To prove he had balls, Bobby picked up the sizzling firecracker. There was less than an inch left on the fuse. He whirled it over his head, tossing it into the next yard. "Dude, you could have blown your fingers off! We might have gotten grounded!" Max shouted. After a moment, his features twisted into a quirky smile. "Cool." Bobby punched his arm. "Shut up!" He motioned his head toward the other yard. "Did you hear that?" Max listened and nodded as they heard a sound resembling a baby's cry. "It's a cat, dimwad." Bobby began to laugh. "And I wasted him with the firecracker!" They heard the sparkler erupt in its climactic explosion. "Let's go look!" ****************************************************************** Columbo toddled alongside Nick at a steady pace. He wasn't built for speed like some, but he made up for it in determination. He still wanted to shake his head at the cat's silly antics - what did Sidney think he'd achieved by climbing over the fence? Inside the fence, people brought you food. Inside the fence, people rubbed your tummy. Inside the fence, people gave you bones. Any dog know that the territory outside the fence carried a million things that deserved barking. The reason you barked at that stuff was to keep it there on the other side of the fence. Only a fool or a cat would go looking for that trouble. Columbo glanced up at Nick with uncertainty. They'd already traveled outside his usual marking zone when The Kid or Dad took him for walks. They had entered unknown terrain. Columbo made a gruff, questioning sound. "We have to find Sidney safe and sound," Nick replied. "He may not like us, but Nat thinks he's special. That's good enough for me." Columbo ducked his head, his spirits temporarily muffled by the reminder that he was disliked, even if it was by the antisocial Sidney. The grass passing underneath began to tickle his nose, and he sneezed. "Scat cat," Nick teased. Columbo drew back his lips and silently bared his teeth.. A crickle-BOOM! twisted the normal night sounds into knots. It reminded Columbo of thunder - usually a good reason to curl up on The Kid's bed - but he picked up a faint background wail that stilled his movements. He growled in his throat. Nick paused, also on alert. "You heard it, too? Come on!" Nick began to run, far faster than any humans Columbo was accustomed to dragging along the sidewalk. he panted. Nick looked over his shoulder and saw this predicament. He crouched down and lifted Columbo into his arms. "I know an even quicker way. Bark if you like to fly." Whoosh! Columbo suddenly felt light as a feather. He glanced down and emitted a woof of surprise at the view. The ground was so far away! He could see the tops of houses and trees, just like a bird! Their movement through the air created a stream of wind against his face, lifting his ears until they floated aerodynamically behind his head. Columbo liked the feeling. He opened his mouth and let his tongue catch the tickling breeze. Down below, Columbo could see two tiny figures, sized like bugs. He couldn't see Sidney, but he could hear the cat rowling in fury and fear. Sparkles and flickers lit up part of the lawn, followed by another echoing BOOM! Columbo heard Nick growl. He did a good job of it, for a non-dog. Columbo joined in as they tilted at a sharp angle toward land. ******************************************************************** The LITTLE BOYS looked down at Sidney with mischief. he hissed. "Crap, Bobby," one LITTLE BOY said. "You didn't even scorch him." "Fine," the OTHER LITTLE BOY said. "Light me another." "They're my sparklers. I'll do it, dog brain." Sidney's eyes became saucers at the last words. Suddenly it seemed like an insult to dogs everywhere to compare their brains with those of these MONSTERS. Sidney yelled at them. The LITTLE BOYS had been punching each other. Sidney's slur drew their attention. "Hey," one LITTLE BOY said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "The cat's giving us attitude." "Hand me the match." The OTHER LITTLE BOY said. "I'll show him attitude." Sidney saw the OTHER LITTLE BOY light up the BOMB, heard it sizzle in his hand, and his heart pumped in mad anxiety. Sidney longed for a set of drapes to scale away from this danger. Drapes were safe. Then, the OTHER LITTLE BOY gave him a hint. He telegraphed his next move. He wasn't going to hold onto the BOMB. He planned to throw it at SIDNEY. Sidney was outraged. He had also discovered the best place to hide. Sidney launched himself at the OTHER LITTLE BOY, digging his claws into the MONSTER'S upper leg and adding his teeth for good measure. He would not let go until the BOMB exploded elsewhere. "Owwww! OWWWWWWW!" At first, Sidney thought the OTHER LITTLE BOY'S cries resembled that of a LITTLE GIRL, but he decided that comparison wasn't really fair to LITTLE GIRLS. Sidney sensed when the BOY threw the BOMB. "Help get it off me!!!" The BOY started to hit at him and pull, but Sidney sunk his claws in deeper. He shook his head, making a deadly sound as he ground his jaws into the EVIL MONSTER'S flesh. *Crickle-crickle-crickle-BOOM!* Sidney experienced a tiny grain of relief. He had escaped the BOMB, but now what could he do to elude the LITTLE BOYS? Another pair of hands had begun to hit and pull at him. He felt trapped! A cavalry of hope raised his ears. From overhead, Sidney heard a familiar bark. It was Columbo! COLUMBO was in the sky, swooping down through the trees as though he'd suddenly become a panther! Two sets of growls reached Sidney as he heard the landing. he thought, ******************************************************************* End of Part Five Nick set Columbo stably on his paws then reared up to yank the closest figure away from harming Sidney in one smooth movement. The dog took little time to recover his land legs, immediately launching at the figure Sidney had attacked with additional growls and bared teeth. Nick's eyes flared a vivid gold-red as he instinctively bared his fangs. He had Sidney's attacker lifted by the throat before he even registered that he held a young boy; he wasn't even old enough to be a teenager. "Nnngghhhaah!" the boy groaned in horror. He flailed, grabbing Nick's arm for support. "Max! Jesus, Max! Run! It's a flesh-eating zombie!" He struggled helplessly in Nick's grip. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" The boy named Max had worries of his own. Sidney had begun to slack off once he had reinforcements, but Columbo was doing his best to deliver the full threat of a flesh- eating dog. Both smaller animals scratching and nipping at his heels, Max broke free and ran sobbing for his life down the street. His partner in crime cried as well. "Please, Mister! Lemme go!" "Give me one good reason I should spare you!" Nick hissed through his teeth. "I-I-I-...I'm just a kid!" he wailed. All at once, alarm bells eclipsed the killer instinct. Natalie's voice repeated in his head, Nick jerked his head to the right. Both Sidney and Columbo sat there calmly, but stared up at him with hypnotic, questioning eyes. "No," he breathed. He shook his head and repeated the word, more loudly this time. "No!" The boy assumed the denial was meant for him and wailed louder. "Honest, I'm just a kid! I'm only twelve! I don't know any better!" "What's your name?" Nick asked in a low, deadly voice. "B-b-bobby. Bobby Wilson!" "If you don't know any better, Bobby..." Nick swerved his glare back in the boy's direction. The fangs were gone now, as well as the feverish glow to his eyes, but his stare was no less menacing. "A word to the wise: you had better start learning. Fast." Nick opened his grip, and the boy flapped to hold himself upright. After a few seconds, he gave up and tumbled into a whimpering heap on the grass. Nick knelt beside him, looking over his condition. "First off, no more picking on creatures smaller or weaker than you." He glanced at Columbo and Sidney again. "It makes you less of a man...less of a human." Turning his eyes back to the boy, he continued, "Secondly, if you keep living by violence and crime, you'll never stop running into flesh-eating zombies. Thirdly..." Nick said as he rose to a stand, a wry twist to his mouth. "...Get new friends." He turned his back on the boy, moving to check the animals for injuries. Bobby sat for a minute, breathing heavily. When Nick showed no inclination to speak to him again, he dug up enough courage to stammer, "C-c-can I g-go?" Nick gave him a forbidding look over one shoulder. Sidney had curled into his lap, tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. The cat didn't like him enough to do that unless he was traumatized. "You'd better run home while you still can," he growled. "Y-yes! Yes, sir!" The boy scrambled to his feet, desperate to get home and huddle in his bed. As he ran, he began to wonder what his old friend Sammie's new school was like, and if he would consider being Bobby's tutor. Columbo edged closer, propping his head on Nick's knee, glancing up through warm brown eyes. After a while, Sidney unearthed from Nick's elbow and leaned to give the dog's nose a few tentative licks. It took some coordination, but the vampire began to pet both animals while all three of them relaxed from the excitement. Reluctantly, Nick ceased his rubbing of Sidney's chin and interrupted the soundtrack of purrs and happy sighs issued by the cat and dog. "We should get back." He looked Sidney in the eye. "Natalie feels terrible that you ran away. She's upset and scared, and she thinks she's failed you." Sidney gave a small meow, and Nick rubbed the tips of the cat's ears. "I know. You didn't really mean to hurt her. She just doesn't always understand how hard it is to be a cat sometimes, to not give into your natural instincts." Sidney peeped encouragingly, while Columbo gave a dubious yawn. A troubled frown descended over Nick's features. "Can any of us escape our instincts? Can we possibly learn? Change?" The night sky spontaneously shimmered with a symphony of bursting colors, combined with equal bursts of deafening sound. The official neighborhood fireworks show had commenced. Nick glanced down worriedly at Sidney, wondering how soon he'd feel the cat's panicked claws sink in for a little comfort. Sidney looked back at him, still purring. The claws remained sheathed. "You're not scared?" Nick asked bemusedly. Sidney gently rose to his hind legs, leaning against Nick's chest, and rested a soft paw on the tip of his chin. He dropped off of Nick's lap, sidled up next to Columbo, and proceeded to give the dog's uppermost ear a good tongue bath. Pausing briefly, the feline sent Nick a lingering look, as if to say, ******************************************************************* Sidney heard the apartment door open and peered over the arm of the couch. Mom usually arrived home later than this, and this visitor stepped differently. His nose bobbed as he sniffed for further clues. The scent of old leather and gunpowder...Nick! Sidney bounced off the sofa and jogged to greet him. Once Sidney had decided to give Nick the benefit of the doubt, despite his continued capacity to distract his Mom's attention, Nick had proven an excellent capacity for CAT SPOILING. Sidney liked that quality in a friend. Nick gave him strawberry yogurt, a spoonful at a time. This tribute alone lifted him a tiny step below CATHOOD in Sidney's estimation. Nick brought him grass once, too, long springy tufts of it that a cat could chew. Sidney could see that Nick had a brown paper bag with him, an extra big one, and he knew that tonight would bring a special treat. Sidney cooperated patiently while Nick lifted him off of the floor, but such proximity with the treat bag robbed him of all decorum. He stretched out a paw to poke at it, feeling a rush of giddiness as the paper made a crinkly sound. "You want to see?" Nick asked. "Bet you can guess what it is," Nick said. Sidney was too impatient for games of imagination. He poked emphatically at the bag, causing a violent rustling. "One second," Nick bargained. "Guess." He squeezed the paper bag. The bag erupted in sound. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Sidney wriggled with delight. Nick laughed as he set Sidney's squirming body on the floor, then produced the long- lost toy. Sidney could tell it really was Mr. Moo, not some impostor. He sniffed the stuffed animal long and hard, even grimacing so he could test the odors with the roof of his mouth. Mr. Moo had new scents - some kind of cleaning solvent, a moderate smell of Nick, plus a faint whiff of Columbo, but the old familiars were still there. Mr. Moo smelled like Mom and Sidney. He seized the stuffed steer between his paws and began to gnaw on one horn. "I'm sorry it took so long," Nick said conversationally, "but your toy needed some stitching and cleaning, a bit of stuffing...I fixed him." Sidney paused in his chewing and gave Nick a wide-eyed stare. He felt the flashback returning, the one where he endured THE OPERATION...Poor Mr. Moo! Sidney didn't feel pity for very long. He had an entire lost month of steer wrestling to compensate for. Sidney lay on his side and began to grind Mr. Moo's stomach with his hind legs. He then flipped the toy over and jawed the back of his neck in a death clutch. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Nick propped on the floor next to Sidney's spectacle of toy oppression and shook his head ruefully. "You're a changed cat, huh? I don't know, Sidney...there's a killer in you yet." Sidney begged to differ, and immediately began to groom Mr. Moo's horns. He glanced over at Nick, who had risked resting his head within paw distance. Once upon a time, Sidney would have used such an opportunity to draw blood. Instead, he reached out to brush harmlessly at Nick's cheek. Nick began to rub under Sidney's chin, his favorite spot. Sidney purred, and in a surge of appreciation, he bumped forward, blinked, and touched the tip of his nose to Nick's. It was a cold touch, but Sidney didn't mind. Every cat knows that a cold nose is a sign of a warm heart. ************************************************************* End of Part Six