This is the morning Heather and I take my giant, knock-kneeâd, pigeon-toeâd, oaf of a found-in-a-dumpster kitten, Kodz, over the rainbow bridgeâŠwhen I found him in the parking lot of my job almost 15 years ago, I had no idea he would become such an integral part of who I came to be. He has been my ride or die, my bedtime pillow, and my constant companion through thick and thin.
He has advanced kidney failure.
He is tired, and thin, and readyâŠI told him that Daisy, and Mal, and Fatso will be waiting for him; that he will feel better soon, and that no one could have asked for a better Life Companion than he has beenâŠI will miss him greatly. WE will miss him. Anyone who ever met him is a little less without him in the world, than they were before he came aroundâŠ
âWhat is it doing?â Paint asked, pressing scaly orange hands over her earholes.
âWhining,â I said tersely.
âCan you make it stop?â
âNo luck yet,â I told her as I skimmed over the very short briefing on this animal in our cargo hold. âThey didnât give me much to work with. Hey, buddy, itâs okay, really.â That last was aimed at the vaguely canine creature pacing back and forth in its pen, whining at a pitch liable to work screws loose soon. It had about eight legs, fur the color of dry grass, a long snout, and quite a talent for noises that set my teeth on edge.
âIs it sick?â Paint asked with some desperation.
âNope. Checked that first. It just doesnât like being on a strange spaceship alone, which is entirely reasonable.â I shook the bag of treats again, but only got a brief flicker of attention. âAnd before you ask, I canât pet it because it doesnât know me well enough to trust me.â I stepped forward with a hand outstretched, only for the whines to turn into a warning growl.
âAt least thatâs a different sound,â Paint said, lowering her hands.
I looked back at the briefing screen. âItâs familiar with the people who raised it, and apparently itâs trained to follow a number of commands, but of course they didnât think to include any of those. Anything familiar would be good right now.â
âDo we know what it was trained to do?â Paint asked. She stepped up to read over my elbow. âDoes it hunt pests like Telly?â
âI think itâs a livestock guardian,â I said. âPests are a bonus, but mostly itâs trained to protect other animals from predators.â
âOh. I guess it thinks weâre predators, huh?â Paint closed her lizardy mouth with all its sharp teeth.
âProbably,â I said, taking a step back. The growling stopped, but it wasnât silent for long. The whine started up again. âPoor thing. Even if we leave the room, itâs lonely. Pity the owners didnât send it with a friend.â
âOr any kind of toy,â Paint agreed.
I put those two thoughts together, and had an idea. It probably wouldnât be any more of a distraction than the treats were, but it was worth a shot. âHang on, let me get something,â I said, putting away the info screen and hurrying into the hall. âBe right back!â
My quarters werenât far. I ducked in, gave Telly a scritch where she was napping on my bed, then dug through the bin of cat toys in the corner of the room. Telly stretched and hopped down to see what I was doing.
I tossed her a catnip mouse. There at the bottom was the bag I was looking for: jingly ball toys that Telly had never really taken a shine to. It was a bag of a dozen, with eleven still sealed inside with no cat germs to worry about. I grabbed it and waggled my fingers at Telly, who was eagerly rabbit-kicking the toy and ignoring me completely.
Back to the cargo bay. I could hear the whining from the hallway.
Paint was shaking the treat bag with even less success than Iâd had, one hand pressed to an earhole and her shoulder lifted on the other side. She looked relieved to see me. âWhatâs that?â
âA long shot,â I told her. âThe briefing did say that itâs trained to herd very small creatures.â I took a jingly ball out of the bag, and saw the animal aim all of its attention in my direction. âHey, buddy. See this? This is for you.â I jingled it and approached, bending to where I could hopefully roll it across the floor of the cage. Assuming the alien guard dog would let me.
It did. No growls, no bared teeth (which was good; Iâd seen them before and they would have put an anglerfish to shame). It just watched with intensity as I slipped a hand through the bars just far enough to roll the ball towards it.
These were crush-proof cat toys, designed to be underfoot without risking a shard of broken plastic if someone big stepped on them. I figured that if this beastie decided the toy was something to destroy instead of play with, I wasnât risking an injury to it. And it was nontoxic, inert, of a size that could be swallowed without choking, if it came to that. Jingly poops were the worst case scenario. Hopefully.
I neednât have worried. The alien dog took one look at the little thing rolling toward it, and jumped into guard mode. It nosed the ball away from the edge, standing over it in the center of the cage in a clear protective stance. Watching me, waiting to see what I would do.
I gave it three more, rolled one at a time to where it gathered them together with much more pleased whuffing noises. When I stepped back, carefully keeping the bag from jingling, it clearly decided that was all of them. It circled the huddle of cat toys, then lay down with its long body in a protective circle around them, laying its head on its own haunches, watching me where I stood next to Paint.
âGood dog,â I said.
Paint pressed her hands together quietly. âLook how happy it is! Oh, good job!â
âIâm glad that worked,â I said. âIf it gets fidgety before the trip is over, I can give it a couple more to guard.â
Paint lifted the treat bag. âDo you think it would want any of these now? It kept looking at them before, like itâs hungry but didnât trust them.â
âMaybe,â I said. âWe can toss one in to see if itâs interested. Wouldnât want to get close.â
Paint opened the bag and took out a brown disc that certainly looked like a dog treat. She handed it to me for my long human arms to do the honors, then stepped farther back.
When I tossed it through the bars (not bouncing off even a little; hooray for me), the dog-thing took immediate interest. It scooted forward, bringing the jingly balls with it, then very carefully licked the treat into its long-toothed mouth and bit it in half.
It gulped down one half without a thought, but gently deposited the other half in the center of its protective ring, in case its charges got hungry.
âAww,â I said. âGood dog.â
Paint made a happy squeak beside me. âDo you think the new owners will let it keep those? It would be so sad to leave them behind.â
âI hope so,â I said. âThey could be useful if thereâs any more travel in its future. Letâs tell Captain Sunlight to mention it when we arrive.â
Paint nodded eagerly, closing the bag of treats. With her carrying that bag and me with the other one, we left the cargo bay quietly. I waved at the livestock guardian that watched us go, all settled in with four very safe and watched-over cat toys.
~~~
Good news! Volume One of the collected series is now available in paperback and ebook form! (Check your local store, or this handy link hub.)
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! Thereâs even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadnât thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but theyâre too much fun to leave out of the second).
Every now and then, I still get hit with that feeling that my art is total shit. I used to deal with it almost weekly and feel completely overcome by it, but I've gotten better at recognizing it for what it is, just my own brain attacking me. It still stings, and it's hard not to let it get to me, but Iâm learning not to take those thoughts so personally. Besides, Itâs okay to suck sometimes and not take it all too seriously. I know it's an old pattern of mine, tearing myself down before anyone else can, but realizing that I do have some power over these feelings is liberating. I don't have to stay stuck in that mindset, or at least as long as I did before. :)
