The picture box made noise—confused noise, many voices shouting while two-legs ran up and down on grass. They seemed to be fighting or running to catch something. Shadow had seen it before—many times now. Sometimes, the Old One would sit up on his couch, wave his arms, and shout, too. Shadow didn’t really understand why. It was just one of those weird human things.
Today, though, the Old One had fallen asleep. Not for the first time, Shadow wished he knew how to make the picture box shut up. From what he could see, it involved pointing a smaller box at the larger one, but every time he tried to investigate, the smaller box was moved away from him.
He tried moving to a patch on the rug behind the couch. It was a little cramped and could have been warmer, but at least the bulk of the piece of furniture blocked a lot of the noise. He was just beginning to doze when he heard a key in the lock.
Darting out from behind the couch, he ran for the door just in time to catch Sunny coming in. As he came close, he caught a confusing collection of scents. One he recognized—he definitely smelled Gentle Hands.
This could be worse than the Old One’s female friend bringing the young dog here. Shadow had lived in places where the humans brought younger animals to stay. And then, all of a sudden, Shadow didn’t have a home.
But Sunny wouldn’t do that to him.
Would she?
Sunny bent over, reaching her hand out to him. It smelled of Gentle Hands, but no other animals. That was good. Shadow rubbed his face against her fingers, to mark a little bit of his own scent there. Okay. If Sunny tried to pick him up, he’d let her.
Instead, the doorbell rang. Sunny went to answer it, letting in a blast of cold air and snowflakes and a shriek of wind that Shadow had only heard as a faint whisper before.
The female Old One stood in the doorway, with the Biscuit Eater pup straining at the leash in her hand.
Shadow hurriedly backed into the living room. What was going on here?
*
Helena Martinson looked apologetic as she struggled to hold the golden retriever pup in check. “Forgive us for turning up like this,” she said. “We were out for a walk, and the weather turned so nasty all of a sudden.”
“Come right in,” Sunny told the older woman. If she held the door open much longer, they’d have to start shoveling the front hall.
Mrs. Martinson came in, clumps of snow dropping from her dark gray parka—not just the same cut as the one Sunny had picked up, but the same color, too. “We shouldn’t have a problem with Toby,” Mrs. M. promised. “He did his business early on our walk.” She used a piece of tissue to wipe at the puppy’s paws.
Toby stretched to his full height, his paws resting on Helena’s right thigh above her knee. He rattled the ID tags on his collar as Mrs. Martinson undid his leash. Then he dropped his paws back to the floor and gave himself a good shaking.
“I’ve been trying to get him to do that before he goes any farther into the house,” Helena explained, reaching down to pet Toby’s head. “Good boy.”
Toby gave a happy yip and wagged his tail. Then he turned and headed for the living room.
Sunny glanced around. Where had Shadow gone?
“Hey, Dad,” she called. “We have company.”
They came in to find Mike Coolidge blinking awake on the couch. “Helena!” he said in surprise and pleasure. Then he spotted the dog, and his pleasure dimmed a little. “And Toby. What a surprise.”
Sunny spotted Shadow standing off to the side of the arched entranceway. Toby saw him too, and started bumbling his way toward the cat. Either he’d forgotten the unfriendly welcome he’d gotten on his last visit, or he was willing to let bygones be bygones. As Mrs. Martinson joined Mike on the couch and Sunny took a chair, Toby kept coming after Shadow, who in turn kept retreating. Shadow obviously didn’t want to be driven out of his territory, but Toby’s dogged pursuit kept him on the run.
In a desperate leap, Shadow bounced into Sunny’s lap. But even there he wasn’t safe. Toby tried to climb up after him—not very successfully, his antics making Sunny, her dad, and Mrs. Martinson all laugh. Finally, Shadow swarmed to the top of Sunny’s chair and launched himself in a leap to the remaining chair in the room. He set himself on the chair back like a sailor clinging to a refuge while Toby circled mournfully around, unable to reach him. From the way Shadow’s tail lashed about, he didn’t find the situation funny at all.
