MetaFic

Friday, July 13, 1990

Harry and Seamus were milking the cows when they first heard a dog barking in the distance. The animal did not sound as though it were in pain, so they ignored it. The noise continued, however, and by the time they finished dropping hay for the horses and refilling all of the water barrels, it had become seriously annoying.

“Bloody thing’s been barking for over two hours,” Harry said, looking up at the newly-risen sun. “Let’s go find it before breakfast.”

“Yeah, all right,” Seamus said. “It’s probably arguing with its own shadow, though.”

The main house of the Finnegan homestead lay near the centre of the property. Some distance behind it, three barns formed a loose square with a large corral in the centre and a fenced paddock on the open side, facing the fields. The land in front of the house held the vegetable gardens, where Caitlin was carefully picking tomatoes to go with breakfast. Beyond the barns and to either side, the fields were given over to the crops that fed the Finnegans and produced income for the family.

The two boys climbed out of the corral and set off along the path between the gardens and the fields. Harry was not at all surprised when a high-pitched voice called after them.

“Where you goin’, Harry?” Caitlin shouted from the tomatoes.

“None of your business,” Seamus yelled back.

Harry and Seamus walked towards the stream that formed one edge of the Finnegans’ land and provided water for the crops and animals. The barking came from a small copse of trees which grew around a wide spot in the stream, where the boys swam on hot days. Harry followed the sound and found a large, mud-coloured dog barking tirelessly at the largest of the trees. He recognised it as one of the strays that wandered in the area, though not one that the two boys had befriended.

“Reckon it found a bird?” Seamus asked.

“Why would a bird stay for so long with all the racket?”

“Could have a nest up there.”

The tree grew right at the edge of the wide spot with half its roots exposed at the water’s edge. The dog sat on its haunches directly opposite the pond, staring up into the foliage above and completely ignoring the boys as it barked.

Harry took a few steps closer, still ignored by the dog, and peered upwards. A small black cat lay on the lowest of the branches, several feet above the dog’s head. Its posture was casual, as though it were contemplating a nap, but its golden eyes were fixed on the dog beneath it. Harry thought that the cat looked vaguely bored.

“It’s a cat,” he called to Seamus, who had circled to the edge of the water.

Seamus walked around the still-barking dog towards Harry. “Must’ve been up there all this time. Maybe even all night. Got a collar?”

“Nope. Tiny thing. Could be a kitten. It’s got big ears.”

The feline glanced towards Harry as its ears twitched backwards.

“Huh,” Seamus said. “Creepy eyes.”

“Looks like a miniature panther, doesn’t it?”

They both watched the cat and dog for a few moments before Harry spoke again. “Hardly seems fair. Little thing’s probably hungry by now.”

“You want to help, then?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Seems right.”

“Suit yourself,” Seamus said. He had never been quite as comfortable around dogs as Harry was.

“Oi!” Harry shouted at the brown canine. “Come here, you. Come on!” The dog ignored him and continued barking at the hapless feline.

Harry pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and extracted a sliver of the dried beef that his Foster mother always gave them for snacks. He whistled and held out the morsel. “Come on, you mutt. Eat this instead.”

The dog abruptly stopped barking and turned towards Harry, stretching its nose towards him. It took two steps towards the boys, its tongue lolling out of its mouth.

At that moment, the cat launched itself out of the tree and landed directly between the dog’s shoulders. The tiny creature’s claws sank into the dog’s skin, giving it leverage to bite savagely at the dog’s upturned ear.

The brown cur yelped in surprise and pain. Before it could react any further, the cat sprang off of its back and landed three yards away. The dog recoiled from the sudden movement and ran off along the stream, bleeding a bit and still whimpering faintly.

“Bloody hell,” Seamus said, backing away a bit.

Harry looked back at the cat, which was now cleaning its paws and giving no sign that it had ever moved or exerted any effort whatsoever.

“Suppose that dog got its just desserts, eh?” Harry said to the cat. “Shouldn’t have kept you up there so long.”

The cat stopped grooming itself and wrapped its tail around its front paws. Still as an Egyptian statue, it stared unblinkingly at Harry.

“Err . . .” Harry watched the feline, waiting for it to look away or at least blink. After a few moments, he held out the morsel in his hand. “You want this?”

The cat continued to stare at him until Harry tossed the bit of beef into the grass to its left. Finally breaking its stare, the feline stalked over, sniffed the beef for a moment, and swallowed it whole. Then it licked its nose and returned to its unmoving vigil.

“C’mon, Harry,” Seamus said, drawing Harry’s attention away from the cat. “It must be time for breakfast by now.”

They turned and set off towards the house. They had only gone a few feet when the small black cat bounded past them and began walking a few feet ahead of Harry, on the side furthest from Seamus.

Seamus snorted. “Looks like you got your just desserts, too,” he said. “You helped this pocket-demon attack that poor dog, and now you’re stuck with it.”

Harry looked down at the cat. It looked perfectly at ease leading the two boys back to the Finnegan house, which it had presumably never visited. “Oh, well. At least it won’t eat much.”

“Tell that to the dog.”