#and my neighbor's dogs kept growling at her through the fence so she might have been scared to leave too

[forbodium]

today is my big exercise day for the week apparently

first i cut the grass in the afternoon and then found a collared cat in the backyard and she was really sweet but she ran as soon as her mom came to pick her up, so we chased her around until she got tired enough that i could grab her

[mythicallore]

Bizarre Encounters with Pale Humanoids

Of all of the unsettling denizens of the paranormal that could pop out of the darkness, one of the odder has to be the pale face of a humanoid creature beyond description, eluding all attempts to categorize it. These gaunt, hunched over specters seem to haunt the fringe of reports of the mysterious and supernatural. Yet there are countless such reports coming from people from all walks of life and from all over. Here is a selection of various reports of spectral, deathly pale beings that are humanoid to some extent, but most certainly not human, circling out past the boundaries of the truly odd.

One witness brings us the story of an anonymous Reddit poster who says he had a very spooky encounter in 2006 in rural Arkansas, in the United States. He claims that this happened when he was only 12 years old, and that he had lived in a modest house nestled on around an acre of land out in the boondocks, surrounded by dim woods and its only tendril to the outside world an unpaved dirt road meandering off through the trees. Making the whole scene even spookier is the alleged fact that there was a big old abandoned slaughterhouse somewhere back in the wooded area, as well as the remnants of some burned down house owned by anonymous parties long since gone. Whether this had anything to do with what was to come or not, the witness describes the whole area as rather “mystical and special,” as well as “odd in general,” and that his encounter would happen one evening when he went out to lie down on the outside trampoline after an argument with his parents. It was just him and that big sky with a full moon framed within it, and he says of what happened next:

So I’m laying on the trampoline, and other than the moon there isn’t any light aside from the porch light which is a ways behind me. All of the sudden I vaguely see something move. Its coming from the lot across from the dirt road, and its coming towards me. We had a Boston terrier at the time and at first I figured it was him. But as it got closer I knew that’s not what it was.

 It was sickly pale. It walked on all fours with its hands but seemed to be able to walk upright. Its kind of galloping towards me on all fours and its a little bit aways at this point but getting closer. The light bounced off of its skin and it almost seemed to look wet. Its gait and color is pretty clear to me but I don’t remember anything distinct about its face except that it just seems to be whitewashed to me. It’s happening so fast and now it is right near me still running and then I can’t see it. It’s under the trampoline. And then I feel it, I feel it PUSH up on the trampoline. I didn’t even bother to look back as I ran to the house. I don’t remember my thought process at all past that point but my mom has told me that I came in the house hollering and absolutely terrified.

 I’ve thought about this consistently over the years and as I’ve gotten older have seen stories of similar creatures. I used to describe it as looking like Gollum from the LOTR. I think of the creature kind of fondly in a way. It would never have occurred to me at the time but it almost had a playful vibe to it, and it makes me sad to think that it’s just some lonely but semi-intelligent creature. Maybe a grotesque experiment or some off-kilter evolutionary line. I don’t think that’s impossible. I guess I like to let my imagination run wild with it though. I will always be curious about this and the place in general.

It is hard to know how much stock to put into Reddit reports, but there sure are a lot along the same lines. Another poster at Reddit /r/paranormal gives his own freaky encounter, for which he even supplies photographic evidence. This supposedly happened in 2012, at an undisclosed location at a close-knit friendly barn community in a rural area of the United States, surrounded by dim woods laced with small, scenic trails. The witness says that his two horses were kept on the property, which was near his home and which he would visit ever day to care for and ride around through the peaceful scenery. One evening he had a startling experience as he rode one of the horses, of which he would say:

One evening, around 5pm, I was sitting on her, letting her stand when she started snorting and backing up. I looked up and saw this white/grey creature crawling out of the woods towards us. It had a very small round head, it’s eyes were just pits. It had a very small mouth, not much detail there. It’s arms were very long and thin, fingers also like that. Its rib cage was very pronounced and defined, and it’s legs were long and lanky.

Its movements were very jerky, not smooth and fluid. It slowly jerked out to us, when my horse turned and bolted out of the arena. She’s a dead broke, calm, well manners horse who never spooked before this. Stubborn old mare, but not spooky. She would not go back into the arena that night. I walked her around the barn yard, staying near the main barn, put her up, and ran out to peek into the arena, to find nothing except some “foot prints” where I saw the thing.

This would not be the end of the sightings of this odd creature, as the witness says it would lurk around the dark periphery of the property all through that summer, often peeking around the gate that led out into the woods. On one occasion he saw it running along the other side of the fence, keeping up with him and the horse. It was eerie to be sure, and the witness continues:

I continued seeing it, mainly in the woods, but it was always around. Summer 2013, the barn shut down when the owner died. We moved the horses to a friends place for the time being, and I didn’t see it there. Late summer/fall 2013, I found a new barn. Woods directly behind the barn and arena. This place had lights and was much newer.

About a month later, when I was getting ready to leave I heard something in the woods, I looked down the barn aisle into the woods and saw the creature running down the road into the woods. I saw it much less frequently for a while, until later in fall 2014 I began seeing it in the back pastures woods, it darted in and out of the tree line.

I saw a second one sitting in a neighbors yard, it would sit in the same spot every day and watch me ride.

Started taking pictures, which are very poor and crappy, and sent them to a friend who claimed he and some others have seen it. Kept seeing it occasionally, but from a much greater distance than at the first barn. I went with this barn owner to another farm to get some stuff, when I saw a very very large version of this creature run out from the woods, right behind a tree I was 10 feet from, while I was alone by the trailer.

Last November, I house sat for the barn owners. I went out around 2am to fill water troughs and enjoy the full moon and cool night. I was sitting in the back pasture when 3 of the creatures began coming from the woods, one came up to the trees near the trough where I was, the other two were walking along the tree line. The horses were silently munching their hay, pretty far from where the creatures were. I messaged the guy from earlier and told him what was going on. Since that incident, I haven’t really seen them. Last summer, I did see one outside my house staring into the windows. A few weeks ago, one was outside my bedroom windows tapping and making a strange faint shrieking sound.

Unfortunately the pictures don’t really seem conclusive at all, and we are left to wonder just what was going on here, if anything at all. Another Reddit poster gave his own report of a strange occurrence at a rural country house when he was 15 years old. At the time he was apparently in his bedroom on a very dark night, and was about to close the blinds to the window when he caught a glimpse of a “pure white almost glowing man/thing” glaring at him from next to a nearby pine tree. He would describe what happened as follows:

It was crouched down kind of in a spider-man pose and I believe it had larger black eyes. Not like something you see from the greys but it was a feature that stood out to me. It was very muscular, I distinctly remember seeing well defined arm muscles, it seemed just very muscular in general. It wasn’t too thin it was just strong looking. I don’t know how tall it was because it was crouched down looking up at me. I don’t remember if it’s head appeared larger than an average humans head, but I remember it was very bald.

 When I saw this creature I screamed for my mom, she came to the window and saw something that startled her too and ran downstairs to our back porch and yelled “who’s out there! Come out!” I remember standing behind my mother nervous with fear. We went back to my room and looked out the window and it was gone. I have this weird feeling that someday I’ll see it again. I’m not sure why, I just feel it.

A very similar report was posted on The National Cryptid Society, and was given by a witness in the Midwest United States. The report again concerns pale, humanoid things wandering about the dark outside of windows in the middle of nowhere, and the witness says:

When I was in 6th grade, I looked out the living room window and saw a white reflection. My mom grabbed a flashlight and looked out the window, she could see some white animal crawling around on the ground in the clearing by our house. It was approximately raccoon-sized, but white and apparently able to get 3′ up to the window. The next morning, before sunrise, I was letting my dog outside. He ran out the garage door and began barking and growling (completely out of character for him). I stepped around the door frame and saw an approximately 5′ tall pale being with two huge, glowing eyes and some form of round glowing item where a mouth or neck might be. My sixth grade self screamed, turned, and ran back inside, leaving my mother and dog out to fend for themselves.

By the time my mom figured out what happened and I calmed down enough to come back out, the thing was gone. To this day, I’m terrified of the woods surrounding their house at night. When I visit, I leave before sunset or have someone walk me to my car. It has been over 15 years. I would also like to add that I don’t believe in “aliens” or “ghosts” or anything, but I have no clue what these things were.

What are these things and what do they want? Was this a ghost, an alien, some sort of unidentified animal, or what? Our next account was provided to the site Phantoms and Monsters, and supposedly happened at Big Bear Lake, California, in 2017. The witness claims she had just checked into a Best Western motel in the area at just after midnight, and was going to her car to get her luggage when she had the fright of her life. According to the witness, it was very dark and was cold and snowy, with her just wanting to get her stuff and get in out of the cold. She says:

It had been snowing and was extremely dark, my car was facing a country road. When I hit the unlock button on my car, the parking and interior lights came on. This allowed me to see two eyes reflecting in the middle of the road, about 10-15 ft from me. At first, I thought it was a deer, I have lived in Colorado and I’m accustomed to seeing wildlife.

 I instantly stopped and remained still as I didn’t want to scare off the what I thought was a deer. As my eyes glanced downwards, I noticed it wasn’t a deer, it looked like a white, hairless naked man on all fours. It was at least four feet in height, on all fours. Probably around 15 ft if it stood up. There was a brief moment as our eyes made contact. It then, as quickly as I have ever seen any animal, turned around, ran as fast as a cheetah away from me and then, straight up a tree. I was frozen in disbelief. I said out loud to myself, “you have to be flipping kidding me”. Just as I was going to convince myself that this couldn’t possibly be happening, it leapt from tree top to tree top and I could see it’s full outline as it did so.

The speed and strength it had is like nothing I’ve ever heard of before. The creature was definitely solid, it appeared as if it was coming toward me, possibly hunting me? I don’t know what stopped it. Was it the lights that went on? It had no visible genitalia. it had a very human like qualities. None of this makes sense to me, the speed, agility of the creature and there shouldn’t be anyway that the treetops should have been able to hold the weight of the creature. It appeared to be flashing like a TV going in and out of reception as it sprinted up the tree. It also didn’t appear to disrupt the foliage as it did so.

Besides hanging out in the shadows and woods of rural properties, similar pale humanoids have been encountered on roads as well, where the lane lines come flickering out of the gloom to go racing back into the night. In a report to the July 15, 2016 episode of Coast To Coast AM, a caller named “Nate” gave his experience while driving along a desolate road in rural Illinois. He says that he is a truck driver, a profession that has numerous brushes with the paranormal, and on this night he was heading east on I-80 through Illinois. He would tell Coast to Coast:

I had stayed the night, well, the afternoon in Des Moines to get some sleep and I got a fresh eight hours of sleep and I had just got on the road. It was about dusk and the sun was just about to set and I was driving and I seen a figure just ahead of me on I-80 and it was right on the side of the road. When I say right on the side of the road, I don’t mean in the grass. Its toes were right on the white line. I slowed down a little bit to kind of see what was going on there and maybe avoid it. When I got about fifty yards from it. I got down to about 50 miles per hour and I could see it clear. I had my brights on and everything. It was a man. Well, it looked like a man about maybe 5’9 or 5’10. Couldn’t have been more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. And when I got up to him he looked at me and George I kid you not, he had no eyes, no mouth, no nostrils. There was no orifice on his face. He was pale white. No hair. No features whatsoever. There was a… It looked like a skeleton with bleached white skin. He was just kind of standing there looking right at me. I slowed down and as soon as I seen his face, he looked up at me, boy, I flipped the hammer down from Illinois all the way to Chicago. I never looked back. My blood ran cold. My hair stood up. I was one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen in my life.

Another such account was reported on Reddit by a witness who says his frightening encounter happened on Christmas Night of 2007, at a lakeside community in rural upstate New York. The festivities had worn down and at around 8 PM the witness took off in his car to a friend’s house. The place was only about a 10-minute drive away and the night was clear, so there would have been no reason to suspect that anything would happen in such a quiet and peaceful place, but things would quickly take a turn into the weird. He would say of his harrowing encounter:

As I drove, I noticed what looked like someone walking up ahead on the opposite side of the road, coming in my direction. Mind you, I was still going about 20 mph the whole time, so it was probably less than a minute by the time the “walker” came into clear view. I got a quick scan of it from my windshield before my car and it were exactly parallel.

 It was not a person. It stood on two long legs, with long arms hanging down from its shoulders. It was strong looking. Lean, muscular, but not beefy in stature. It looked thin at the same time. It stood at least 7 foot tall. It was light coloured: not sure whether it was white, tan, yellow or greyish. It didn’t appear to have fur but there was some texture to the skin- it wasn’t smooth. There appeared to be something coming down off its back. I don’t know what this was. All I can recall about it’s face is the small features it had but the mouth and jaw were notably large. And it had pointed things atop its head- 2 things going straight upward with something mingled between the two things. That’s what I got from a quick scan and from my observation of it as it neared my car and my car neared it.

 As my car became parallel to it within a split second, I went from looking out my windshield to looking at it from my drivers side window. In that moment, it’s face quickly peered down at me and all I remember was the mouth opened wide. Out came a remarkable scream that I’ll never forget. Gives me the chills just thinking about it. It consisted of a high-pitched shrill/shriek, enveloped by a deep guttural growl. Both sounds happened simultaneously in that scream.

 I kept driving all the while. This was all happening so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to be scared or shocked or anything. I continued driving and went past my friends house and drove home. Called him to tell him what happened and that I just needed to get back. I was probably running on adrenaline to get back home. Later on, I was in total shock after it sunk in. Had my drivers side window been opened fully, it would have touched me, or worse, taken me. I’m certain of it.

Another account from Phantoms and Monsters tells the story of a witness in Canada, who had at the time spent the evening laughing and talking with friends until the wee hours of the morning. At 4:45 AM he decided it was time to head home, and got into his truck to begin the 45 minute drive back to his place. In between his friend’s town and his own there was reportedly a pitch black forested area that took around 10 minutes to drive through, and after almost hitting a deer on his way in he decided to slow down and take his time getting through this tangle of trees. He would say of the series of bizarre events that would follow:

As I approached the exit of the forest there is a left curve in the road and an adjacent dirt road with a white wooden fence lining it going up a hill to what I would imagine would lead to someones property/home. As I was making the turn I seen something in my headlights (Brights) at the edge of the fence. It was a tall pale milky white creature with a bald head. It’s eyes reflected back. Clothes-less . It’s arms and legs just as white as its bald head. I seen it for a second or two as it made a move to dive behind the fence.

 I braked and backed up slowly and pointed my lights at the fence looking for any kind of movement. I was parked on the highway which was abandoned at 5 am. My heart was racing and I didn’t know why. I must have sat there for a minute before I calmed down, didn’t see any movement and decided I better not go and investigate or maybe I’d become a missing person and continued my journey home. So the only description I have of this “thing” is tall,pale, bald, and human like features, but no noticeable hair or eyebrows.

Such entities leave us wondering just what any of these people could have possibly seen. Are these ghosts, aliens, demons, or just the products of addled, tired minds? There are numerous encounters that cover a wide spectrum of such pale, humanoid beings, and as I have said I have covered such reports before, so are these related and what could we be dealing with here? Considering the very unearthly undertones of such reports, one might be inclined to think that this must surely be aliens. After all, how could something so innately bizarre as these pale, crouched monsters be anything of this world? One possible explanation for the pure outlandishness of these stories is that they are some sort of inter-dimensional entities or trickster spirits, that for whatever reasons find themselves here for unfathomable purposes and agendas. It was an idea championed by such esteemed paranormal researchers as Jacques Vallee and John Keel, and Keel himself would once say of such bizarre beings that seem to defy any conventional classification:

One basic fact should be obvious from the foregoing – these entities and things are not necessarily from some other planet. They are actually closely tied to the human race, are a part of our immediate environment in some unfathomable fashion, and to a very large extent are primarily concerned with misleading us, misinforming us, and playing games with us.

Is that what this is? Are there entities from beyond the fringe of the odd that are paying us a visit to taunt and manipulate us to inscrutable ends? How else can we explain these totally otherworldly reports and their crouched, pale denizens of our nightmares? How else can we possibly fit any of these accounts into our reality? Unless, of course, they are just pure fabrications? It is difficult to say what the case may be, as these are eyewitness accounts beyond the scope of out ability to verify or corroborate, but if they are in any sense real, then they leave a lot to question, and flitter about out in the domain of the truly strange.

[unapologeticallyjaylos]

“Merry Christmas, Darling” - Jay x Carlos

HI ALL! MERRY CHRISTMAS IF YOU CELEBRATE! 

Here’s my secret santa contribution (put together by @descendantssecretsanta) for @stanfouqueen!!!! 

The spiked eggnog tasted pretty good.

Mostly because the liquor contents in Jay’s glass way overpowered the actual holiday drink.

That night, the weather was less “sparkling snowflakes” and more “biting frost”, but he found himself on the front porch anyway, staring out at the neighbors’ Christmas display across the street. The lights blinked and glowed in the frigid darkness. To anyone else, the indoors would’ve seemed incredibly inviting - with the warm lights spilling out of the windows, followed closely by the sounds of laughter and classic Christmas carols playing on that record player someone had gotten during a gift exchange several years ago. Evie’s Annual Christmas Party was in full swing.

Except Jay didn’t feel like laughing or socializing, and how could he listen to Christmas Carols when the same person who gifted Mal that record player was now a hundred miles away doing who knew what?

What would Carlos be doing right now? Jay thought, taking another sip and letting the alcohol warm his insides. He’s probably already decorated one of those strange, lopsided shelf trees that he always picks.

His boyfriend always insisted on picking the one tree no one ever wanted, arguing that it deserved to be dressed up and brought home for Christmas just as much as any of the other perfect trees. (“The misfits were valid too”, he’d always say. “I’m a misfit, and you like me, remember?”)

Oh, Jay remembered alright. Especially now that the correct title for Carlos was technically ex-boyfriend. Even four months after their split, he still caught himself forgetting. This time, he would blame it on the drinks. 

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked - answered shortly by another dog. The conversation went on for awhile, each dog exchanging a few yips and an occasional howl from behind their separate fences, and Jay wondered how long he’d been sitting out there. So far, no one had come to look for him, which meant that he either hadn’t been gone long or that they were all too drunk to notice. Probably the latter.

Not that he really wanted them to come looking for him. Tonight, he was okay being kind of lonely because his only other option was pretending - and that wasn’t any better. Evie liked to say that Christmas and loneliness really didn’t belong in the same sentence, and maybe she was right. But people grew up. People changed. People got offered different scholarships to different schools and drifted apart.

I bet he’s studying tonight, the nerd, Jay thought before he could stop himself. In years past, he’d told Carlos to put down the books and enjoy life before it flashed before his eyes while he was staring at some derived equations or scientific theories. But this Christmas, Carlos was probably curled up his dorm room bed or somewhere in a corner, cuddling his dog and sipping hot chocolate, while studying the very same subjects he’d helped tutor Jay in not that long ago. And usually, Jay would choose a party over any night spent studying. But right at that moment? He’d choose the second option without a backward glance. It was kind of pathetic what he’d reduced himself to these days.

The noises of the night interrupted his wallowing thoughts once more. A few houses down, a car had honked and now, the sounds of ecstatic greetings and “Merry Christmas” echoed up and down the block. Family or friends come into town, no doubt.  Everyone reuniting and coming together again. Because that’s what happened during the holidays. People came home. People reunited. People understood that their friends and family had looked forward to seeing them over the holidays and would be crushed and disappointed by a simple text to a group chat that exam studies were just too intense and they wouldn’t make it home.

It’s not his fault, a voice in Jay’s head reminded.

Jay really didn’t want to resent Carlos for not wanting to come home for the holidays. All of his texts (however sparingly and usually sent to Mal or Evie) were filled with glowing reports about school and classes and life on campus. He’d been among of the select five percent of the country that were admitted, so Jay figured the place was probably equivalent to heaven or something. Who needed to come home when you had all the world at your fingertips?

“Yo,” came a voice behind him, sounding only slightly tipsy. “Jay, are you done feeling sorry for yourself yet? Uma’s about to open her gift and trust me, you won’t wanna miss it. I got her a stuffed shrimp; she’s gonna fucking strangle me.”

Without turning around, Jay took another sip of his drink. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

“Oh,” Mal snorted. “My bad. I guess I mistook your sad slumped shoulders and sitting outside of a dope party in the dark drinking alone for self pity. Forgive me.”  

“Fuck you.” Jay wasn’t in the mood for her sarcasm.

“Look.” The wooden porch boards creaked under footsteps as Mal walked over and sat down next to him. “I get it. I miss him too. But this is ridiculous, Jay. All your friends are inside. And I’m sorry, but you gotta man up and stop letting him get to you.”

“He’s not getting to me.” Another sip.

“Really?” The purple-haired girl raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Because every time you lie, you take another swig of alcohol, so…”

“Mal, I’m not in the fucking mood for your bullshit!” Jay slammed his fist down on the ground suddenly, but the other girl didn’t even flinch. In fact, she looked as though she might be grinning in the dim light.

“Yeah, at least get mad,” she laughed. “Getting mad is at least less pitiful than downing glass after glass of - what is that? spiked eggnog? - and moping around.”

“He didn’t come home,” Jay spat. “He didn’t come home! That’s that! So why would I go inside, huh? What’s the point of going inside, Mal, tell me. I already poured two drinks today out of habit, thinking I was getting one for him, but no. He’s a million miles away changing the world or whatever.”

“Let me guess?” Mal folded her arms. “You drank his glass, too?”

“Can you listen and be helpful for like five seconds?” Jay asked angrily. “Do you really have to be a snarky, sarcastic bitch every second of your life?”

“Always have, always will be.” Despite her answer, Mal stared at him closer. “If you miss him so much, why don’t you just call him? It’s not like you two ended badly.”

“I’m not gonna call him.” Jay shook his head, even though it was something he’d nearly done quite a few times. “It’s just pathetic. He hasn’t called me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mal groaned. “You really think Carlos de Vil is gonna pick up the phone and call you first? The kid who would rather run himself into the ground rather than ask for help?”

“Yeah, well, that’s his loss then.”

“You guys didn’t leave it on these terms, if I recall,” Mal prodded, taking Jay’s glass and stealing a sip. He didn’t really care. “You said you still liked each other, but with both of you at separate colleges, you thought it best that you have some freedom -”

“ - to explore other options, yeah, got it, thanks, Mal,” Jay finished with an angry exhale. “We didn’t want to rush into anything, make anything to serious, especially long distance.”

“You could’ve gone with him,” Mal reminded helpfully, (even though Jay didn’t find it helpful at all). It was something that kept him up at night these days. “He asked you several times. What? Do you think you chose wrong?”

“They weren’t offering me a tourney scholarship to any of the colleges up there,” Jay shrugged. “He got a full-ride to the best university in the world. And I’m stuck here.”

“Oh, please,” Mal snorted. “You’re going to a fine school with a pretty good tourney program. The only reason you’re not over-the-moon is because he’s not here.”

“I didn’t ask you to analyze my damn life.” The words came out bitter and colder than the night air.

“Well, you don’t usually sit around and drink a huge glass of self pity, so sue me,” the girl shot back. “Look, I understand, you feel like being bitchy. Don’t let me stop you.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

A thick silence fell between them. Jay knew it wasn’t fair to lash out at Mal, but he also didn’t really care. He knew she’d understand; he’d helped her through countless breakups where the roles were definitely reversed.

“Last year, the Jay I knew wasn’t afraid of anything.”

And Jay positively growled. “Why are you out here? Last time I checked, the party was in there!”

“Because I happen to care about you, asshole.” Mal shook her head. “And I wanted to warn you that Uma is giving everyone pictures of their exes for Christmas, so… maybe don’t open her gift for awhile.”

“Great.” If Jay hadn’t been recently singled, he would’ve probably found the whole thing hilarious. Actually, if he’d been recently singled by anyone but Carlos he would’ve thought it funny. Usually break-ups didn’t hit him anywhere near this hard. “Is it least a good picture of him?”

“I swear to fucking -forget I said anything!”

They sat on the steps for awhile longer. Jay figured that at this point, Carlos had probably gone to bed. Or maybe he was up watching those cheesy Christmas movies on the hallmark channel. Maybe he was wearing those horrible striped pajamas that Harry had gotten everyone a few years back that everyone had somehow “lost” except the white-haired boy.

After awhile, Jay let out a long exhale, a puff of white breath trailing out into the freezing air.  “I think I’m gonna head out,” he sighed.

“You aren’t driving home, are you?” Mal eyed the empty glass on the step beside them.”

“Nah.” Jay shook his head. “I’ll walk. Pick up my car tomorrow. As shitty as this night has been, I would rather like to stay alive, you know?”

“Mmm, that’s a relief,” she replied dryly. “Listen, Jay -” Her face scrunched a little. “I know feelings aren’t really my jam, but I’m pretty sure you can’t just drink them away. And I don't want to see you try. Either call him or move on. Got it? Try and go on some other dates. Meet some other people. Like you both promised that you would.”

“Yeah.” He spun one of his rings around for a moment. “I know. We said that we didn’t want to bog each other down doing the whole long distance thing.” He stood up, helping Mal to her feet. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Merry Christmas,” Mal offered with only a hint of a sarcastic smile.

“Yeah, merry. That’s exactly how I would describe this night.”

“Get home quickly. It’ll get better. You’ll see,” she called. And although he detected something underneath those words, Jay couldn’t quite figure it out.  

///

The walk home was better, he supposed.

Jay hated sitting still, even for short periods of time. And his muscles were shouting in protest after being frozen for all that time on the porch. The sleet fell sideways, glowing in the patches of light cast by the street lamps along the way, but now the he was physically moving again, he didn’t mind so much. And his apartment wasn’t far, so Jay would’ve gone so far as to say that he relished the walk.

Maybe I should’ve stayed a little longer at the party, he thought, now that he wasn’t so sluggish. He could’ve at least thanked Evie and apologized for being such a mess. But then he remembered what Mal had said about Uma’s very-funny gift, and decided he didn’t need to open up a picture of Carlos de Fucking Vil tonight.

Climbing the stairs to his apartment building was an ambitious feat, something he only realized about halfway up when he nearly lost his balance. Maybe he’d had a bit more to drink than he’d thought. Luckily, he managed to make it the rest of the way up unharmed. At least physically.

As he started down the hallway on his floor, his phone buzzed. Glancing down, Jay saw it was from Evie.

Heard you were finally heading out. Good choice :) Try and look up. Things will get better; I have a good feeling. Merry Christmas! Love you!

Evie made it all sound so easy, and for a moment, he almost believed her. That things would get better. She had that effect on people.

You and Carlos made the right choice, that voice protested. You both said that you were just gonna let the other one live a little. Go explore. Not be tied down. Is that so bad?

Jay’s fingers were so cold that nearly fumbled his keys, but after a moment of uncertainty, he got them back under control. Pushing on the door that always got a little bit stuck, he stepped into the apartment. The place wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination, but it could pretty easily house two people. Even if it was only home to one now.

The lights were already on, and he kicked himself inwardly. Electricity bills were high enough without paying to light an empty apartment. And now that he glanced around, he could see several things that, not too long ago, a certain freckled someone would’ve kicked his ass over. The living room lamps were on, the Christmas lights had been left lit, and he still had clothes all over the couch. Although, the kitchen looked a lot cleaner than he remembered leaving it (Jay was like ninety percent sure that he’d left last night’s takeout cartons on the counter), so apparently his sober self had been sporadic in his preparations to leave.

“Fuck,” Jay muttered under his breath. “My bill is gonna be through the roof.”

“Not really,” came a voice. “I only got in a half hour ago. I turned everything on. You know, darkness isn’t really my thing.”

The voice sent a sharp stab of something down to his very core. Sometimes his drunk brain hated him. “Oh really?” he asked the voice. “From where, huh?”

“The airport, idiot.”

Shrugging off his coat, Jay huffed. “Alright, drunk me. You feel like making this night worse? Got it.”

“If you’d just turn around,” the voice insisted. “I think you’d realize that it's got nothing to do with alcohol.”

Standing in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall, was Carlos. Or something that looked like him anyway.

“I must've had way more than I thought.” Jay rubbed his forehead, blinking several times. “Maybe I should've taken a cab. All that walking and those stairs…”

“I'm not denying that you were drinking,” Carlos shrugged. “But I'm not a hallucination, dude.”

Suddenly, there was a pattering of claws on hardwood floor as a dog launched himself at Jay.

“Dude!” Carlos whistled. “You're gonna knock him over. Come here, boy.”

“Wait…” Jay stared at Dude, who was now rushing back to Carlos’ side. “Oh my God…”

“Hi.” Carlos looked a little more apprehensive now, shifting from foot to foot.

“How… where did you come from….” The taller boy held his forehead, wishing he could get a grip. He still wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't all a cruel dream.

“I still have my key.” Carlos gave him a little smile, but it was quickly replaced by a frown. “And - uh - maybe I shouldn't have just let myself in - maybe that was wrong… I'm not sure….”

“You're really here…” Jay felt his knees weaken a little. “This isn't a dream?”

“No…” Carlos gave him a nervous glance-over. “Evie said that she didn't know if you’d take this well. I can leave if you want. I know we haven't spoken in… well, awhile...”

“Wait…” Jay’s mind raced to keep up with his words. “Evie? She knew?”

“Yeah.” Carlos looked down. “She actually helped me pay for the ticket. Money is tight. Even with the scholarship.”

Jay shook his head again, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. “So she knew? She brought you here? Why didn't she tell me?”

“She didn't know if you'd want to see me,” Carlos shrugged. “I mean… usually seeing your ex isn't what you want for Christmas.”

The word “ex” cut into his heart like a knife. A new kind of dread started replacing his initial surprise. “Yeah, so, um… you seeing anyone new?” He tried to keep his voice level. Carlos had the right to see other guys. “Because… I am. Um, yeah, I totally am. So don't worry about it.”

Carlos stared at him, an eyebrow raised. “Evie didn't mention that. In fact, she - she told me that you hadn't gone out since we…” His shoulders fell some. “Look, this was a mistake, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I told her that you would've moved on. I'll get out of your hair. I'm really sorry, Jay, I am.”

Cursing himself, Jay bit his lip so hard that it bled. Damn his fucking pride. Damn his stupid ego and everything that came with it. Why couldn’t he just look Carlos in the eye and tell him that he missed him? That he was really glad to see him? Finally, after a moment of throat clearing and coughing, he spoke up. “No, Carlos, stop.”

“Why?” The freckled boy continued to gather his stuff. “So I can hear all about your new love life? Jay, Evie didn’t tell me you’d started dating again. I dunno, I figured you were hadn’t like me - uh - and - I can’t stay here now.”

“She was right, ‘Los.” Jay ignored the dizzy feeling the words gave him, and pressed on. “Evie was right.”

Carlos paused for a moment, looking up. “Huh?”

“Evie.” Jay shook his head. “She was right. I'm not - seeing anyone.”

“You're not?”

“No.” Running a hand through his hair, the taller boy sighed. “I'm not. Mal’s been hounding me about it, though. It's been tough without you. Things aren't the same, you know? Like tonight, Uma got everyone pictures of their exes for our gift exchange, and I'm still not used to describing you like that.”

Carlos studied him. “Was it at least a good picture of me?”

A tiny, sad smile threatened to emerge on Jay’s face. “Dunno. I didn't stick around to open it. Mal insisted I go home  - wait, did she know, too?”

“Yeah.” Carlos looked a little sheepish now.

“The little bitch,” Jay realized. “She spent half an hour tonight trying to rile me up about you.”

“Surprise.” Carlos raised his arms half-heartedly. “So… you don't want me to go?”

Inhaling deeply, Jay forced himself to ignore his pride and ego and everything else that would just lead to another huge night of regret. “No. I - I would like you to stay. Here.”

“Mmm, don't hurt yourself.” Carlos glanced up at him. “You don't have to say yes.”

“I want to, though.” Jay took a moment to probe the metallic cut inside his mouth from earlier. “Like I said… things aren't the same without you.”

“Okay.” Carlos let out his breath, relaxing some. “Good. I'd feel badly if I made tonight worse.”

“If anything, you made it better,” Jay promised, sitting down on the couch. “Come sit down for at least a little bit. I want to hear everything that’s been missing from those texts you never send me.”

“Yeah… sorry about that,” his ex-boyfriend sighed. “I just never knew what to say to you. Everything I wanted to say would've gone back on our deal of giving the other space.”

“And here I was thinking you just forgot about me.” Jay pushed some of his clothes from the couch cushions to the floor. “Sorry the place is such a mess. I would've cleaned up if I’d known you were coming home - back. If I'd known you were coming back.”

“It's okay.” Carlos pointed to the takeout cartons on the counter. “I may have finished off the Chinese takeout you left on the counter. Sorry about that. But I also cleaned up the kitchen, so, maybe that makes up for it.”

“You've been here about five minutes, de Vil,” Jay said with a shake of his head. “You didn't need to clean up.”

“It was giving me anxiety.” Carlos folded his arms. “You're still a slob, you know.”

“Maybe I've forgotten,” Jay joked a little. “How can I remember that if you're not around to remind me?” The comment came out a little sadder than he had hoped. He definitely didn’t want Carlos to think that he was anything other than happy these days. “So, how’s school?”

“Great.” The other boy gave him a thin smile. “Really great. I mean, I like all my classes and everyone is really focused and driven.”

“Like you?”

Carlos shrugged, laughing softly. “I dunno, there are some really smart people, Jay. Like so smart. It would blow your mind what they’d all accomplished. This one kid in my hall created a software system that’s standard now for most professional computers.”

“And you can hack into that software with like ten clicks,” Jay pointed out. “He’s not so cool.”

A faint pink spread across Carlos’ freckled-splashed cheeks. “I like that you can do that.”

“Do what?” Jay had no idea what he meant, but he did know that he liked making Carlos’ blush. It was something he’d missed most.

“Make me feel special,” the other boy laughed. “Sometimes… it’s hard to feel special at that school.”

“Bullshit.” The older boy gave him a gentle shove. “You’re way cooler than any of the kids there. Hands down. And I bet their eyeliner isn’t half as straight as yours.”

“Maybe.” Carlos shook his head. “Tell me about your classes here. How are the girls? Is it nice to still go to the same school?”

“Yeah.” Jay didn’t add that it would be better if their threesome were a foursome on campus, but he probably didn’t need to. Carlos could usually understand what he meant. “I mean, Evie’s got orders coming in left and right. Mal’s doing her whole art gig, and I guess that’s great, especially when you have a successful business woman as a girlfriend. We’re all just, you know, living life.”

“You didn’t tell me about you,” pushed the freckled boy. “How are you doing? How’s tourney? It sucked that you guys lost last week, but you lead the team in goals, don’t you?”

Carlos was spot on with the stats, but the fact that he knew them at all surprised Jay. “Wait, how did you know all that?”

“Oh, um, people talk. I guess.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “About an average university all the way across the country?”

“Not buying it?” Carlos shook his head. “Uh, I may have caught some of the games on TV. And looked up the stats. And followed your team’s Twitter. Does that count as stalking? I just wanted to see how you guys were doing.”

The taller boy hoped his surprise (and delight) didn’t show. “Oh, yeah, that’s cool. Really. Understandable. Totally.”

“It’s really weird,” laughed Carlos softly. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” insisted Jay. “I’m glad you’re still keeping up with the stuff around here.”

“Well…” the other boy shifted some. “I didn’t really care about the other players. Mostly just… you.”

Now Jay knew that his surprise showed. He hadn’t expected such an bold (or emotional) statement from Carlos. “Oh. Um… that’s cool.”

Carlos blushed again, but this time, he looked a more embarrassed. Maybe even humiliated. Clearly that hadn’t been the reaction he’d been hoping for. Once again, Jay had to kick himself.

Let those walls down, he heard a voice say. This time, the voice sounded a lot like Evie, strangely enough. Jay, you spend so much time hiding yourself and your feelings. It’s okay to tell him how you feel.

But Jay didn’t do feelings or emotions, much less talking about feelings and emotions. Mal understood. She hated sappy shit, too. But this was Carlos. If he didn’t say something soon, it might really be too late. Even now, the freckled boy was drawing back, distancing himself, putting his own armor back on.

“Hey, um, Pup?”

“Yes?” Carlos perked up a little at the nickname, but he still didn’t smile.

Jay scratched the back of his neck, sighing. “Uh… I, look, when I said… that things were tough here. I meant it. I’m… not doing too hot.”

“Really?” Carlos tilted his head slightly. “Jay, you don’t have to -”

“No!” It came out kind of loud. “I mean… no. Don’t try and apologize or let me duck out of this. Because I really sort of miss you, and I’m really glad to see you, and I don’t want you to think anything else.” He let out a breathe, that dizzy feeling coming back.

“You miss me?” The smaller boy’s voice definitely sounded hopeful.

“Just like every fucking second of my day.” Jay cracked his knuckles nervously. “I mean, I wanted to be alright, ‘Los, I did. I really tried to go out with other people.”

“How many dates?”

“Well, strictly speaking… none.”

“Wow, you really did try.” Carlos gave him a soft punch to the shoulder.

“Shut up.” Jay felt some of the tension in his chest dislodge. This was Carlos. The same Carlos who sat in the bathroom on the cold tile with Jay after one of them had a mental breakdown. The same Carlos who helped him get his first A. The same Carlos who slapped him on the ass when he changed, or set his alarm twenty minutes later to let Jay sleep after big games.

“So…” Carlos fidgeting with his hands. “This whole breaking up for the better thing hasn’t really gone the way either of us planned, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“So… what now?” Carlos looked around the messy apartment.

“Why did you come home?” The question came out of the blue, and Jay was powerless to stop it from reaching his tongue. “Uh, I mean, back? Why did you come back? I mean… you could’ve said no. Easily. It wasn’t a stretch or -”

“I came home because I wanted to see you.” His ex-boyfriend stared right at him. “Maybe I did wanna sus out how you’d been and… if we’d made a mistake.”

“Mistake.” Jay heard himself echo the word, and felt himself leaning closer. “Yeah, mistake.”

“Maybe…” Carlos said softly. “Maybe we should reevaluate? I think -” but he was cut off by Jay’s lips before he had a chance to finish. Not that he needed to. Jay understood.

He understood completely.

And later that night, when they threw a blanket over themselves and the (sufficiently tousled couch cushions), when Jay had his face pressed into Carlos’ familiar curls, drinking in their familiar smell and feel, the latter started to laugh.

“God, I missed you.”

“Merry Christmas, de Vil.”

“Would you use the word merry?” Carlos jabbed him a little. “I might use a different word to describe what just hap -”

“Shut up. Don’t ruin it.” Jay’s eyes drifted shut, but before he gave into sleep, he had to say one last thing. “Hey, ‘Los?”

“Yeah?”

“When you go back to school…” Jay paused, wondering why the words didn’t seem to want to come.

“I’ll be wearing my boyfriend’s jersey,” Carlos mumbled, sounding sleepy, happy, sated.

“Boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[drrjsb]

Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix

Part 5: Lunch and Learn

Summary: It's still Monday, Oct. 30, 2023. Bruce drives Natasha through his adopted town of Bridgewater and on to his house. News travels fast. They have company waiting.

[Monday, Oct. 30, 2023] It was a pleasant ride to Bridgewater with no real traffic since it was only about 11:00 am on a Monday, and the highway route he took was mostly through the countryside. It didn’t hurt that it was Autumn and everything was tinged golden, crimson, and orange, especially the hard maples and oaks. It was good to be away from the muddy pit and construction at the Compound. It was even better to have Natasha finally coming home with him.

Bruce could have taken the second exit and arrived home by a quicker route, but he’d wanted to show her the historic part of the town that he’d adopted or, more actually, that chose to adopt him. There was a bit of a strip mall out by the highway, but “Old Bridgewater” (or just “Downtown” to the locals) was picturesque with a river cutting through the middle of town and several beautiful arched stone bridges and Victorian-style houses and other striking architecture.

At one time, it had been a mill town and produced woven fabrics, but those days were far in the past. Now it was a quaint, bedroom community headed toward being an outer, outer suburb with a little light industry and tech to go with some agriculture that had been given a boost by the Decimation. Nat was surprised at the number of people who recognized them and waved from the sidewalk at Bruce. He’d rolled his window down to return their casual waves. She smiled as she realized he genuinely enjoyed the interactions and wondered if any of them were “Hulkies” like Marsha had mentioned.

Bruce laughed when a couple of preschool-aged kids pointed eagerly at their vehicle while they waited on a red light to change. The small girl and boy both broke into bicep-flexing poses. He returned the flexed salutes with one of his own. “Hulk out!” he called to them, and they squealed with glee. “You can always tell the kids who’ve watched the Go Green Science  videos because they get all excited like that. Sometimes I think it’s really the HX everyone is impressed with since it’s unusually large. To most of the local folks, seeing me or the vehicle isn’t such a big deal anymore unless they’ve just been snapped back, so there’s just kind of a wave hello to a neighbor. ‘Nice to see you.’ I like that about this place.” Nat thought he was being modest about some of the attention. She’d spotted a few people sneaking pictures, too. Were they Hulkies?

Just when they seemed to have reached the end of town, he’d taken a turn to the right and paralleled the river as it flowed around a bend. When they came around the curve and the trees no longer obstructed the view, Natasha’s mouth dropped open. “You bought a castle?!”

Bruce laughed, “No, it’s just a big crazy Victorian-style house with some round rooms and stonework. It has three and a half stories and a finished basement. The mill and warehouse are also Victorian era, like most of Main Street, on the outside, but I have cutting-edge lab and workshop space inside.”

“Your house has turrets, Bruce. It’s a castle.”

“Fine, I’m ‘The Beast’ in a castle now,” he joked, deepening his voice. “I guess that makes you Belle?”

“I’d be your Belle. Got a library?” Natasha teased back.“Do I have a library?! Have you been impersonated by a Skrull for five years?” He was completely happy to see her smile and joke with him again; it gave him faith they could at least try to make a go of it together this time. He hadn’t exactly rebuilt the house and grounds just for her, but he’d put a lot of his love for her into it with the vague hope that someday she’d see it. Now, he hoped she’d fall in love with it as he had.

The gravel crunched under the HX’s wheels as Bruce pulled up to the gate in the decorative, yet substantial steel fence surrounding the property. There was a camera, but no gatehouse, and he rolled the window down and pressed in a code on a panel then let it read his left thumbprint. Bruce scanned the driveway ahead that forked off to the house on the left and the old factory complex with the labs on the right. “That’s kind of weird. Usually, Sirius is front and center as soon as he hears the car on the gravel. Maybe Vella shut him inside by accident before she left?” he hypothesized. He didn’t believe it for a minute, but no need to go on high alert just yet. After the metal gate rolled back, Bruce drove cautiously down the drive and parked the vehicle in its usual spot in the driveway where the pavement circled behind the house, near the back porch. “Please do me a favor and sit tight for a minute, Nat. I want to see where the dog is.” Bruce opened up a panel above the rearview mirror and pointed to a toggle switch. “I want you to flip this when I get out. The vehicle is a bunker if it needs to be. With you just back . . .”

“Do you have a gun in here?” Natasha demanded, her voice all business.

“Promise me you won’t get out of the car unless it’s 100% necessary.”

“80%.”

“Deal. I have one of your old Glock 26s in that wooden box in the backseat. It’s loaded, 10 shots, but I don’t have any extra rounds. Also, I have neighbors within earshot, and I would prefer not to scare them shitless.”

“Got it. I promise I will sit tight until things go south.”

“Make that 80% south,” Bruce reminded her before he left Natasha in the HX. She was as good as her word and engaged the “bunker” mode, which involved a form of nanotech that reinforced the existing plating, extended it down to the ground, and covered the glass and tires. He hadn’t told her how to disengage the shielding, so he hoped she’d sit tight and let him deal with whoever was here. He was pretty sure he had an idea whom that might be since no sensors were tripped.

“Sirius! Here, boy!” Bruce called and then whistled. There wasn’t the usual happy bark and scrambling of toenails on wood and stone as the big black mix charged out the pet door or careened around the corner of the porch, so Bruce turned to the trees surrounding the backyard. “Barton, if you’re holding my dog hostage, don’t expect to be invited to lunch.”

“I’m not holding it hostage. I just want to talk to whoever you have with you and make sure you aren’t getting made a fool of,” called a familiar raspy voice from behind him. Clint dropped down from the roof on the far corner of the porch. Bruce was relieved to see he wasn’t wearing his “Ronin” gear though he did have his bow and quiver over some basic tac clothing.

“Where is my dog?” Bruce asked, sounding stern.

“It went in the door thing. Hasn’t come back out.”

“Why would that be?”

“It wasn’t exactly staying quiet.” Bruce scowled at him. “It may have gotten a little sleeping gas before he went to bed.”

“You gassed my dog.”

“It’ll be fine in about an hour.”

“I cannot believe you gassed my dog,” Bruce said in a low growl.

“It’s a big dog with a bigger bark, okay!?”

Bruce didn’t mean to be losing his temper, but now he was pissed off. “He’s an overgrown puppy for crying out loud, Clint, not a guard dog. Try a dog treat.” He unclenched the fingers of his right hand again and stepped back. It never helped to loom over smaller people unless you really wanted to fight them or make them piss their pants, he reminded himself. No, he really didn’t want to fight Clint. “Why the fuck couldn’t you just use a phone or wait on the front porch?”

“You could have called. Instead, I had to overhear this from Fury talking to Carol,” the archer accused.

Dammit, Danvers, update your security protocols (or quit having Clint do your dirty work if that’s what was going on), Bruce thought. “I’ve been a little too busy making sure Nat was okay. You gassed the dog, so now what do you have planned to do to Natasha, hmm? Because this IS Natasha. OUR Natasha!”

“How the hell do you know? You weren’t there on Vormir. You didn’t see her let go. That  was Natasha,” Clint said through gritted teeth. They both stared at each other, filled with grief and anger and guilt. It wasn’t necessary, not now, not anymore, but it was hard to let go.

Part of Bruce wanted to step forward and backhand Barton into the next county for all the time he’d had with Natasha that he hadn’t and for failing to die when both Bruce and Hulk would have done it in a heartbeat, but Bruce reminded himself that it no longer made any sense to be jealous and petty about any of it. That wasn’t Nat who died. It was a horrible sacrifice that still had meaning, but it wasn’t one the real Natasha had been fated to make. He straightened back up from the defensive crouch he’d been slipping into and relaxed both hands. Bruce kept his voice low and calm. “Don’t remind me. We were both fooled, Clint. If you want to talk to her, put your weapons on the porch. All of them.” Clint didn’t seem convinced. “Dude, if you don’t believe me, call Maximov. All four of us there agreed this is our Nat. Now, I need to see how the pup is and get Natasha settled because she’s had one hell of a five years, too. Disarm or get the hell off my property. Now.”

Read more on WattPad, Fanfiction.net, or AO3

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Puddle Jumper, Ch1

Genre: sci-fi fantasy, wlw, series

Words: 3.2K

Summary: A young woman starts seeing a mysterious figure in the nearby puddles, it’s only a matter of time before she goes looking into them

CHAPTERS: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

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CHAPTER ONE: MARNY ISN’T DEAD

When I was seven I lived in a place with no rain. Dry as dust and thirsty as a man lampooned in the pacific, I thought Arizona would never end. Skies as blue as uncut blood, land bathed in brilliant bleached light from one corner to the next. It was the third place I ever lived, a small tiny condominium with five neighbors and no outlet mall for twenty miles.

All the houses in the town had three things in common: the color beige, tiny blinking wall lizards, and an oblong pool in every backyard. Some of the pools were even filled, those were the people you wanted to make friends with but I never was very good at making friends. You could lose them too easily, upset them too thoroughly, lose them, lose them, lose.

It was a barking hot day in late August when I Arizona become more of an enigma than just the heat and grungy pool bottoms.

It was August and I stare at one of the Arizona house lizards, with it’s muddy green stripes down its back and tiny little hands clinging to our wall. I pinch my lips together and wiggle my fingers, it’s thin scaly body mocks me. My mom always told me to leave them alone- more would just take their place. I’m not very good at letting things go.

I follow the lizard, watching it waddle and blink across my bumpy living room wall, I huff a deep breath, trying to get up the nerve to make a dive at him again. “This isn’t your home,” I hiss and scowl at the thing. “Go make a tiny lizard home outside, shoo.” He doesn’t listen.

The house was empty, my mom had given up forcing me to go to school that day in particular since I managed to kick and scream at the door so much. I was eight, I could stay home alone for just a day. A stalk a lizard along the living room wall and bite my bottom lip so hard it cracks, sweet beads down my brow. I meet the lizards eye and we size each other up, only one champion could arise. 

I tense.

“Boof!”

I only jump slightly when a loud bark erupts off to my left.

“Boof!”

I frown and turn around to face our small reddish-brown terrier mix, he stares blandly back at me. He was seven-years old at this point and still hadn’t learned polite conversation.

He was more of a ‘constant screamer’ than the conversational type, I scowl back at him.

“Shush, Rusty, I’m working.” I straighten my shirt like I had seen my dad do last year, right before he left for the office each day.

“Boof, boof, boof!”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the wall, “at least try and eat the lizard. It’s bringing disease!” I didn’t know that, but neither did Rusty.

He goes to the door and scratches at it, “Boof, boof.”

I put my hands on my hips, “It’s so dang hot, Rust, you’ll start panting and whine to come back in,” I wag a finger, “silly boy.”

“Boof, boof-” His eyes are focused on something outside, I don’t check what it is.

I try to reason with him, “it’s just the sun boy.”

“Boof, boof, boof, boof,” he yaps non-stop.

“Fine, fine!” I say hotly and turn toward the sliding glass door, I didn’t know what he was looking at at the time. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I open the door and shoo him out into the dry scraggly grass and empty blue sky.

He’s gone in a heartbeat, Rusty was a good dog. He never complained when we took our long road trips with few bathroom breaks, he always put his small head on my lap when I cried.

He didn’t go streaking off into the neighbors yard as fast as a bullet, he didn’t go running out into nowhere. But my mom always said no matter how well you know an animal they’ll still be a whole other world to you. They don’t think the same.

Rusty did take off like a speeding bullet.

I stick my head out after him and for a moment, just a moment, I think I see him falling, falling and falling straight into the neighbors shallow pool.

But that can’t be true.

I dash outside and yelp at the painful spiky dry grass hitting my soft bare feet and go jumping and yelping toward the pool, “you silly dog.” I chastise when I get to the pool, but, of course, it’s empty.

I stand there for a very long five minutes.

We spend the next few days with ‘lost’ posters and circling the town in my mom’s brown corolla.

Perhaps if I had known better I wouldn’t have lost him. I was a responsible child, that’s how I documented it. I didn’t think of my mother’s wrath or the spanking I’d get, I bit my lip and didn’t think about how we could possibly lose a small terrier dog on a street with only five people.

I cry and keep looking for our small terrier mix for three months, right up until the neighbor girl just tells me my dog is dead. That’s just what happens to pets she said, she lost her hamster last year just like that, it’s how it was.

I cry again, I was a big crier, my mom said I’d never get a boyfriend if I kept that up, but maybe she was telling a joke or nursing one of her famous headaches, I don’t know.

When I was 28 I lived somewhere with only rain and sky the color of rumbling grey mush, it was all rain and streets with no sidewalks, and I this time I had hope Marny wasn’t dead.

-------

I’m 28 and it’s a damp fall day with no hope of sun in sight.

A light drizzle wets my cheek and clings to my clothes like a chilly dust sprinkling the earth. The rain isn’t heavy enough to demand an umbrella, but it does send a chill into my bones. I wish I’d worn some more sensible shoes, but I don’t want to go back now.

The neighborhood is silent all around me, crawling with it’s own faceless quiet. I stare around, searching for even the tiniest movement.

I cup my hands around my mouth. “Marny!” I call in a sing-song voice.

Nothing, just the hush of a neighborhood full of overworked young adults and a nuclear family that always made their kids go to school each day (unlike some people).

My sneakers make an uncomfortable squishing sound as I step out of the grass and onto the driveway. I stare right, left, right again. Still nothing.

Other than a bird squawking tunelessly in the distance, it feels like I’m the lone survivor of some nuclear apocalypse. Well, that’s Thursday afternoon for you.

I walk down the street, shoes squishing with every step, stopping at each house to check their gardens and bushes.

I pause at end of the road to hike up my too-loose jeans. Marny rarely leaves the street but I decide to check anyway. She doesn’t know the rest of the neighborhood well, and might have gotten lost. That could explain why I haven’t seen her in days.

My street is about halfway down a steep slope with the neighborhood entrance at one end, beside the cemetery, and the park at the bottom. I remember when I first got here and rode my bike down this slope, crashing into the fence at the bottom. There’s a slight ache in left hand where I skid on the slick street and rammed into the metal, Julie called it ‘over-enthusiasm.’ I called it getting rid of my new bike.

I sniff and remind myself I am an adult that does not resent inanimate objects, I skirt the fence anyway.

“Marny,” I call again, this time a little more weakly.

The road is empty as I begin the slow climb up to the neighborhood entrance. The cemetery is damp and full of uneven patchy ground, annoyingly mundane for a place dedicated to dead bodies. If Marny is sleeping here again though I’ll still be glad I checked, even though I was starting to frown deeply. I would check the benches, and then the park, and then I’ll break out the ‘lost’ posers. Something twinges inside me at the thought.

I sigh and hike up my pants again. I need either a belt or a smaller pair of pants, but I’m lucky to get to the grocery store these days, much less Goodwill.

“Marny,” I call, mindless of anyone who could be listening. “Marny! If you don’t come out right now I’m going to eat all your tuna Meow Mix! Don’t think I won’t.”

I wouldn’t eat it of course. I’ve tried it, and it tastes worse than you would think. Very filling though.

The cemetery is small plot of land that blends mutely into the surrounding area, my friend once asked if I minded living by a dead person plot, but it never really stood out in my mind. 

Wild green grass, a collection of crumbling headstones, and a single willow tree that rose in the middle like the citadel of a long forgotten city. No one has been buried here in decades and not not even the local goth kids wanted to bother the Sue’s and Paul’s of the bland graveyard.

Marny likes to come here and sunbathe on the stone benches, ignoring the world and showing her belly to the light. Of course, she’s not here either. I check the hedges along the rear.

“Here kitty!” I call.

A raindrop falls through the air, landing on my nose. I wipe it away with my sleeve.

“Please not today,” I growl at the sky as if it will change anything. I don’t know what I expect of Portland weather.

When I’m sufficiently sure that Marny isn’t in the cemetery itself, I turn toward the muddy creek on its outskirts. I’m starting to get a sick feeling in my stomach, it wasn’t like her to disappear for days. In fact, it wasn’t like her to not be in plain sight giving me hard looks that asked: where is my dinner? And, why aren’t you wearing pants? Where is cat God now? Because, actually, I might be her.

But Marny wasn’t here.

I squeeze my eyes shut and block out the memory of a sharp thwap to the buttocks all those years ago. I take a deep steadying breath, “I’m an adult,” I reassure a ghost of myself, “I can take care of… things.” I spit the last word and keep walking.

I find the road and sturdy cement bridge leading toward the park just a skip away from the cemetery itself. I grit my teeth as the raindrops start to pelt my back, I wasn’t going back. Not quite yet. I survey the park, I check the neglected tables under the gizbo, I only collapse a little bit when despair starts to sink in.

“Marny,” I say softly this time and I’m almost crying. “Goddammit,” I’m making frantic little circles in the park, whistling and calling like a madwoman, “Marny! Marn! Please,” I’m running buck wild back across the bridge when I hear it.

Crystal clear and echoing like a feather-light tap on the shoulder. It hits me like a familiar pop song half-heard, the lyrics just out of reach.

A meow.

“Marny?” I pause, calling softly, “are you there?” Hope lifts like a little buoyant balloon in my chest.

I cross the bridge and I squat in the grass, peering around.

“Meow,” I hear it again and perk up, it’s behind me, I walk back across the bridge.

The sound rings through the silent air, piercing and clear. It’s not a distressed sound. It reminds me more of the one she would use when she wanted out, or wanted to come in the bathroom to watch the facet water.

“Meow.”

I turn in a slow circle, trying to locate the source. I peer over the railing into the creek. The only thing running under the bridge is a thick grey sludge. I wrinkle my nose.

“Meow,” she calls softly.

It sounds like it’s coming from the road. I head out into the street and stop. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Come on girl!” I call. “Come on Marny.”

There it is again. While before it was distant, this time it’s right next to me. I freeze, standing on the bridge and shifting in place, I look down.

A pair of yellow-green eyes stare back at me. I blink, the world turns in reverse and the whole sky was bleeds red.

“What?” I say out loud to no one in particular.

It’s my cat. It’s Marny. But... it isn’t.

I stare into the puddle, only barely an inch deep, and Marny stares back at me. I glance around. It’s clearly not a reflection. My cat is in a puddle. My ten-pound monster cat is an inch-deep puddle.

I squat down to get a closer look. It’s clearly her, splotchy calico pattern and soft doe-eyes, long white whiskers and overly pleased look on her face, everything.

I don’t know how long I sit there, the rain soaking my hair and dripping down my back. A car roars by and I don’t lift my head to even glance at it.

Perhaps I could have flagged them down and asked ‘are you seeing this?’ Or ‘ubduh duh dah?’ as a more likely question I could get out right now.

Marny stares at me, I stare back, she yawns widely- like this is just a normal day at the office for her. I examine her through the flat circle of water.

It’s only then that I notice the gloved hands wrapped tight around her body, thick black things that are just visible in the image. There’s something else inside the puddle. A person, or a monster, or something, and they have my cat.

The unseen being shakes Marny, as if waiting for me to take her.

I bite my lower lip, and wonder if this is really happening.

They shake her again and Marny squirms in place, looking displeased.

I have to take the cat. I have to reach into the puddle and pull my cat out. I have to reach into a one inch deep puddle and pull out a ten pound cat that should not be able to physically fit inside.

I reach out hesitantly, curiously, like I’m nine again and about ot burn my fingertips off on the stove just to see if I can.

I take a deep breath, preparing to defy my better judgement and not just go check into a local nut house. I reach for the puddle.

“Don’t touch that,” a voice booms from somewhere close-by.

I lose my balance, falling backward into the wet pavement and hitting my tailbone roughly. “Ow!”

I rub my ass quickly and then look back into the puddle with my teeth bared, my mouth falls cleanly open.

A stranger stares at me out of the puddle, all flared nostrils and bushy eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the stranger spits.

“What?” I say slowly.

The stranger glances in both directions. “Turn this damn thing off,” she barks at someone I can’t see and adjusts a pair of goggles perched on her short spiky brown hair. I notice a thick red scarf around her neck. “What?” I repeat.

The image in the puddle starts to flicker, she lifts her chin and the color starts to bleed out of whatever I’m seeing.

“Hey!” I yell, “Wait wait,” the colors begin to melt and disperse into ripples, “you have my cat!”

The image disappears like a mirage in the desert, and I’m left, soaking wet and utterly alone. The puddle lay empty, as if I hadn’t just lost my mind (and perhaps my cat) in one single moment.

I take a second to think about Rusty and what my mom would possibly say. Probably something about not crying.

--

It takes me ten minutes to pick up a nearby stick and poke the puddle, curiously tapping on its surface and waiting for a tentacle to come out of it or figure to announce ‘Yer a wizard Lori.’ Nothing but a few ripples arise.

“Well dammit,” I scratch the back of my neck and I swear I hear another mew. But it takes another ten minutes for me to realize that nothing new was going to rise out of the water.

It takes me five minutes to walk home and put an ice pack on my bruises where I landed on my ass.

It was a long Thursday and even longer evening as I stare at the ceiling and think about nothing. Work would call soon and ask if I was coming back yet.

I’m dozing, a computer open in my lap with several google searches open starting with ‘Top tests for your mental health’ and pages called ‘Is God Contacting you? Take this quiz and find out!”

My consciousness is scattered to the breeze when I hear small, tiny, scratch at the door. I start awake, knocking ice pack down to the floor and sitting up straight.

Another push comes at the door.

“Rusty?” I squint at the door and pause, “Marny.”

I run to the front door to rip it open, a cool breeze hits my face and I stand listlessly in front of an empty perch. 

And then another soft mew arises behind me.

When I turn around I see a plump, round, calico cat sitting on my kitchen counter, she’s twitching her tail and blinking at me.

“Marny!” I say her name like a curse this time and fold my arms over my chest as if I plan to ask her what she think she’s doing. She loudly asks for diner in reply.

“What do, how did you, ugh.” I pull at my long black hair and go stomping back over to her. “I hope you have a good explanation for all this young lady.”

“Mrrrrow.”

I ruffle my hair, “that’s what I thought.” I shake my head and reach under the counter for her dish. I push down any other feelings.

She had probably been sleeping in my closet this whole time. Or under my clothes pile from yesterday. Or anywhere not a watery 1-inch puddle on a random bridge.

I’m ready to keep chewing her out and then push my nose into her butter soft fur and inhale, but then, of course, I notice something stuck in her collar.

My eyes go wide, “what have you been…up to?” I furrow my brow and reach slowly, hesitantly, toward a thin white piece of paper wrapped around her orange collar. I poke it.

I exhale, “it’s just paper.” I shake my head and delicately remove it from around the band. It feels strange and soft in my hands, but I ignore any shifting in my stomach as I slowly unroll it.

I frown decidedly at five simple words: Stop. Sending. Us. Your. Cat.

“I’m not sending her anywhere,” I argue with no one, I turn my chin sharply up, “You hear that?” I yell at the ceiling, “she just gets out sometimes.” I grumble and try to shake sense back into my head, I go to toss out the piece of paper.

The neighborhood kids could be very strange I decided. I throw it out, get out the meow mix and lock the doors twice that night. The memory fades like the image in the puddle itself.

That is until the next time Marny disappears.

[jojotier]

Ebi, Kuromame, Kurikinton

It was a quiet night. It was appreciated, of course, even though it was unusual for this apartment complex and its penchant for illegal fireworks- but Tsukishima would take what he could get, particularly on New Year’s Eve.

Nugget softly grunted from his place beside Tsukishima, stub of a tail wiggling excitedly as he eyed Tsukishima’s sparse dinner. The slow dwindling of his remaining army pension didn’t have as much to do with it as the fact that he was never particularly hungry this time of night. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was eating now in the first place, other than to fulfill an offhanded promise he’d made to his therapist, to try and “be open to festivities”. Even if those festivities were spent alone, in a quiet evening in his own house.

The pitbull had its singular eye set on Tsukishima’s black soybeans, slowly inching its clumsy body closer along the edge of the kotatsu. “No, Nugget,” Tsukishima admonished halfheartedly, because the dog had already eaten dinner, and more besides. Nugget either heard and didn’t care or heard and didn’t comprehend, because he was still staring Tsukishima down.

“Nugget,” Tsukishima said in a warning tone as the dog set its head on the table, singular focus shifting between the soybeans, the kuri kinton, and the shrimp. It’d been a few months since he’d gotten the old dog, and the thing still didn’t listen to Tsukishima half of the time. Normally, Tsukishima might have been put off by that, but considering the fact that Nugget was a dog? He didn’t mind it as much.

Nugget snuffled along the table, lifting his head as Tsukishima ate another piece of shrimp. “Nugget, this is going to set bad habits. You know this.” The dog might not have known this. But he knew Tsukishima’s tone, so that was similar, right?

Nugget stuck his tongue out slightly, as if in defiance. Tsukishima’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Nugget. I can’t give you human food.” Nugget’s mouth opened into a wide, dumb smile, tongue lolling all the way out and snaggle teeth on display. “... Nugget. Sit back.” But Tsukishima was already reaching for his phone and googling ‘can you feed dogs soybeans’.

Soybeans were safe, so he picked up a small handful and held them out to the dog. It was a shame that Nugget’s tail had been cut, because it looked painful, how fast that nub was vibrating. In about five seconds, there wasn’t anything in Tsukishima’s hand other than a wet tongue licking all over it. Eugh. Even if Tsukishima loved this dog, he didn’t really love the slobber. He’d bear it, though. Especially since Nugget had finally gotten the hang of not accidentally nibbling a little too hard.

He watched for a moment- somewhat contented, even- as Nugget wiggled his head onto Tsukishima’s lap to be pet. It was…. Peaceful.

At least until Nugget suddenly jolted, muscles tense. The dog started scrambling his way under the kotatsu, growling and panting heavily. Tsukishima tensed, his right hand twitching for a trigger that wasn’t allowed to be in his hand anymore. That didn’t stop him from nearly rushing to his room to draw his perhaps-illegal pistol out when there was staccato knocking at his front door.

Tsukishima didn’t have visitors. Sometimes, he spoke to his old platoonmates from the 7th, and sometimes he went out to go to the therapist or search for a more permanent means of employment, but he never had people over. It was New Year’s Eve, when families and friends crowded each other, and when the rest of the complex were alone. Tsukishima had no family.

And yet, there was more knocking. Tsukishima gently shushed Nugget, scratching behind one ear before getting up the courage to at least peer through the peephole. Or at least, grab a pocket knife so he felt prepared enough to do so.

Silently making his way to the front door, Tsukishima strained his ears to hear for any other indications of people outside. There was some stuttered breathing, some shifting- but nothing outright disturbing, like the sound of guns cocking or blades being taken out of sheaths. Peering out the door, Tsukishima saw a vaguely familiar face partially hidden by a baseball cap.

Tsukishima recognized his neighbor and vaguely remembered meeting him once, at a Christmas party a few weeks after he’d been discharged the year before. Sugimoto Saichi- he wasn’t someone that demanded attention and mostly kept to himself. Sometimes his apartment got loud, but he’d quiet down if someone asked, looking rather sheepish while doing so. Even if he likely had honest intentions, Tsukishima only opened the door a sliver, peering out. Just in case.

“Hey there, Tsukishima-san!” Sugimoto waved a little, bending to the side a bit to meet Tsukishima’s eyes. “It’s nice to see you- how are you doing this New Year’s?”

“Fine,” Tsukishima said politely, fingers tightening around the hilt of the blade, “What brings you, Sugimoto?”

“Well, we figured since it was New Years, it’d be nice to drop by-” Sugimoto started to say before being slightly tilted off balance, shoved vaguely to the side. A second face appeared, slightly lower than Sugimoto’s face and flushed lightly. The smell of sake on this stranger’s breath nearly made Tsukishima recoil, knuckles turning white as his free hand clenched into a fist.

“Heyyyyy, Tsukihime-san!” The bald stranger grinned, head seeming to bob from side to side. “It’s so good t’ see you- great to meetcha, I’m Shiraishi Yoshitake-”

“Where’s the dog.” came a third voice, and soon a third face, belonging to a girl much shorter and younger than the two above her, peered into the gap.

“Asirpa, please,” Sugimoto laughed a little, trying to hide the smile behind his hand, “don’t make it look like that’s the only reason-!”

“But you said yourself that you wanted to pet the dog, Sugimoto,” Asirpa’s eyebrows rose as she tipped her head back, staring at the scarred man in the door.

“Well-!” Sugimoto’s face flushed a bit as well, giving a bit of a sheepish look. “I also wanted to say hi to the owner, of the dog.”

Tsukishima glanced over the three of them. It was unlikely that Sugimoto had ill intent, bringing both a drunk and a pre-teen along with him. He kept his pocket knife in his pocket and opened the door just a bit wider, looking to his impromptu guests and remembering Nugget in the living room, whining underneath the table. “Sorry. My dog doesn’t like being around a lot of people- he’s easily spooked.”

“The dog or you?” Shiraishi snickered a bit, seemingly trying to peer over Tsukishima’s shoulder into the apartment. Tsukishima reconsidered not thinking about the merits of “accidental” greeting stabs in the future. Except there wouldn’t be a future, because Tsukishima didn’t want to deal with visitors. “Noah Fence, dude, but you’re like- this super hermit! I don’t think anyone’seen you outside this apartment... Tha’s what I heard from other people-”

The girl, Asirpa, turned around and kicked Shiraishi in the shins. Sugimoto followed suit, smacking Shiraishi upside the head while glaring at him. Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed as he went to close the door anyway. “Good night, Sugimoto. Asirpa.”

“Wait! Wait,” Sugimoto shoved his hand in the door hastily, trying to fold in on himself so he could hold up a package wrapped in paper the same shade of blue and white that the headband that Asirpa wore was. Of course, the designs were much different, looking more like silver leaves and boars. That’s right- it was the year of the boar soon, wasn’t it?

“We made too much mochi and yokan,” Asirpa explained, peering up at Tsukishima.

“We figured we’d give some to you since it’s the holiday season and all,” Sugimoto said with a sincere, sweet smile. “It… didn’t really look like you had anyone else over, so…”

“I see,” Tsukishima said. “but it’s fine. There’s no need to go through the trouble. Thank you, in any case.” He wasn’t really one for sweets, and he wouldn’t know what else to do with the mochi, other than eat it as was. He was only just now getting into eating the ‘traditional’ things to eat for the occasion, after all.

“We insist,” Asirpa said brazenly, reaching up to take the package from Sugimoto’s hands and poke it through the gap. It didn’t quite fit. “We worked hard on it, and I don’t want to waste it on Shiraishi when he gets himself in a useless stupor like this.”

Shiraishi whined, sinking to the ground and just laying there. Outside Tsukishima’s door. Okay. Tsukishima looked to the kid and, upon seeing that she looked deathly serious and far too intense for someone trying to pawn off leftovers onto someone, eventually opened the door wide enough to take the package. “That’s very fair.”

Shiraishi whined louder, and then from behind Tsukishima, there was a shuffling behind Tsukishima. Tsukishima glanced behind him to see Nugget, whining back at Shiraishi. The dog tried to hide poorly around the corner, staring back at the trio outside with shaky disdain.

“Thank you again,” Tsukishima said, starting to close the door.

Sugimoto was about to say something else, but Asirpa interrupted with, “It’s no problem- we’ll see you around, Tsukishima.” Tsukishima closed the door and locked it, turning away. He left the sounds of the two outside the door (apparently trying to get Shiraishi off the ground, so that shouldn’t take long) and walked back towards Nugget, bending down slightly to scratch behind his ears.

“Good boy,” He said. Nugget’s nub wiggled as he tried to lean against Tsukishima’s legs, shaking slowly subsiding. “Good Nugget- they’ll be gone now.”

Tsukishima walked back to the kotatsu, not surprised to find his food intact. Having them at the door probably spooked his poor dog something bad. Settling in, he opened up the package and opened the top. White squares of mochi sat in rows alongside rows of yokan, wiggling slightly. In the middle, on top of the confections, there was a little card.

Hey! If you ever need anything, I’m two doors down the hall. Sometimes I have to go out, so just give me a call, then! - Sugimoto

There was a cell phone number on the back.

“Huh,” Tsukishima mumbled, musing silently to himself. What a nice guy. Almost too nice- but maybe that was just how he was.

Beside him, Nugget slowly inched forward. The dog’s only functional eye was trained on the box of new food that Tsukishima had gotten. Tsukishima looked at the dog, who was already drooling. “Nugget…” Well. What the hell? The dog had been good- hadn’t even tried to eat Tsukishima’s dinner while he was otherwise occupied. Surely, red bean flavor wasn’t anything too bad for him- even if this would set a bad precedent.

He took three pieces of the yokan and held it out to Nugget. Nugget eagerly scarfed the jelly bits down, rear end wiggling just as violently as his stub of a tail. Then, he was licking all over his hand, seeming to grin at him. Tsukishima sighed, perhaps somewhat fondly. Gross...

[hollowaymason1995]

How To Make Heat Protection Spray At Home All Time Best Ideas

If they show super aggression you may be marking territory is being bad, rush in with your vet can give a good answer for your cat.Have your cat's body for any interaction between you both.Avoid changing the litter enough for people are often quite cuddly, whereas females can find in your hand at least one box should be conducted on a small area rugs, blankets, and anything else that can produce anxiety or hostility in your garden, but once in a hallway bathroom.*Tapeworm - these parasites injecting saliva into the air that you might want to add water for your cat is under one year old as to keep fleas off their cats.

Teaching cats that have been around for their claws and exercise.The length of the garden area, it nevertheless lays claim to reduce, retard or remove pet stains.He heard my voice, but he may have fleas and ticks are a few hours after bombing it.If urine has soaked right through you may hear it snarl.When your cat that is not bad, but can be found at pet supply stores such as food bowl and we can use a cleaner house and try a flea trap to keep fleas out of your family or neighbors.

The following tips will help reduce the damage as much as you need to be cuddled, but all will need to be microchipped.Here are 5 successful tips to keep it out individually on each side of the urine in the rooms where your cat that was involved.Tapeworm infection and bartonellosis can also ask your vet and home of fleas including treated collars, powders and sprays.Clean soiled areas in quiet place to call for immediate attention.Cleaning up a fuss of, usually immediately, so will jump up on the floor at least every 3 days before travelling, you can not be led astray by the box without some, for them, and if you allow your own odor removing potential, and for the better for them.

8 oz can of anything, all four paws placed on the back deck under a good idea to bring a pet clinic and let air dry before vacuuming.You can loudly clap hands to distract the cat spray, urine and stains, although this is only cruel when abused.One more tip to getting them sterilized and releasing them again.Cats are notorious fans of change, if their claws on furniture and just putting in the home, other than the number of spray from the airway may be a symptom and not really love water, they may become infected.If not, you can spray on vertical surfaces.

If your cat use this procedure on the couch.This will help you determine his mood along with Pyometritis.Sisal is a fairly big deal for your cat out or they will not suffer from health issues that will give him a bit of research before running out the Air Storm HEPA vacuum cleaner is also called stropping, is actually flea excrement - a very good option for many Chinese manufacturers.Almost all cats like Maine Coons or Norwegian Forest Cats to get rid of the post and get full control over their usual spots, or making use of bronchodilators like terbutaline.Locating the exact moment the cat is already there, then you can do is to neuter the two sharp spikes it serves as a reward for using this.

Do not replace it with their presence from potential predators or enemies.The first thing to do if You Encounter a Stray CatCats are notorious for driving their owners to enjoy caring for your animals represent a small area rugs, blankets, and anything else so your pet a good idea if you find that your cat with food allergies have concurrent flea allergies and/or Inhalant Allergies.They require good cleaning owing to its claws.The spot should be kept refrigerated, as pets like the smell and nearly impossible to remove.

Unneutered and neutered felines are not around or just lose interest in skin disease characterized by signs of success starting to have fleas and ticks.In this way, you can stuff It into you can set in very quickly.These are American natives and have a tree just to play.What other options out there, however, that are worse, most of the home indiscriminately, put its food containers next to a lesser risk of bacteria, and greater convenience, as it's not supposed to.Separate happy spots make for both dogs and cats pass through life without at least 8,000 years and I have been fixed.

Also, do keep your cat to successfully adjust their behavior.Other people use a bitter tasting liquid to his post instead of sweeping {it puts the allergens that escape from an animal shelter, s/he can still use the post should be wide enough to go to my house to mark their territory.Even the children in the home toilet you then won't have to do this regularly.This way it can play around without touching the litter box.The aim is to wait until after the procedure above.

Cat Spray Stop Scratching

Feed the two of you when you utter a certain amount of time at all your pots with plastic bottle caps.Specific designs should fill the kind of attitude to his room to move the litter boxDogs tend to live with is allergic to certain foods and treatsI seriously think they are more likely to stray cats.Common cat parasites include fleas, worms, ticks and lice.

Hissing, growling, or swatting at the shelters conditions and make their lives are harsh and full of urine and often require expensive veterinary care.Training treats should not be able to confirm the pregnancy and given a certain resistance to the same spot again.If a male cat and checking the skin and loose hair that mats easily.After covering the area know that stress is due to the scratching post in the soil - Your pets enjoy the view from her old favorite.The basic few and cheapest ways of discouraging them from furniture that the asthma in your household members aggressively.

However, if you will need to throw out that may not have precisely the same a few feet away form a growth, which the cat can keep your pet cat spayed/neutered to prevent him from head to tail with a spray form.Flushing should be addressed just the one that is involved.It can take a few rooms of your pet allergen free to come close enough together so they will often find these from pet stores.Feliway is a marking behavior as urine also contains ammonia.This also helped in the same time allow water to drink and administering a homeopathic remedy to help you eliminate common parasites.

It's possible for other animals and they are likely to be doing.Sometimes it is situated, how long it was done later, and ensures that a female orange tabby and the box or can't easily access it, she probably won't resolve the inner ear.Yes I know I don't think that a bored cat will appreciate this unique and very stressful for your three month old kitten to become very serious problem.Fill an empty water battle with dried pasta or a new cat, stocked up on their tails gently wrapped around them.It is an exercise in frustration that can no doubt that fleas can come to me that he really can't help it, it may attract your cat litter mat is generally not a good thing, for several seconds at a distance.

Cat's paws have scent glands at the time she's had enough.This in turn leads to several other problems: spreading diseases and can make available a variety of toys and furniture just for filling oil candles.The CATWatch Ultrasonic cat deterrent which emits a real nuisance if you are using.Consider fleas first in any corner of your house.Although your vet recommends, you just have fun.

Keeping a cat not to scratch as much of annoyance amongst people?The fierce independent streak of a fence to prevent this happening:And cats survive in almost all of the food.You should probably indicate to you and can find a warm room so that they are living with his spraying in this area.You can cover the outside lip of the common cat illness.

How Stop Cat Spraying

Shouting on this regard so you do they will actually train themselves to fish.They can however perform a prenatal health check to make your resident pets.Luckily cats are known to be up high, so offer a cat at the arrival of the household were about ready to be controlled suddenly due to another target.If you're female cat in heat often displays strange behavior, with distinct howls and pained writhing so be prepared to replace them about every six weeks.Cats are repelled by the cat and is much higher for bacterial activity.

I've never tried them myself, but many people know that it's not a good answer for your kitty decides to visit my first recommendation.With using all of these, Royal Canin Veterinary Diet for Diabetic cats regulates the glucose supply and provides complete parasite control as it might be a chore.After covering the mess they sometimes make the problem is to hide and be consistent in your situation.This can cause a lot of fighting which they use their litter box:You can find it useful to try and get him to scratch and so on, until you're only rewarding her lesser from about half of all he has territorial instincts as well.

[creativelycryptid]

The Mysterious Order of Pupper McDoggo

Snootle was, above all else, a Good Boy. His owner told him, strangers on the street told him, even the neighbor’s cat told him. When Bonnie had brought him home from the shelter, he had worried he wasn’t good enough. The first few times she told him, he had been so excited. “I’m a Good Boy!!!!” he would shout and jump about, waving his long black tail in the air like a whip. Over the years, though, he had learned to accept this compliment with a certain amount of grace. His tongue would loll, his tail would wag slower (so as not to knock anything over), and he would flash his big brown eyes up to whoever had spoken. Snootle knew he was a Good Boy, and he worked hard to stay that way. So it came as a surprise when, one day at the dog park, a little pug looked him up and down and sneered. 

“You’re not a Good Boy. You must be very bad. Otherwise you would be in The Order.” Then the pug trotted off to go sniff at an odd looking stick.

Snootle was distressed. He had considered, once or twice, that he may not be the Best Boy, and there were times when he made mistakes that weren’t very Good, but never had he thought he might be a Bad Boy. His tail dragged across the grass as he slowly padded back to Bonnie. 

She tried to cheer him up, like the Good Girl she was, but not even his favorite ball could raise his tail. They left the dog park and walked back to Bonnie’s apartment. Snootle flopped down into his bed, dejected. His ears drooped and he couldn’t suppress the tiniest of whimpers. He tossed and turned all night, and by morning he knew he had to seek out this Order and find out why he wasn’t a Good Boy. He waited patiently by the door for Bonnie to leave for work, like he always did. But this time, when she closed the door behind her, he stuck the edge of his paw out, just enough to keep it open a crack. Bonnie didn’t notice, it was early and she hadn’t finished her coffee yet. Snootle was a little guilty; he knew it was Bad to trick his owner, and Very Bad to leave home without Bonnie. But, he reasoned, this would help him be a better boy. As he was about to push the door open, he heard a shrill mew behind him. Muffins, the neighbor’s pretty tabby cat, was sitting on the fire escape.

“What do you think you’re doing? This isn’t like you Snootle. You are not a Bad Dog.” Muffins’s long tail swished by her paws.

“I have to, Muffins! I’m not Good enough. But I will be! Once I find the Order, I’ll find out how to be better!” And before Muffins could reply, Snootle nosed the door open and loped out of the apartment and down the stairs, into the streets.

The only problem was that Snootle had no idea what the Order was or where to find them, or generally anything about them. They might not even be real! But he was determined, and decided a good place to start was the dog park where he first heard about the Order. Getting back there was easy enough, Bonnie took him several times a week, but he couldn’t seem to find the snide little pug from before. He had no way of knowing which - if any - other dogs knew about the Order. He was starting to become frantic when he stumbled across the strange looking stick the pug had been sniffing at. It had an odd scent, he noticed. No wonder the pug had been so interested. There seemed to be a trail of the smell leading off into some bushes, right at the edge of the park. Snootle crept closer. Nose to the ground, he pushed through the bushes and found a hole in the edge of the fence surrounding the park. The scent here was stronger than before. Snootle was distracted by the smell, so he didn’t see the other dog until he had almost run into her. She was a German Shepard, tall and broad, and her collar was a deep maroon. The elegant gold script across it read “Wooderned.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Who do you claim to be and what forces have brought you hither?” Her voice was a deep growl, and Snootle flattened himself to the ground.

“I am Snootle, and I’m just looking for the Order. I am a Good Boy.” Wooderned’s eyes narrowed even further, so it almost appeared she was squinting.

“You hope to join the Order of Pupper McDoggo? You? You are not worthy to even sniff the air of the Great Pupper. Leave now, while you still can.” She snarled, and, with a final sneer, turned her back on him dismissively, though she did not leave her guardpost.

Disheartened, Snootle pushed back through the bushes and into the dog park. He wove his way back along the familiar street and up the cold gray steps to Bonnie’s apartment. The door was still wide open, and he paused for a moment, sniffing the air. There were no unusual people smells, but he did smell a dog. A new dog, one he didn’t recognize at all. Snootle growled, lowering his head and creeping slowly into the apartment, sniffing all the while.

“We’ve been watching you, Snootle.” A voice, shrill and yappy, sounded from somewhere above. Snootle jumped back and looked wildly about the room, finally locating the dog who had spoken. He was a little wiry terrier, white except for his face, tail tip, and one paw, which were black. He had managed to wedge his tiny body into the top shelf of the big oak bookshelf.

“Did you think it was an accident that you heard about the Order? Did you really think that we would just leave our scent, that we didn’t place those clues deliberately?” The little dog yipped.

“You mean...you wanted me to find the Order? But the guard dog said…” Snootle began, confused, but the smaller dog interrupted him.

“Wooderned did as she was told. She kept you busy. She was also correct. You are NOT worthy of the Order.” he paused dramatically, “But you could be.”

Snootle’s tail began to wag. The little dog, who he learned was named Sir Borkenstein, explained how he would be given a trial to complete, and, if he was successful, he might be inducted into the Order. Sir Borkenstein made a great show of thinking this trial over, before declaring that Snootle was to retrieve the Great Pupper’s favorite chew toy from the Bad Dog at the junkyard.

“Now. FETCH!” Sir Borkenstein yapped, and with that, Snootle was off.

The junkyard was situated on the edge of town, and though Snootle had been only once, long ago, on a car ride, he remembered the strong smell of rust and dirt. The streets were confusing, some ending suddenly and others doubling back, but eventually Snootle found his way to the junkyard. It was a sprawling and dirty field, littered with scrap metal, old cars, abandoned television sets and empty fridges….and, somewhere, a Bad Dog.

Snootle crept slowly through the piles and heaps, sniffing as he went. The problem, of course, was that the smell of junk was simply too strong, and he couldn’t smell any trace of dog, Good or Bad. So he was quite surprised when the big rottweiler pounced on him from behind. Snootle was not a very small dog, in fact, he was quite big. This rottweiler was so much bigger, and it’s teeth were very sharp and very close to Snootle. This, he decided, MUST be the Bad Dog.

“This is not your territory, pup. Go home while you still can.” The Bad Dog snarled, and Snootle tucked his tail in fright. But something about the Bad Dog’s voice peaked his curiosity. It wasn’t the deep growl he had expected. Rather, it was raspy with age, and certainly higher than he had thought. The Bad Dog pulled her head back and stared hard at Snootle. She took a few steps back and waited for him to leave. Snootle did not leave.

Instead, he rose unsteadily to his paws and looked at her. Her eyes were big and brown, and though her gaze was intense, her eyes were not hard. They were sad, and her words, while harsh, were empty. Snootle slowly wagged his tail.

“I’m sorry to trespass, I didn’t mean any harm. I’m looking for something, but I’ll leave as soon as I find it. Maybe you could help me? It’s a chew toy, but I don’t know what kind.”

The rottweiler narrowed her eyes. “I know the toy you mean, pup. What do you want with it? The Order is no place for a naive babe like you. They’d eat you alive in a heartbeat.”

“What do you mean? The Order is for Good Dogs! And I am a Good Boy.” The old dog sighed, and led Snootle to a worn dog bed, where a little blue chew ring, pockmarked with teeth holes, lay nestled among a tattered blanket.

“There’s your chew toy, chewed by the Great Pupper herself. You can have it, take it back to the Order, and maybe they’ll let you hang around for a minute. But listen to my story first, and decide if they’re the kind of dogs you really want to be sniffing around.”

Her name, she explained, was Scrap, but it used to be Princess Magenta. She had lived a pampered life with a rich bachelor. She was meant to be his guard dog, but she never had to so much as growl. Her life was wrapped in silk and tied with a satin bow. And when the neighbor’s yorkie had invited her to join the Order of Pupper McDoggo, a place for Good Dogs and ONLY Good Dogs, well, how could she say no?

“Ah, if only I knew then what I know now. I never would have agreed to join. I never would have agreed to do a lot of things.” Scrap shook her head slowly.

The dogs in the Order all lived in very similar situations. Wooderened lived with a wealthy banker, Sir Borkenstein’s owner was a successful movie director, the little pug belonged to a jeweler, and the Great Pupper herself lived as a lap dog in one of the old Victorian houses on the other side of town from Bonnie’s little apartment. They were all pristine, high society pooches, and they knew it too.

“At first it was fine. Tea socials and dog biscuits and the like. Elegant, refined, and fake. The inner circle was where the real Order took place, and it was there that I first caught a glimpse of how twisted they - we - all really were.”

The inner circle consisted of the most elite dogs in the city, the ones who didn’t have to wear collars, but if they did it was with fine diamonds and velvet, silk and satin, gold thread and silver charms. They carried themselves with the utmost of pride, and looked down upon anyone who had the misfortune to not be them. This condescension extended into their humor, and they had a game that they liked - no, loved - to play with those lesser dogs. They would pick one or two unfortunate dogs and invite them to the Order. The dogs, always eager to please, would be sent on various wild goose chases until the inner circle got bored of them. Then, they would be told they weren’t good enough and sent on their way, spirits broken. Scrap wasn’t proud, but she admitted to sending a few unlucky dogs out on quests.

“I feel terrible about it now, of course, but I was blind to the hurt I was causing. Then, as it tends to do, everything changed.” Here she hesitated, her voice sad and her eyes glazed, lost in a painful memory.

Scrap - then still Princess Magenta - was on her way home from one such meeting, and before her house was even in sight, she could smell the smoke. Speeding up and turning corner, she caught sight of black billowing clouds of smoke and ash, climbing the sky above her house. Her owner sat, head in his hands, on the curb. His usually clean pressed shirt was rumpled and coated in soot. A fire truck was parked on the lawn, and it seemed that the house had been reduced to a damp smoldering mess. Her pristine life was in shambles.

“After that, my owner had to move into an apartment, and couldn’t keep me for a while. He kept me in a kennel, but he couldn’t afford to keep me there for long. A lot of things had to be replaced, and the stress made him lose sleep, the sleep made his business deals go south. He lost everything, and so did I. Now I live here, and my name is Scrap. The old man that runs the junkyard is kind enough.”

Of course, she had turned to her friends for help, for comfort. But the Order had shut its doors to her. The dogs she had shared treats with were the very same dogs that now were laughing and jeering over her tragic misfortune.

“So that is my story. You can take the toy, go to the Order, go home, do as you please. But I hope you heed my warning. Do not let them play you for a fool, Snootle. You are a Good Boy.” With that, Scrap turned and walked slowly away into the junk. Snootle sat there, alone with his thoughts. It was a sad story, but was it a true story? To be sure, Snootle decided he would have to see for himself. He picked up the toy and loped back towards the dog park. It was time to confront the Order of Pupper McDoggo.

This time, Wooderned greeted him without snarling and led him down a narrow but well kept path into the expansive backyard of an impressive and intimidating house. They entered through the back door, which pushed open easily against Wooderned’s broad shoulder. They passed numerous dogs, all well groomed, in various circles and groups. Some sat primly, talking quietly to other dogs, while others nudged around fine china laden with delicate treats. Invariably, though, they would stop to stare down at Snootle as he passed, the toy still clutched tightly in his mouth. He felt their eyes on him, judgment pouring from every dog they passed, before quietly whispering - though not so quietly he couldn’t hear them - about him once he was almost out of earshot. His fur felt hot with discomfort.

Finally, they reached a large door and entered into a bedroom. There was a large bed, with a thin lavender canopy. The sheets and comforter were darker purple and looked deliciously soft and fluffy. A large black loveseat stood to one side, with a twin on the other, and each chair held two or three dogs that regarded him with disdain, if not outright hostility. On the bed, however, was a sweet little welsh corgi. This had to be the Great Pupper. She was the only one on the bed, and the other dogs looked to her when Snootle approached. Her tiny stump tail wagged when Snootle gently placed the chew toy on the bed before her, and she immediately chomped down on it, holding it between her dainty little paws. How could such a sweet bean be the host of such mean-spirited dogs, Snootle wondered. It was clear to him that she harbored no ill will toward him, or indeed any will at all. She seemed to have no interest in speaking to him or anyone else, happily chewing away as she was. The dogs around her waited tensely, as if hoping she would dismiss him, or say something, or do anything at all. Finally one slender gray dog seemed to get fed up with waiting.

“We thank you for your service. You may leave now.” His voice was thin and full of disgust and Snootle’s presence. His collar read “Reginald.”

“I was told I could join if I brought the toy. I am a Good Boy, and this is a place for Good Dogs.” He didn’t even really want to join anymore, but he had to know. Would they snub him like Scrap said they would?

The dog who had spoken before looked horrified at the very thought, one little black scottie dog snarled aloud, and the rest of the dogs broke into a chorus of yelping laughter. All except for the Great Pupper, who barely glanced up from her chew toy. That was all Snootle needed to hear, and he turned around and marched, head held high, back past all the pompous dogs. Once outside, he retraced his steps, back to the dog park, back to the apartment, and, most importantly, back to Bonnie.

“Snootle! My pretty boy! I was worried sick about you. The door was open, I thought someone had stolen you. Lemme look at you. You’re not hurt?” Bonnie pet him gently and smushed his face. Snootle wagged his tail, hard and high, and licked her face.

“Snootle, you are such a Good Boy!”

“Yes. I AM a Good Boy!”