Work Text:
Where did it all go wrong?
A short story on Beatrice’s not-so-perfect life
That got messed up even more
By a stupid orange cat
Told in parts
Duh
(If a dog could write, this would’ve been her diary)
(Ah yes, let’s name this, “A dog’s diary”)
(I did name the fic that, right?)
~
Beatrice heard the telltale signs of her owner waking up, the sheets shifting and the sound of feet hitting the carpeted floor. Her other owner, whom she learnt was called Babe, was still snoring softly.
She felt her fur getting ruffled, so she peeked her eye open and got up to stretch when he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Beatrice bounded to the closed room door, jumping on her two back paws to push down on the handle as she trotted downstairs, waiting next to the dining table for her breakfast.
She didn’t want to just sit and wait, but she learnt from the last time when Babe caught her trotting around the house, saying that it was too early to deal with the sound of her nails on the wooden floor, so she got a scolding and was told to sit put. She didn’t like it, but she cocked her head and took in the information, internalizing it silently. It was good time wasted, but she didn’t like it when her owners were angry, she was left outside for a few days as punishment, which was fine, but there were too many disturbances outside, like the cats that always strayed too close to the property or the cars that whizzed pass – it was just more peaceful in the house, so she obeyed.
He came down soon after, already dressed for work in that blue button-up shirt of his. It was Beatrice’s favourite, because she could only see 4 colours (if she didn’t count the shades anyway), and blue was always nice to look at. Her owner seemed to like it too, maybe blue was his favourite colour too, that would be quite cool.
Beatrice’s tail started wagging on its own when she thought about that.
“Beatrice, Mommy doesn’t like it when you make noise so early in the morning, stop wagging your tail.”
Beatrice whimpered softly, but again, did nothing and merely obeyed.
Beatrice also wanted to tell Owner that her mommy was not here, and not her , her mommy was the doggy she suckled from, and was separated from when she was a child. Many say the little puppers don’t remember, but she remembered, and she was quite sad, but Owner made her happy and she made him happy too, so she just hoped she could see Mommy again one day.
He came over, and gave her a little scratch behind the ear, “That’s a good doggy, you know you’re a good doggy, yes?”
Oh, how Beatrice wanted to start wagging her tail again or start barking in agreement, but she thought that it would be quite contradictory to her owner’s words. To be honest, she didn’t know what his name was, Babe always called him all sorts of different things, and he always answered. Sometimes it was hot stuff, and other times bear, and sometimes even asshole, but Owner didn’t seem to like the last one that much, yet he still responded.
It was easy for Beatrice, she was either Beatrice or dog, or sometimes even the dog, Babe didn’t call her Beatrice, just dog, but she knew not to respond either way. Babe didn’t like it when she came too close, and she always started screaming and shouting, which hurt Beatrice’s ears and made her fur stand on end.
Beatrice wasn’t sure what she did to incur Babe’s wrath like this, but Owner said it was because Babe was scared of dogs. Beatrice thought she wasn’t that scary.
Well, she could be. She managed to scare off a burglar once, and she barked at a racoon that came too close to their trash bin and it scampered away, so she supposed she could be scary, but she was always nice to Babe, always tried to bring her her favourite toys. She even tried her favourite tennis ball, but Babe didn’t seem to like the tennis ball. Maybe she liked basketball instead? She had to try that next time Owner brought her to the pet store. She didn’t know how to read yet, but Owner always brought her to the same building to get her toys. The logo, was blue, which made her extremely happy, but the other half was a duller colour to her, like a grey with a yellowish tint, which she didn’t enjoy very much, but half the word was better than none, and she knew some dogs who didn’t even get toys, so she was grateful.
She was nuzzling into Owner’s palm when his watch rang and he got up to get her food from the cupboard. He asked for a paw and a spin, which she, of course, executed perfectly, and got 2 scoops of food in her dog bowl, that had little bees on it for some odd reason. It didn’t matter though, cause she quite liked that bowl, but it was still odd. She was a dog, not a bee, but it didn’t change the fact that her bowl had bees on it. She ate as silently as she could, so she wouldn’t get another berating, and tried to match her owner’s speed so she could send him off for work and rub at his leg and watch from the window as his car went out of the driveway.
The chair dragged against the floor and Beatrice perked up and finished the last remains of her food as Owner went to wash his bowl and hers. Beatrice lapped up some water while waiting, and then sat in front of him as he wore his socks and shoes, then gave him a little show by rolling on the ground and then waving her paw, like a goodbye.
He laughed and gave her a few more scritches before he had to leave and as Beatrice had predicted, she was standing in front of the window, watching his car roll out of the driveway.
She wasn’t sad per se, but she liked her owner, and it was okay because Owner told her once that if he didn’t go and work, she wouldn’t have dog food left to eat, and on Sundays, there would be no bacon for her to snack on when he cooked his breakfast, which left her very depressed, so she much rather her owner disappear for 9 hours a day than not have food for the rest of her life.
She went to her toy box and got her chew stick – she liked it when her teeth were sharp and clean – and started chewing so she wouldn’t disrupt Babe and make her even more angry than usual.
She came down after an hour (Beatrice checked, and her internal clock was very good, thank you) and began to make her breakfast. Babe always had nicer breakfasts than Owner, Beatrice always liked to imagine how it would taste since the smell was always divine, but she knew she’d get smacked if she even tried to beg for Babe’s food, so she settled with salivating all over the floor and her stick.
Babe turned around and placed her plate on the table, then zoned in onto her, “Gosh you’re drooling all over the floor, clean up after yourself.”
Beatrice whimpered and trotted to the cloth at the corner, pawing at it until it cleared the stain on the floor. She whined again to indicate she was done, and Babe just told her to “shut up”. She wasn’t sure what that meant, because Owner always did different things when Babe told him to shut up, so Beatrice just stared at her until Babe said, “I guess you’re not so useless after all.” Then Beatrice was happy again, but this time, she stood up to wag her tail, so it wouldn’t hit the ground and make noise.
Babe got up from her seat and turned back to her when she was about to go up the stairs, looking at Beatrice for a long and hard moment before she turned back and walked towards the front door instead.
“Dog, put the cloth back and go outside and play.”
Beatrice’s tail stopped wagging.
She didn’t want to go outside and play, how would she tell Babe that?
She wanted to bark and whine and beg but she knew it was probably useless and Babe would get angrier and instead of telling her to go outside and play for God knows how long, she would kick her out and leave her until Owner came home. Beatrice shivered at that thought.
She pushed the cloth back to its original place and then trotted outside, bringing her favourite tennis ball with her so she wouldn’t be so sad.
Babe slammed the door behind Beatrice as she went out, accidentally hitting her which made her yowl in pain – from the physical slam and the sound it made. She turned back around with a pained growl, but Babe was already long gone, and the door was semi-unlocked, not being able to fully close as she was in the way.
Huh.
Beatrice could have bounded back into her house and done all her daily activities, like playing with her rope or sleeping with her Rudolph plush, either in her mouth or hugging it, or both.
She wasn’t permitted on the couch, not since Babe found dog hair on it and forbade her since it was “Four thousand dollars you stupid mutt,” so Beatrice had to settle with sleeping on the floor or the dog bed in the master bedroom. She thought the couch was the most comfortable but making her owners happy was her main objective, so the floor was fine.
Either way, she was getting off track, she had a chance here, a choice. She stared at the slither of space between the frame and the door itself, and then she thought about Babe’s words and what she wanted Beatrice to do.
Huh.
Beatrice bounded onto the grass, choosing to leave the door open in case she needed to escape back into the house. Otherwise, she would stay outside and hope for a butterfly to land on her nose like that time when she was still a small dog. And maybe enjoy the sun, sunbathing was quite nice. If it rained, she could just go back in, or if it became too loud, she could go back in for a while too.
She didn’t want to get caught in the house, no no, but she at least had a choice, and that was more than anything else, so for that, she was happy at least.
Now she just had to hope her leg was fine, hope it didn’t rain, and hope the door wouldn’t close itself.
-||-
Beatrice lay on the grass, gnawing at the tennis ball and playing fetch with herself. It probably looked quite sad from another person’s point of view, but Beatrice was having fun, and that was all that mattered right?
The ball bounced as she let it go, flinging it from her mouth as it tumbled across the grass patch in front of her house, hitting the side fence that separated the neighbour’s house from her owners. She never did see them much, but they had children, and Beatrice liked children, but the neighbours always told them not to touch her because she might bite, she didn’t know how to tell them she wouldn’t, and that she would be the goodest of good dog and sit pretty and let them pull her ear and hug her body and pet her head.
As Beatrice ran to pick it up, her ears perked up as the yowl of a cat was heard. Loud, shrill, and frankly quite annoying. Beatrice hoped they wouldn’t come too close, she was quite having fun in her front yard and didn’t need anyone interfering with that.
She picked up her ball with her mouth and deposited it into her toy box next to the shoe rack. It was a much smaller one, with a lot fewer toys – a lot less of her favourite toys – and had her leash in it, but it would have to do for now, even if the tennis ball was her favourite toy. She didn’t want to be caught off guard and accidentally let the cats come into her owner’s house. They were vile and Beatrice tried to be nice often, but she couldn’t help it, all the cats always bared their teeth and threatened to scratch Beatrice. Beatrice couldn’t be nice to these kinds of animals.
When Beatrice turned around, her ears were in aeroplane mode, as Owner liked to call it, listening intently and waiting for any potential attack. They were getting closer, the fighting sounds getting louder and it seemed like one of them was running? Beatrice wasn’t too sure. She walked cautiously closer towards the pavement in front of the yard, sticking her head to the right, then to the left and before she could react, a flash of orange zoomed past her and then she was met face-to-face with 4 other cats.
One of them had a large scar across its face, menacing and growling and sticking its shoulders up, like it was trying to be bigger, but it was a little hard when Beatrice was 23 inches tall and it was 23 centimetres tall. Two other cats next to Scarface looked like twins, a little smaller, like lackeys almost. The last one, well, there was not much to it. Her? Him? She wasn’t sure. But it lacked anything much really, average and it looked a little confused, like it had never seen a dog of her calibre before.
Scarface and the twins growled at her and she growled back, her own claws at the ready in case they decided to swipe her face. She learnt from the last time when she was curious and got too close for her own good. Luckily she didn’t get hit, but she was not one to make the same mistake twice.
Scarface swiped first, and it was fast and quick, but Beatrice had been trained by the police force once. When Owner thought it’d be cool to do this dog program where dogs wouldn’t join the force fully, but they’d train and help out once in a while. It was quite useful now, when Beatrice pushed her paw upwards and jerked the cat from its underbelly, Scarface jumping up like it had never experienced such a thing and of course, cats would always land on their feet, Beatrice was expecting that, so she opened her mouth and did a little chompy chomp.
When she let go, scarface ran away, and the other 3 offered her one more second, looking from her to the retreating figure of Scarface and back before bounding after their supposed leader.
Beatrice felt proud, her head held high.
If she was Owner now, she’d have her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.
Alas, she was, only, but a dog.
A timid meow behind her reminded her of the predicament.
Oh, that stupid troublemaker bringing all of this into her front porch. Beatrice turned around, a snarl on her face, trying to shoo the cat away too, but the cat merely meowed at her and rubbed up against her legs.
How fucking strange.
What was even stranger was when the door swung open and Babe saw the cat rubbing at Beatrice’s feet and started cooing, picking the cat up and stroking its head.
“Aww look at you! You’re injured, I’ll patch you up yeah? Make you all better,” Babe said.
Beatrice felt her ears fall against her head, this time in sadness. How come a random street cat could get more love from Babe than Beatrice? What had Beatrice done wrong?
Though, Babe didn’t give much time for Beatrice to ponder and think, bringing in the cat and getting ready to shut the door, this time, for good. Beatrice sprinted into the house, and Babe didn’t seem to notice, too busy with that orange cat, or maybe she didn’t care, now that she had an orange cat to care about.
Beatrice merely laid on the ground and stared as Babe walked around the living area with that orange cat that was now wagging its tail slowly and chirping.
Beatrice couldn’t stand it anymore.
She forced herself to sleep.
-||-
When she woke up, Babe was nowhere to be seen, but the cat was still in the house ( why? ) and it was eating from her bowl. EATING FROM HER BOWL?!
Beatrice bounded up, growling.
That’s my bowl! Mine! Why are you eating from it!?
The cat looked up, meowing at Beatrice again as she rubbed against Beatrice.
Why? Why? Why again? Why wasn’t the cat scared of her?
Everyone seemed to be scared of her, even Babe, so why was it that this cat just chirped and meowed and rubbed all over her? Heck!?
Beatrice growled lowly in warning, and it made the cat step back, but it didn’t move far. It was still looking at Beatrice happily.
This time, there was white wrapping all over the cat, like a Christmas present, she remembered getting one 2 months ago, but this was white, and not the grey that her wrapping was.
It looked different too, cause it pressed down onto the cat’s fur, and it didn’t cover all of the cat, just little parts, wrapped here and there, like a mummy! Yes, Beatrice remembers now, sitting next to the couch as Owner watched that show.
Beatrice huffed again, angrily, just to make another point, and the cat cocked its head, and pushed the food towards her.
What was this blasphemy?! She was not to share, this was her bowl!
But she didn’t make a move to eat, she wasn’t hungry from breakfast. So the cat continued to eat and Beatrice continued to seethe.
-||-
Throughout the day, Beatrice stayed away from the cat, playing with her toys and pretending it didn’t exist, since it wasn’t scared of her either way. The cat always tried to come close, but she always walked away.
The cat tried to play with her toys, but Beatrice always snatched them back and placed them where they belonged – in the boxes. Soon the cat gave up, like it understood that Beatrice didn’t want it to touch the toys. Good. Those were her toys anyway.
Infuriatingly, the cat went to sleep on the couch, and when Beatrice tried to wake it up by jumping up on the couch and barking at it to get off because it was a forbidden zone, Babe came downstairs and gave her a scolding, but the cat was allowed to stay, on the sofa, on the $4000 sofa. But not her.
What did she do wrong?
-||-
The cat stole her owners. Beatrice is sure of that. Or at least the cat did something, like voodoo magic or replaced them OR JUST SOMETHING because Owner came home 4 hours earlier than usual, Babe and Owner had a screaming match of sorts (which really hurt her ears and made her really sad) but then that stupid cat and its stupid fur and stupid white bands rubbed against Owner’s legs and suddenly the shouting stopped.
Which was worse, because Owner picked the cat up and started playing with it.
And now it was eating out of Beatrice’s bowl again, but there was fish in it now. Beatrice had nothing against fish, in fact, Owner had given her a few scraps once, and she quite enjoyed it, but this was, again, her bowl, so why was a stray cat eating out of it?
Beatrice didn’t want to growl at the cat.
Well, she wanted to, tell the cat that was her bowl, but Owner and Babe were all infatuated with that damn cat and she thought that growling would get her kicked out and then she would become the stray and the cat would take her place in the house and on the dog bed and she would be allowed on the sofa and the cat would look at her from the window and she would become the one having to run away from Scarface, the twins and the derpy boring one.
She would win, no doubt about it, but there would probably be other things and she wouldn’t be able to escape the whirling cars anymore.
She heard the dog across the street say there were snakes around too. Beatrice didn’t want to believe it, ‘cause she hadn’t actually seen a snake around, but risking it wouldn’t be the smart thing. Imagine lying down in the grass and suddenly being strangled to death by something you couldn’t see? Ugh.
Either way, she settled (for now) with staring at the cat from afar, trying to get lasers out from her eyes like that one superhero. Was it Superman? She thinks he had a dog with powers too, but she’s not too sure. Maybe if she managed to do a trick and impress Owner and Babe, they would focus on her again.
Ah, she perked up at that thought, immediately jumping up and barking, twirling and chasing her tail and begging like she knew how to.
“That’s very nice Beatrice,” Owner said absentmindedly, but he was focusing more on that stupid cat still.
Ugh.
The cat was watching her when she did her tricks, and suddenly it was sitting on its hind legs too, doing the exact same begging motion she had just done prior.
This time there were shouts and cheers and “Oh my god this orange is a genius!”
Hey! She could do it too. She did it too, so why was it that they didn’t care?
Beatrice couldn’t deal with it anymore.
Beatrice retreated to her dog bed and sulked.
-||-
“Beatrice, we’re going to the pet store, you like the pet store right?” Beatrice tilted her head.
The pet store?
Today?
On an inconsequential Thursday that wasn’t her birthday or Christmas or Halloween or New Year's?
She barked, of course, to signify her excitement, but she was still confused.
Why?
When she trotted behind Owner down to the front door to wear her leash, then she understood.
That stupid cat was coming along.
They were going to buy it toys.
She suddenly didn’t want to go anymore, plopping down onto the ground and flopping like she wasn’t just jumping in excitement 3 seconds ago.
Owner saw how she was looking at the cat.
“Beatrice, this is your new sister, Ava, don’t you like her? Mommy says she heard cats fighting downstairs and saw you protecting Ava, so you must like her very much. C’mon, let’s go to the pet store and get her her some bowls and toys yeah?”
How would Beatrice be able to tell him she was forced to protect Ava when that dumb cat brought trouble to their house?
Babe scoffed.
“The dog is so dramatic, so jealous, like I said, we should have gotten rid of her sooner.”
“Babe! What’s wrong with Beatrice? Is it because she’s black? Or that she is of German descent? Because both are frankly racist.”
Babe laughed and scoffed and spluttered, “No! God, she’s just so whiny, why the hell would you think I’m racist to a dog ?”
Owner shook his head, “No, but you’re so unpredictable sometimes, who knows what you’re thinking,” He was muttering but Babe started screaming again, something about being tyrannical and insane, which are words she hasn’t learnt yet, so she added them to her ever-growing list of weird words that Babe used on Owner as she tried to figure out what she meant.
Owner did say she was a very intelligent dog.
She couldn’t deal with any more screaming however, so she just barked louder. Which, in retrospect (she learnt this word from Owner’s daddy, which he said was called Grandpa), might have been a dumb thing to do, but at least both of them stopped their screaming debacle (Grandpa, again, taught her that) and looked at her instead.
Before Babe could complain again, she picked up her leash and trotted to Owner.
Let’s go.
“Oh wow, I knew you liked Ava, look babe, she’s eager! She’s probably just tired from saving Ava earlier,”
Babe rolled her eyes.
Beatrice wanted to do that too. She made me save her by running behind me.
“Whatever, I’m going back to work,” Babe disappeared upstairs again in a jiffy, and then it was just her, Owner, and the orange cat that was apparently 1. A female cat, 2. Her new sister and 3. Named Ava.
Ava mrrped from the couch and Beatrice just sniffled.
Owner crouched down to Beatrice’s height, giving her a few ear scritches, “You know Beatrice, orange cats, 80% of them are males, so Ava is quite a rarity.”
Oh?
“And she’s so nice, isn’t she? Such a nice face, a little scrawny but some food will fix that, yeah? She’s a sociable cat, and I know you’re not a sociable dog but humans have this concept of extroverts adopting introverts, but it seems to be the other way round this time.”
Beatrice might have considered herself smart, and Owner had even reinforced that mentality multiple times throughout her stay here (which was admittedly, a large part of her dog life) but she was lost. Too much jargon (Grandpa, again) for her to understand. Grandpa would help her when he came.
He had this thick book he always took from the study and Beatrice liked listening to him explain words to her. Sometimes he managed to explain words that she wanted to know, and sometimes he explained words that she had never heard before, and sometimes he explained those that Beatrice already knew, but it was fine.
Ah, Beatrice should find a way to tell Grandpa which words she wanted to learn, it’d be faster that way, wouldn’t it?
She barked in confusion, and Owner just laughed, “Yeah you probably didn’t get it huh? It’s alright, let’s just go to Pet Smart yeah? We can get a toy for you as well, for saving Ava and growing our family hm?”
How was she to tell Owner that she didn’t want a toy, but rather, Ava gone?
Ava was merely licking her paws and lying on the sofa when Beatrice looked back at her.
Stupid rare orange female cat.
-||-
Pet Smart.
She finally knew the name of the pet store she had been going to all her life.
Well to be more exact, the only pet store she had been going to all her life, but that didn’t really matter, did it?
Beatrice trotted in like she knew the place, because she kinda did, she’d been here at least 3 times every year, but Owner was tugging her away from their usual route.
“Beatrice love, we have to go to the cat section this time yeah?”
Oh.
Oh, right yeah.
Beatrice sighed (as much of a sigh a dog could sigh anyway) and followed behind Owner, ‘cause she didn’t know where the cat section was obviously.
She was a dog, why did she need to know about the cat section? Nevertheless, Owner brought them, her , to the cat section, and placed Ava down, letting the cat roam freely. The cat chirped and looked at Beatrice, coming to rub at her again. Oh what the-
“Aww Beatrice, look, she likes you more than all the cat toys here!”
Ugh.
She regrets not learning how to puke on command.
She tried not to scream at Owner and tell him that Ava, as it was, was still a stray from outside, but then she realized she was not at all repulsed by Ava’s smell.
Then it dawned on her that Babe probably washed Ava.
Babe never washed Beatrice.
Ugh.
Beatrice stared down at the stupid orange cat and she was chirping again, rubbing all against Beatrice, her tail wrapping around Beatrice’s leg and then tickling under her chin and the side of her body pushing against her front and then Beatrice had enough.
She let out a low, predatory growl, probably the angriest and scariest thing she had done in her life, because it scared herself as well (she didn’t know she was even capable of something like that) but Ava jumped back, as opposed to last time, and suddenly she was shrinking into herself, small and timid as her tail wrapped around herself.
“Beatrice! Why did you do that? Your sister just wanted to show you some affection!” Owner scolded, but she wasn’t listening very much. There was a satisfied feeling settling, like she had finally managed to conquer an enemy of sorts, but there was another feeling clawing at her, and she wasn’t really sure what it was. She never felt this feeling before, and it felt painful, like she wanted to scream.
“Ava!”
Oh.
“Beatrice, look what you did!”
Oh.
“Go find her, and bring her back, she’s injured, she won’t survive in the wild. Do you hear me?”
Her leash was let go and she looked behind her, at Owner, who looked very cross at her. It was the first time he had that expression.
“Go!”
Oh.
She let her nose and legs carry her.
-||-
When she found Ava, the cat was curled up into itself, and Beatrice had seen Owner and Babe cry before, but this felt worse almost. She didn’t think cats could cry, and she personally didn’t think animals could cry in general, she never found herself wanting to cry (though she did whine and sulk when she was sad) so seeing Ava not even making a sound, just in a small little ball of fur that Beatrice didn’t even know was possible until she was indeed, today years old, she felt weird.
Like was she happy? A little bit.
But she was also kinda unhappy? A bit sad and grovely, but it was weird because why? Of course, she felt sad when Owner scolded her but this wasn’t the same type of sadness that made her want to look at the floor and lick his palm so he would start laughing, or at least stroke her again.
Wait.
Oh no.
Oh no no no no.
Oh she wanted to-
No.
No.
She would not finish that thought or it’ll become a real thing.
Owner has a niece, which means his sibling’s daughter, (Beatrice briefly wonders if her siblings have little litters too now) said that if she thought about it, it would become true. She didn’t want it to become true. Little human niece person said it was called “aura fluffing and manifestation”, whatever those meant.
Ava looked up and mewled softly, apprehensively, like she wasn’t sure if Beatrice was going to growl at her again.
Beatrice wanted to say something like “serve you right for coming too close” (which Babe loved to say by the way) but she couldn’t find it herself to bark or growl one more time to scare the shit out of Ava.
It’d be too much work to chase after her again.
When Ava saw that Beatrice wasn’t trying to snarl at her again, she unfurled slowly, like those scenes in movies when someone had their gun pointed at someone else and they moved slowly with their hands up in the air.
Ava approached, this time with her tail between her legs and soft mews. She didn’t touch Beatrice no, but her paw was out, hovering like she was asking for permission. Permission Beatrice was unwilling to give, but growling = runaway cat and Beatrice had enough of running, so when Ava’s paw came into contact with her own, she didn’t move, just watched the cat with a curious eye.
Ava still seemed apprehensive, but she stepped closed either way, rubbing once more. Not full-on pushing into Beatrice like the last times, no, but soft and easy. Beatrice could just take a step back and they wouldn’t be touching anymore. Easy.
Mrrp.
What?
Ava was chirping.
How was Beatrice to understand cat language?
Ava didn’t know or care about Beatrice’s inner dilemma, and just rubbed softly until she had enough. Or maybe she knew Beatrice’s patience was thin and if she pushed anymore, she would get another load of dog in her face. Either way, she stopped, and that was what Beatrice cared about. Beatrice walked behind the cat and nudged her forward, back towards her second favourite place and was relieved when Ava started trotting.
Smart kitty.
Beatrice took the lead after 4 steps, and was relieved when Ava followed her all the way back.
Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.
-||-
“Aww, you like this one? Yeah?”
Ava had been pawing at this cat bowl for a while. It was blue and yellow with little doughnut rings. Owner said it was called halos.
Owner took it from the stack and placed it on the ground, letting Ava sniff and smack it around. After Ava had her fair share of ‘fun’, Ava pushed it towards Beatrice.
What, did she want her to play?
Beatrice smacked it back.
Ava chirped, but pushed it back slowly.
Oh, so she didn’t want to play?
Beatrice stared at it for a whole minute, not sure what Ava wanted from her. Then Ava pawed at another bowl, a different design, with fishes on it this time, and Owner took it and put it on the ground next to the halo one.
Ava pushed that bowl towards Beatrice too, the she meowed at Beatrice again.
Oh.
Choice.
To pick.
Beatrice remembered doing this once, when she was younger, when Owner threw a lot of paper on the ground and made her pick one, and that was how she got her name.
Babe sometimes said it was stupid for Owner to have added an old lady name into a pile of dog names, but Beatrice likes her name. She chose it, why wouldn’t she like it?
Beatrice stared at the two bowls and then lifted her left paw – halo.
Ava chirped happily and then did it again, pawing at another design, this time with cat paw prints.
Owner placed it down on the ground with a quirk of his eyebrow but didn’t comment.
Beatrice picked the halo again.
Ava did a little spin and pushed the cat print bowl away and started meowing happily.
“Aww, you asked your older sister for her opinion, you’re so cute,” Owner laughed, giving Ava’s head some attention as he placed the two discarded cat bowls back, and put the halo one in the basket.
“Alright, c’mon! Let’s pick some toys for you!”
The rest of the day went by like this, Ava picking something and constantly asking for Beatrice’s input, like she wanted Beatrice’s input. Beatrice thought it was maybe because Ava knew these were going to infringe on Beatrice’s space, so Beatrice had to like it in some capacity. They got a cat tree (apparently cat’s needed that to scratch their claws against so it would stay sharp) and they got a little fishing rope-type toy and catnip? No idea what those were. There was also a fake rat, and if Beatrice could talk, she would ask Owner why he didn’t want to instead release Ava to catch the real ones she knows are scuttering around because she hears their little feet pattering from time to time.
They were done in an hour of sorts, time did go by quite quickly when the cat is constantly looking for your opinions, and as promised, Owner let her pick one more toy for being a “good older sister”. Ulgh. She picked a basketball.
-||-
The car broke down on the way back from the store, which Beatrice had never known was possible, because that car was sturdy as a rock, but it had to be towed away, so they walked the remaining way back. Owner said it was 3km. Owner saying “might as well” since Beatrice needed her daily exercise and cats needed exercise too. How was Beatrice to tell him that the cat probably already ran enough for a marathon?
Either way, she was trogging along, Ava keeping up surprisingly well for her little legs and Owner panting behind them. Beatrice thought Owner was panting more than Ava and her combined, which was funny because Owner went to the gym once a week, and Grandpa said it was where humans go to get strong. Did panting mean a human was stronger?
As she was distracted in her own head, Ava let out a shrill call, and her anger came back twofold.
What the hell do you want now?
Oh.
Oh, there they were again.
That little Scarface cat gang.
Could she ever catch a break around here?
Ava hissed at them, but she was half-hidden behind her. I mean fair, she was one cat against four, but Beatrice was basically equivalent to four cats.
“Ah, are those the cats that were bothering you earlier? Poor thing Ava,” Owner picked Ava up and into his hands. “C’mon Beatrice, let’s go,”
Owner tugged her leash and made her walk in the opposite pavement but the cats followed and blocked their path again.
Ugh.
Beatrice growled, like earlier when she did it to Ava. To her credit, scarface flinched and jumped up, but she wasn’t expecting Scarface to land a blow as it jumped up from its spot.
Beatrice yelped and reeled her face back, her nose suddenly very painful.
Ugh.
There was another hiss, but this time from above her. Ava jumped in front of her face, paws swinging wildly against her face. Scarface tried to fight back, but Ava was a lot quicker, going again and again at Scarface. Beatrice saw the other 3 cats move in to ambush Ava.
Uh.
She roared.
It worked.
All 4 of them ran away with tails between their legs again.
Uh.
“Oh my god Beatrice, are you alright?” Owner touched her cheek, looking at the gash on her snout. “Oh that cat got you good, maybe I should send you to the vet.”
Beatrice didn’t like the vet.
She whined and ran back home, with Ava and Owner running after her.
-||-
“Come here Beatrice! I need to clean the wound!”
Beatrice was running around the house, avoiding Owner trying to catch her and rub that painful liquid on her. Never again, one swipe, it hurt so much she had to bolt.
She ran into the dog room she never used and hid.
The pet flap swayed from her speed, and Owner groaned, “Fuck, Beatrice!” Beatrice knew the door was locked. Beatrice also knew the only key to the room was in the pet room itself. Why? Well, she stole it of course.
“Beatrice! Open the damn door!”
Ugh.
There were some chirps outside and before she knew it, Ava was trotting into the pet flap too.
Ugh.
What did she want?
Ava came up to her lying body and crazily enough, started licking at the wound. It hurt less than whatever Owner put on her wound earlier, so whatever, it was fine.
Hell, Beatrice even felt her eyes closing as Ava licked.
Goodnight?
-||-
When she woke up again, Ava was snuggling against her side while Beatrice was sleeping straight, like a log.
Okay.
It felt okay.
She went back to sleep.
-||-
“Beatrice! Ava! Dinner! I swear to God what are the kids even doing these days?”
Ava stretched awake next to her, nuzzling against her face and licking her wound again.
Ugh.
Strangely, Beatrice didn’t want to push her away.
They went for dinner after that.
-||-
Ava caught her looking at her cat food in the new halo cat bowl, which was basically overpriced tuna, or that was what Babe was saying anyway.
Ava pushed the bowl towards her.
Uh.
The fish was quite good.
-||-
“Beatrice! Dogs are not supposed to eat that much fish!”
Oh.
Ava had been sharing her food with Beatrice for 5 days straight.
“And look at Ava huh? She’s still as scrawny as the day we picked her up! No more stealing from her!”
Oh.
-||-
Ava has her own cat bed, but she sleeps cuddled up next to Beatrice’s belly, on Beatrice’s dog bed.
Beatrice gave up trying to push her out after the third time.
-||-
Ava is sleeping on her dog bed.
Again.
Stereotypical.
Beatrice goes in anyway, and tries not to step too hard or too fast.
-||-
“Grandpa? Are they lesbian?”
Huh? What did lesbian mean?
“What? They’re just sisters,”
“But George and Maya stayed together, you called them siblings too and they made their own dog babies!” Little human niece was now medium human niece, and she had a brother, which was little human nephew.
“Well, Beatrice could be nice to Ava and vice versa because they’re siblings,” Grandpa muttered.
“But siblings are mean to you sometimes. Sister says that’s how siblings show love, but Ava is always nice to Beatrice and Beatrice is always nice to Ava!”
“Your sister is mean to you? What did she do?”
“She put me in a chokehold once-”
“Lilith Annabeth Villaumbrosia! What did you do to your bother?!”
Ah.
That was the end of the lesbian discussion Beatrice supposed.
-||-
Beatrice got an alphabet set for her birthday. 26 buttons, each with one letter of the alphabet on it. She could spell and ask Grandpa for the words now. Owner had taught her some phonics, and he said she was doing very well and he was super proud of her.
She tried to spell lesbian .
Lesson sounded a little bit like it.
So she clicked L once and E another time and S twice.
Then librarian. The end sounded a little similar, but libarian was an r and lesbian was a b.
So she clicked B once, then I, A and N.
Owner and Grandpa stared at her for a while.
“It’s uhm, when two females love each other, like how Grandpa and Grandma love each other, like husband and wife. And uh, lesbian is spelt with one s, Beatrice.”
Oh.
Ava chirped in front of her. Beatrice looked towards the orange cat.
Oh.
Oh alright. Beatrice understood the word now.