A flash fiction story by Brian Robinson.
“Jesus! Look at the state of the place. What on earth has gone on? Have we been burgled? And what about this? I never thought I’d see the day. The cat’s in bed with the dog. Look! They’re the best of friends. Something really weird must happened?”
“Run the video. It’ll all be on tape.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?
There you go. The dog’s heard something. His ears are pricked. He’s sat up, looking at the stairs.”
“Did you shut the bedroom door? I bet you didn’t. How many times have I told you to check the blessed latch before we go. The dog will kill the cat if she gets out. He’s a greyhound, that’s how they’re wired. You men never listen.”
“That’s a generalisation dear, but yes if you say so.”
“He’s seen something. The cat’s out. Bloody hell! He’s going to kill her! Oh my God!”
“No he won’t. It’s all bluster. Blimey! Did you see the way she scrambled up those curtains, like a mountain lion on steroids.”
“Yes, my new bloody curtains if you don’t mind. They’ll be in shreds.”
“Sorry dear, my mistake, I thought you were worried about the cat?”
“I can’t bear to watch this. Crikey! How did she manage to spring from the top of the curtains to the bookcase?”
“She’s a cat dear. That’s what they do.”
“She won’t be a cat for much longer. The dog’s going bloody mental.”
“He can’t get to her, not while she’s on the bookcase.”
“No, but he’s trashing the place in the meantime. Look at the mess he’s making.
Oh my God! He’s collapsed. What’s wrong with him?”
“Search me. Looks like he’s had a heart attack or something. It’s all been a bit too much.”
“This is your bloody fault. The dog’s dead. My poor dog! I’ll never forgive you.”
“Try and stay calm dear.”
“The cat’s looking down at him. She knows something’s wrong. She wants to jump but she can’t. It’s too high. She’s looking over at the curtains. She’s going to jump. There she goes. She’s inching her way down like someone abseiling.
Now what’s she doing? She’s meowing in his face. Prodding him with her paws. She knows he’s dead. Cat’s always know when someone’s dead or dying. They have a sixth sense you know.”
“It’s a pity she didn’t use her sixth sense and stay in the blasted bedroom.”
“I don’t believe it. The dog’s moving again. Look his head’s up. He’s staring at the cat. He’s confused.”
“What do you expect. You’d be confused if you’d just had a heart attack and woke up with a weird furry thing purring in your face.”
“She’s licking him. Can you believe that?”
“Just remember dear, this newfound cat and dog harmony is all my fault.”