Unusual Pet

Not sure which blog this story belongs on... Let's see how it does here. As always, comments are welcome and appreciated.

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The play of wooden wind chimes from his dream translated into persistent knocking on the front door as Richard reluctantly opened his eyes. For a moment all was quiet and then the knocking started again, more determined than before. Grumbling, he pulled on a pair of sweats and glanced at the alarm clock. Two thirty in the morning.

“Someone better be dead, Kira,” he growled, opening the front door.

The woman on his doorstep attempted a smile but what came out was a tightly twisted grimace.

“Oh, I hope so,” was all she said, pushing past him into the house.

Before he could say anything, she turned to face him.

“The bastard had a heart attack,” she spit the words out, hands balled into fists at her sides. “He’s in intensive care and mother insists I come immediately. He couldn’t just die and get it over with, could he?”

She rubbed her arms for warmth and glared at him, “Anyway, you know how my mother gets, so I have to go…” She muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

“Kira, you could tell her, you know,” he attempted. “If she knew what he did…”

“Stop it, Rick, “ she cut him off, waving her hand, “I’m not having another one of those ‘truth is best’ conversations now. This is between me and that bastard and anyway, that’s not why I’m here.” She inhaled and continued, “I need a favor…”

In spite of himself, Richard grinned. Kira’s fiery nature was one of the reasons he fell in love with her even when she told him straight out that he had the wrong plumbing. The two became friends and Richard ended up on the receiving end of many rants involving Kira’s father, or “the bastard” as she referred to him.

“A favor?” Richard’s grin widened, “Do ask…”

Kira set her jaw and glared at him, “I hate asking.”

“Yes, I know.”

Kira turned and prowled around the living room, picking things up and putting them back down. Finally, she stalked back to where Richard was leaning against the wall.

“I have…” she hesitated, searching for the right word, “a pet that needs looking after. I’ll only be gone for a couple of days, three max, but I can’t leave Sephi alone. I need someone to stay at my place during the day and look after her.”

Richard raised an eyebrow, but Kira continued, “You can write from anywhere, right? I have WiFi, food, coffee… You can bring your laptop and you can even sleep there if you want. God knows it’s warmer than this icebox you call home.” She shivered, waiting for his reply.

Richard frowned, “No offense, K, but does your kitty need a constant companion? Can’t I just drop in during the day and feed it or change the litter?”

For the first time that night, Kira’s expression cleared and she gave him a dazzling smile, “I didn’t say Sephi was a cat… Look,” she added before he could interrupt. “Just promise me you’ll do it and I’ll leave you to get back to sleep.”

He opened his mouth to protest but Kira had already seen the agreement in his eyes.

“Great,” she leaned in to give him a quick hug. “Feeding and care instructions are on the kitchen table. I’ll give you a call tonight to see how you’re getting on. Thanks!” and with that she was out the door, leaving him holding a key to her loft.

Driving to Kira’s loft the next morning he tried to recall any previous mention of a pet but came up with nothing. Shrugging, he concentrated instead on the problem with his current freelance assignment.

Still deep in thought, he opened the door and heard rather than felt his breath leaving in a hiss. Folders and papers slowly tumbled from his nerveless fingers as he contemplated the incomprehensible image before him.

In the middle of a sparsely furnished living room, on a soft Persian rug, stood a giant folding dog cage. Its occupant appeared to be asleep on a dark mauve cushion. As he cautiously approached the cage, the oak planks creaked and he stopped. The naked girl in the cage lifted her head and tilting it to the side, regarded him. Arching her back, she stretched gracefully and sat up. The tight black leather collar gleamed darkly against the pale skin. The name tag read Sephi.

“Uhhhm…” he swallowed, “Uhhm, I’m Rick. I…”

“Meow,” said Sephi.