It's been a long time, but the cats have found a reason to take time out of their busy nap 
schedules to demand that I translate another proper story about the true heroes of 
'Forever Knight' - the pets. Vivian provided the grooming, bossy dictation and mind 
games. Sabu provided the manly cat example and lurked on the back of my chair, 
observing every typed word. Emily provided the word EMPHASIS, lap warming and toy 
expertise.

This one is for Jules, Devo and Watson.

Disclaimers: Blah, blah, blah...not in the mood.

*****************************************************************
Sidney Lambert: Cold Nose, Warm Heart (1/6)
Copyright 2001
By Vivian, Sabu and Emily Rutledge
As Pantomimed to Bonnie Rutledge

     Natalie settled into one of the lounge chairs and swatted at a representative of the 
mosquitoes that had arrived to chew on the unwary as the July evening developed. 
Ankles momentarily rescued, she sent a concerned glance toward the Schankes' glass 
patio door and the forlorn face that gazed longingly back at her.

     "Maybe this was a bad idea," Natalie confessed, tilting her head up with a murmur for 
Nick's ears only. "Look at him! Sidney's miserable because he can't join us. I should 
have left him at the apartment."

     "He can handle it," Nick offered supportively. "You brought him here so he wouldn't 
have to be alone during the fireworks later. You're looking out for him."

     Natalie nodded half-heartedly, her chest twisting a little bit more as Sidney stretched 
out both his forepaws, plastering them against the glass, his posture defining unhappiness 
with this transparent barrier from the rest of the world. 

     It was Canada Day. When Don and Myra had invited a group of people from the 27h 
precinct to celebrate with a cookout at their house, Natalie had decided this would make a 
perfect opportunity for Nick to 'play human' for the night. Canada Day also happened to 
be Sidney's least favorite day of the year, followed closely by New Year's. The crash and 
cacophony of the celebrations unerringly spooked him until he was literally hanging from 
the ceiling by his claws, or at the very least, from the closest drapes. When she left him 
alone, the cat's panic always manifested itself much worse, so Natalie had brought him 
along to the barbecue with the Schankes' encouragement. Risking another look at that 
gray and white furry face, Nat experienced second thoughts. "I think I'm going to go talk 
to him."

     Nick grinned, amused at the subject of her fretting. "To Sidney?"

     "Um-hmm." She noticed Nick's expression as she rose to stand next to him, and she 
scowled. "Quit laughing. I know he can't understand me, not really. Sid's not human; 
he's a cat. But no one, not even, say...an eight hundred year old man...is going to tell me 
he's not soothed by the sound of my voice!"

     Nick assumed a look of pure earnestness. "Oh, I believe you. Your voice is very 
soothing right now." He couldn't help himself and slipped into teasing mode. "Calming, 
just like a hockey game or a traffic jam."

     "Just for that, I expect you to eat an entire burger tonight." She eyed him expectantly, 
waiting for a protest.

     "Don't look at me." Nick spread his arms at his side as he took her place on the lounge 
chair, not letting an ounce of his strain from his recent no-blood diet shine through. 
"Your voice has soothed me out of all argument." He gave Nat a mischievous smile, with 
extra teeth.

     "Oh, please," Natalie scoffed then went inside to converse with her pet.

******************************************************************

     It was all a terrible mistake. A miscarriage of justice, temporary insanity, or something 
much, much worse was to blame for bringing Sidney to this sad state of affairs.

     In fact, the more Sidney twitched his handsome white whiskers, the more he sniffed 
around the Barcalounger and inhaled the scent lingering about the slip-covered sofa, the 
more he was certain that he had unraveled the mystery. Something much, much worse 
WAS responsible for his entrapment in this foreign, improperly marked territory.

     It was a DOG.

     Sidney knew that such terrible creatures existed, though thankfully his close contact 
with those ANIMALS had been limited in his tender years to a few minor skirmishes at 
The Place You Get Shots. Sidney thought that DOGS were very funny looking, most of 
them brutish giants that were too stupid to communicate in proper, civilized cat tones. 
Rudeness personified, DOGS would push their big noses right on you, uncaring that such 
curiosity was only refined when the target was distracted or had given permission. 
Almost everything a DOG said came as a shouted command, not polite commentary. 
Everything was an emergency to a DOG. They bounced, they yelped, and they panted as 
though the world was coming to an end and the apocalypse was all a very good DOGGY 
idea. 

     They made Sidney very tense. He'd even heard stories, purrs and peeps shared 
through the tight bars of the prison cells at The Place You Get Shots that there were even 
some DOGS that liked to EAT CATS!!!

     The ANIMALS!!

     Sidney stared mournfully through the Invisible Wall at his Mom. She was talking with 
her friend, the man who smelled like old leather that she called 'Nick.' The cat tilted his 
nose in the air. He'd never completely trusted that funny-scented Nick. It had to be his 
fault. Nick had to be a DOG-LIKER who'd led Mom astray.


     Yes, Mom had betrayed him tonight. She'd offered him those crunchy treat morsels he 
really liked, and the second his senses were distracted, she'd shoved him into a closed 
plastic box. Next thing Sidney knew, he was here, at this DOG HOUSE.

     The feline refused to believe that his Mom had really known what trouble she was 
getting her handsome kitty boy into. She looked his way with a concerned face, the kind 
Sidney associated with Hide and Seek. He would curl up under a bed and nap because he 
liked the dark, and Mom would come home from The Dead Place, wanting to admire his 
catly perfection and sing him songs about how wonderful he was. Sometimes, just to 
tease her, Sidney would linger under the bed, playing hard to get. If he played too long, 
however, Mom would get that concerned face. When he unearthed into the light, she 
would scoop him into her arms and give him what he wanted all along - extra treats and 
back rubs.

     Sidney encouraged the concerned face, propping his paws on the Invisible Wall, 
stretching his lean body to its full height as he meowed the urgent news: "Hey! There's a 
DOG in here!"

     Mom approached, and Sidney performed a prance of victory. Joy communicated, he 
looked up at her with a perplexed stare, curious as to how she was going to pass the 
Invisible Wall and rescue him. She reached out, grasping a black handle floating in space 
far above his head, and pulled. Magically, the Invisible Wall slid to one side, providing 
room for Mom to walk through and join him. 

     Sidney had to admit he was impressed. This kind of knowledge was why he kept her 
around and let her think she was the boss cat. That, plus the supplies of treats and Q-tips 
she kept handy.

     Sidney did his dance of greeting, sashaying between her ankles as he interspersed his 
signs of welcome with a sternly worded lecture about the evils of Deceiving The Cat and 
Moving The Cat Without Permission.

     "How are you doing, Sid?" she purred as she bent down to his level and massaged 
between his ears.

     Head rubs were all fine and dandy when no crisis loomed, but now was not the time. 
 he exclaimed in succinct cat vocabulary.

     Natalie tilted her head as Sidney meowed sharply and began to pace the floor. "What's 
that you say?" she asked as though he might suddenly erupt in English prose and give her 
a play by play.
  
     Sidney, disbelieving that she couldn't understand, repeated himself slowly, drawing 
out the sound. 

     A small wave of guilt worked its way through Natalie at her pet's plaintive mewl. 
"Oh, I know, Sidney." She picked him up and hugged the cat to her chest. "You're 
unhappy. You're set in your ways, and you don't like the change, even if it's for your 
own good." Nat began to scratch under his chin, knowing that Sidney always enjoyed that 
attention. "But you don't need to be afraid. The Schankes are very glad you've come to 
visit. They're very nice, so let's relax and be friends, okay? Think of this as an adventure! 
Now where's Mr. Moo? You want to play with him, don't you?" She hunted around the 
Schankes' den for a moment, searching for the spot Sidney had knocked his favorite toy 
once he left his carrier. Natalie found her goal under an end table - a small stuffed 
longhorn she'd brought back for Sidney as a souvenir from a forensics conference in 
Texas. She called the toy Mr. Moo because it made that exact sound whenever she 
squeezed its middle or Sidney chomped down in a death bite as he wrestled with his 
plush foe. 

     Setting the toy in front of the feline, Nat tightened her grip, demonstrating the noise. 
"Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..." Normally, the cat would immediately seize its 
toy and begin to gnaw on its horns. Tonight, he seemed bored, merely stretching out one 
paw to token smote the stuffed steer on its fuzzy forehead before he began to circle the 
floor.

     It never failed to amaze Sidney how someone clever enough to vanquish an Invisible 
Wall could fail to smell the peril right under her nose. This was the other reason Sidney 
kept Mom around - she wasn't capable of managing all on her own. He hung his head and 
his limbs limply, defeated at the communication breakdown.

     Natalie interpreted Sidney's change in posture as calm and patted his head with relief. 
"That's my jolly good fellow. Keep Mr. Moo out of trouble. If you're *really* good, I'll 
sneak you some chicken later."

     Sidney sniffed at her odorless promises. Later, he could very well be DOG FOOD. 
The only chicken of any interest was the bird he could smell. Better yet, he liked the bird 
in his mouth. 

     Sidney whirled around suddenly, for while he'd been distracted by his self-righteous 
musings, Mom had pulled the Invisible Wall open again. A whisker too quick for him, 
she closed it before he could escape doom at her side. Feeling mighty sorry for himself, 
Sidney climbed atop the Barcalounger and began to compose a funeral dirge in his own 
honor.

     The sound of a door opening coupled with the jingling jangling of a light chain jolted 
Sidney into an alert pose. He dropped down into the seat of the chair, barely resting the 
tip of his nose on the arm as he watched and sniffed for additional clues about this arrival.

     A new voice appeared, female, but higher and louder in tone than Sidney's Mom. "I'm 
back! Dog's walked. He ate the neighbor's geraniums again!"

     Another voice came from a new direction, down the small hallway, this one male, but 
also yelling. Sidney suspected that this house was filled with barkers. "Did they see 
him?"

     "No!"

     "Then he didn't do it!"

     Though delivered in DOG tones, Sidney agreed with this wisdom. He had used the 
same argument many times with his Mom, but she always failed to comprehend the logic 
and fell into stern lectures instead of praising his feline intelligence.

     "Go on outside, Jen!" the male voice called. "The Stonetree kids are already here!"

     "Okay, Dad!"

     Sidney heard footsteps and paws move his way and bristled his fur. The DOG was 
coming closer, coming to get him. He could hear IT breathing a mile away.

     *pant* *Pant* *PANT*

     There it was in all its DOGGY disarray: tongue hanging out, a walk that was more 
toddled than sleek, wiry brown and white fur that hadn't seen a proper tongue-bath in 
hours, and claws that clicked-clicked rather than proceeded with shadow whispers. 
Compared to other such giants, this DOG was relatively short. From his vantage point on 
the Barcalounger, Sidney could pretend he was taller and therefore supreme.

     Sidney released a growl of authority. 

     The DOG stepped forward, the twinkling excitement in its eyes agreeing that it was 
thinking exactly what Sidney had been afraid he was thinking. 

     Sidney roared and spit indignantly, hunching his back in case the brute didn't get the 
message. 

     The DOG barked repeatedly, mocking Sidney's opinion, declaring him a chewy, tasty 
morsel.

     The high female voice broke in, complaining, "Columbo...be nice to the kitty."

     Sidney's eyes widened as he got a good look at the body holding the DOG'S leash, 
restraining it from swallowing him whole. She was smaller than he expected, too, and the 
sight filled Sidney with dread. His Mom had invited this sort to his territory before, one 
creature named Amy, the other called Cynthia. They held cats tightly, squeezing them to 
their chests so that a feline couldn't breathe. They were SIDNEY STRANGLERS!

     One horrible creature, Sidney could manage. Two was too much. Not only had Mom 
brought him to a DOG HOUSE, it also contained a LITTLE GIRL!!!!!

     Sidney leapt off the chair in a single bound and flashed down the hallway he'd heard 
sounds coming from earlier. He was running for his life, in search of higher ground, and 
once he found it he wasn't coming down, not for all the chicken in Canada.

********************************************************************

     The man in a dress shook his fist at Sidney and barked, "Hey! Offa there!" 

      Sidney responded in reasonable cat tones. He'd 
jumped his way to the top of the refrigerator, out of the reach of clutching hands, and he 
wasn't descending until the DOG and the LITTLE GIRL were GONE.

      The man in the dress turned his attention away from his cat harassment and turned to 
frown at a huge platter of raw meat on top of the stove that had come to the attention of 
Sidney's nose most intriguingly.

     "Man, oh, man! Did cat hair get on the burgers? Your Mom'll never lemme hear the 
end of it if something furry winds up on the Captain's plate, kiddo."

     The DOG had broken away from its LITTLE GIRL and chased Sidney into the 
kitchen, inspiring the leap of faith to his current position. She'd followed leisurely, 
despite the exclamations of the man in a dress. This casualness confirmed Sidney's 
opinion that LITTLE GIRLS were NOT TO BE TRUSTED.

     "Nope. Food's clean, Dad," the LITTLE GIRL answered once she'd arrived and taken 
time for a complete evaluation. "You got secret sauce on your new apron, though." She 
gave him a small, disappointed frown.

     The man glanced down at his dress and exclaimed without thinking, "Damn!" Then 
the man thought a little. Sidney could always tell when Mom's friends were thinking - 
their eyes stopped LOOKING and began move like marbles, sometimes flicking as 
though they shook in a bag, sometimes focused keenly ahead as though they were aiming 
at a target. Thought approved for construction, the man in a dress gave the LITTLE GIRL 
an abashed look. "Arn!" he declared in the next beat. "Damn-arn! Darn! That's what I 
said - Darn! I stained the apron my daughter made me - Darn, I say!" 

     Sidney found the man in a dress exceedingly emphatic.

     The LITTLE GIRL giggled. "Dad, you're so weird." Face sobering, she added, "Be 
normal in front of my friends, okay?"

     The man in a dress picked up the platter of meat and a few utensils and began to walk 
out of the kitchen. The LITTLE GIRL unfastened the DOG'S leash then appeared ready 
to leave as well. Sidney twitched in alarm. 

     The LITTLE GIRL seemed intelligent enough to receive the cat's telepathy and 
paused in the doorway. "Hey, Dad! Should we bring Columbo outside?"

     "Nah. He'll nose around the food. Leave him. He and Nat's cat can become buds."

     Sidney howled in protest, but they were already gone. Sidney inched forward along 
the cool surface of the appliance, sneaking a glance over the edge to the linoleum. The 
DOG was still glaringly present. It stared up at him, alert to his every movement. Sidney 
detected a hint of drool lining the beast's chops, the perfect glaze to the sentiment 
reflected in the DOG'S large, expressive eyes. 

     Sidney issued a proclamation comprised of outraged yowls and snippy chirps. 


     The DOG barked.  

     Sidney lifted a hind leg and began to style his bloomers nonchalantly. 

      It barked again.  The DOG rose clumsily on its hind legs, clattering at 
the front of the fridge with its paws amid a torrent of bow-wows. 

     Sidney flipped to his tiptoes as the appliance began to wobble slightly from the 
DOG'S determined agitation. He wasn't sure just how much of this short creature's 
threats was bravado, and how much was fact. He frowned at his bushy-bodied opposition, 
evaluating its potential bouncing skills. 

     The DOG settled back on its haunches, then wobbled in a circle before sitting again in 
the identical position.  It gave a DOGGY yawn. 

     Sidney began to casually groom one paw as he delivered his punchline of catly logic. 


     Columbo barked, made a snorting sound, then barked again.  Rather than diminish the DOG'S excitement, this information made 
him wiggle enthusiastically in place. 

      Sidney drew himself into his most regal posture. 

      Columbo quirked his head upward, the cat's declaration freezing the bobbing of his 
tail.  

     Sidney's meows were derisive. 

     Columbo lay down on his stomach, the cool linoleum tingling his belly. He flattened 
his head on his paws as he mused over the cat's words. Slowly, he peered upward 
soulfully. 

       Sidney snarled.

     Columbo rolled onto his back, demonstrating, in his opinion, an excellent spread of 
snowy belly fur.  The canine stared at 
the unapologetic feline a while longer, then rolled to his paws, ready for action.  With that 
promise, Columbo click-clacked his way out of the kitchen.

     Sidney settled back to grooming his paw amidst peace and quiet. There was no way 
that a DOG could find any activity that would be worth his interest.

********************************************************************
End of Part One

     Natalie set aside her drink, swatted at a few dozen more mosquitoes, and asked, 
"Schank? Did you see Sidney while you were inside? How's he doing?"

     "He's fine. Like a rock, there's no budging him." Schanke said with a breezy wave of 
his barbecue fork. "Now me, I almost had a heart attack when your cat sprang out of 
nowhere and leapt on top of the Frigidaire."

     "Sid jumped onto the refrigerator?" Natalie immediately tensed. "What happened? He 
only does that when he's stressed." Her voice rose in intensity. "Why was he stressed?"

     Schanke was back to casually waving his utensils. "No problemo, Nat. He just had 
a..." Now Schanke had an overlarge pair of tongs in his hand, and he waved them in a 
circle by his right temple. "...psychological problem meeting Columbo. Normal cat/dog, 
love/hate chemistry stuff."

     Natalie was out of her chair in a blink. "Maybe I should go check on him."

     Schanke corralled her with a protest. "No, no! The food's ready! Check after dinner!" 
He turned his calls to the other guests. "Get your fresh, hot burgers here! Chicken, 
Chicken! We've got chicken!"

      Natalie drifted back into her chair a minute later, a plate filled with a hamburger and a 
side of potato salad perched on her lap. She gazed in annoyance at her food, as though 
she didn't want it to be there. 

     Nick sat down soon after, the rarest burger Schanke could manage on coals ensconced 
within a bun on his plate, drowning in ketchup. A token pile of chips waited alongside. 
Nick had a beer in his other hand. He took a focused swig, turned his grimace into a 
smile, and turned to Natalie with a hopeful expression. "How's the food?"

     Nat looked blankly at her untouched plate, shaken from a private mental image of her 
cat hanging from the Schankes' drapes with no one to stop him. "Huh?" Remembering 
that she was supposed to set a good, mortal example, she picked up her bun with extra 
enthusiasm. "Just great! Dig in!"

     Meanwhile, Stonetree was reading Schanke's apron as he was served at the grill. 
"'Doing the Barbecue Polka.' That's cute. Did your kid make it?" he jibed.

     "Yeah, she did," Schanke said arrogantly as he slipped the Captain one puny, overly 
scorched burger on a squished roll.  Schanke thought as he brushed the front of his apron 
proudly. "She made it all by herself."

******************************************************************

     Sidney curled his head onto his paws after his tongue bath, deciding that a nap would 
be the best way to pass his time atop the refrigerator while he was ignoring the DOG. 
Columbo had other intentions. Sidney hardly had the opportunity to start dozing when his 
nemesis returned to the kitchen, heralded by a clicking of claws combined with a faint 
rustle.

     The cat's eyes cracked open at the first hint of sound. He couldn't see anything lying 
flat as he was, but Sidney had an imagination. The DOG had rolled something into the 
room. Perfectly ignorable. Sidney's eyes drifted shut again, and he went back to nurturing 
his favorite dream. 

     His vision involved a sunny field of grass, Mom's wool coat lying on one slope for 
him to snuggle upon when he tired of chewing greenery and chasing butterflies. After his 
nap, Sidney imagined he would wake to find a saucer filled with all the strawberry yogurt 
a cat could lick up, but the dream treat wouldn't upset his stomach. Each item was a 
fantasy - after all, Sidney lived in an apartment. Sunbeams and grass made for scarce 
treasures, and Mom had him on a strict diet - only CRUNCHY FOOD BEAST that Mom 
brought home in shiny bags ever touched his tummy. The only yogurt, the only wool coat 
naps that he sampled he had to sneak, and when Mom caught him, he earned a swift, 
disapproving lecture. 

     He knew she meant well, at least she said she did, and he felt true affection for her, 
though sometimes her actions mystified all cat definition. Like that soaking in water 
business - Mom would fill up an enormous bowl of hot water in the room where she kept 
the Q-tips hidden, then she would strip off her fur and sit in it! On purpose! A real cat 
would never do that. 

     Sidney supposed that was the trouble - Mom could sometimes understand cats well, 
but she wasn't really a cat, only honorary, so sometimes her opinion of what was best 
didn't match his own. Sometimes she had really bad ideas - like this visit to the DOG 
HOUSE.

     Columbo continued to make the rolling noise, the sound slightly more interesting now 
because of its duration. Sidney's whiskers twitched, and he ordered his eyelids to 
remained closed. 

     Sidney held out for another minute, but a thought crystallized in his head that caused 
his eyes to snap open.  He relaxed faintly as he 
questioned that alarming thought. 

     Succumbing to the intrigue, Sidney surreptitiously stretched out his forearms toward 
the edge of the refrigerator. Digging in his claws, he pulled his body along the surface 
while he kept his face languidly aimed at the ceiling. 

     It was all an act. When he'd pulled as close to the edge as his paws would take him, 
Sidney stretched out his neck and casually pivoted one furry cheek toward the floor for a 
peek.

     The DOG was playing with a blue ball.

     Sidney knew he should turn over and carry on with his nap. He'd solved the mystery, 
so he should be satisfied and sleepy. On the contrary, he simply couldn't look away. The 
DOG'S spectacle of activity had hypnotized him, and his eyes flicked as they followed 
Columbo's path.

     Columbo was walking around the kitchen. More than that, he waddled, his legs and 
rear weaving an abbreviated swing as he traveled. He was intent. He was focused. He had 
his head tucked low, but his neck stretched out so that only the tip of his nose touched the 
blue ball. He kept in constant contact with the toy, rolling it along the linoleum in an 
attempt to perfect the art of perpetual motion.

     Sidney shook his head. The DOG had woven so many circles while he watched that 
Sidney had begun to feel dizzy. Columbo reminded him of one of those creatures he had 
seen on television - a trained seal - only the DOG had been tilted forward ninety degrees. 
He was funny to watch for a while, but now Sidney began to question. 

     When Sidney played with things that moved, one of Mom's test tube racks for 
example, the purpose of the exercise wasn't in the PUSHING, but in the WATCHING. 
Yes, it was delightful to prod, poke, and nudge the rack of test tubes until they teetered 
precariously on the ledge of the kitchen counter, but a cat found REAL FUN by 
observing the rack hurtle to the floor, by identifying what happened upon impact. See, 
sometimes things broke, sometimes they fluttered like leaves to the tiles below, and 
sometimes they bounced. It was mystical. It was magical. It was scientific. Play was all a 
great experiment. The DOG had stalled in the 'setting up your equipment' phase. He 
obviously needed the help of cat wisdom so that the learning could begin.

      Sidney announced.

     Columbo's voice was muffled and distracted as he tried to converse without 
interrupting his rolling procedure. 

     Sidney arched his kitty brows. 

      Columbo straightened, then made an emergency inspection of his tail. From 
the cat's tone, he'd expected to find that it had fallen off or caught on fire while he wasn't 
looking. False alarm - Columbo thought his tail appeared perfectly nubby and chipper.

     Suddenly, Columbo realized that the cat had distracted him and ruined his rolling 
rhythm. His blue ball sat still and unmoving on the kitchen floor. Columbo yipped in 
annoyance. 

      Sidney moved to sit in a regal position. 

      Columbo barked.  He peered speculatively up at the length of the cat's voluminous fur. 


      Sidney sniffed.  The cat squeezed his eyes 
shut, experiencing a brief, horrible flashback. He'd been shaved once in his life - he'd 
woken up after THE OPERATION to find important things sore and bald. The cat 
suppressed a shiver and said, 

     Columbo cocked his head to the side and wiggled his ears contemplatively. 

     Sidney began to pace his disturbance atop the refrigerator.  he spat.  Sidney froze and released a chain of 
mournful meows. 

     Columbo didn't mind being accused of doggy ways. After all, he was a dog.  he barked, mimicking his Dad,  Another thought 
struck the dog, and he propped his forepaws indignantly against the fridge and gave it a 
good mopping of claws. 

      Sidney explained slowly, as though he was talking to a 
tiny kitten. 

     Columbo didn't understand the cat's logic. 

      Sidney shuffled forward, folding his paws over the ledge of the refrigerator 
in a facsimile of the wisest sphinx. 

     Columbo frowned, suspecting a trick question, but incapable of seeing the tricky 
answer. 

      Sidney rolled his eyes.  Sidney conveniently brushed aside 
the fact that he HAD been impressed as he watched the DOG, choosing to meow instead, 
 Sidney leapt to his paws and gave a few practice swipes with 
his claws. 
  
      Columbo sighed. He began to roll the ball once more, only more quickly.

      Sidney shouted, appalled at the DOG'S technique.  Sidney 
demonstrated for Columbo with a swift pantomime. 

     All of the cat's talk of bombs, injured snouts and limb-losing had Columbo's stomach 
flipping nervously. 

     Sidney danced a catly pirouette before settling luxuriously on one side to groom a 
paw.  He stretched out one paw 
imperiously. 

     Columbo tried, mainly to get the cat to stop complaining. He tried to jab and weave, 
but he wasn't a spring puppy anymore. He couldn't quite manage to pounce like a cat, 
and he'd never been one for swift jabs with his paws as much as deadly snapping with his 
teeth. His aggravation with the game mounting, Columbo became sorely tempted to seize 
the blue ball between his jaws and chew it into oblivion, but he could already foresee the 
cat shrieking that he wasn't allowed to eat the bomb as he spouted more imagery 
featuring carnage.

     His growing impatience generated feistiness in the canine that he usually reserved for 
games of 'pull the rope.' Columbo uttered a rascally bark, managed a halfway aerobatic 
sproing, landed within stretching distance of the blue-rubber-ball-cum-deadly-explosive, 
and smacked it wholeheartedly with a furry fist. Panting with satisfaction, Columbo 
watched as it zipped across the floor, away from him with lightning speed.

    The blue ball rolled unhindered over the linoleum, directly into the crack between the 
refrigerator and the stove.

     Columbo looked up at the cat in horror. 

      Sidney pranced in victory, as though he'd done all the actual work. 
 Sidney sat, 
instructing good-naturedly, 

     Columbo blinked, licked his chops contemplatively, then blinked again. 

     Sidney propped his whiskered cheek casually against one plush, grey arm. 

     Columbo, miffed at the cat's lack of distress, sniffed intently at the alley between the 
appliances that his favorite toy had vanished into and said nothing. He scratched one paw 
as far as he could within the darkness, retrieving only a broken sliver of dried pasta from 
his family's dinner the night before. He glanced up and found that the cat had 
audaciously turned onto his other side and had resumed his napping. Columbo released 
an outraged growl. 

      the cat said sleepily. 

     Columbo felt his rage boil as he observed the cat yawn and settle into a satisfied 
snooze. He mused for a moment on the idea of other toys, but none of his own quite whet 
his dog whistle. Columbo's ears twitched and his nose flexed as he unearthed a 
mischievous plan.  he promised ominously as he left 
kitchen. 

     Sidney responded with a carefree snore.

*****************************************************************

     Sidney didn't notice when the DOG returned to the kitchen. He was too busy sleeping, 
fantasizing about his grassy field and strawberry yogurt. It took a sound to twist his 
dream into a nightmare, to snap him out of his slumber in the vain hope that the terrible 
image was only an illusion. The sound came again, making Sidney leap to his paws in 
dismay.

     "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..."

     Sidney hooked his paws over the ledge of the fridge and searched the floor below. He 
closed his eyes in denial then looked again.

     "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..."

     The DOG had taken Mr. Moo hostage - SIDNEY'S MR. MOO!!! Columbo had the 
stuffed steer clamped between his ferocious DOGGY jaws, making SIDNEY'S toy groan 
in agony.

     "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..."

      Sidney meowed hotly. 

      Columbo merely shook the toy within his jaws with a death snap, then stared up at 
Sidney as the plush steer dangled from his mouth. His brown eyes glowed with 
happiness, as if to say, 

     It struck Sidney speechless.

     Columbo paraded in a circle about the kitchen, Mr. Moo displayed proudly between 
his teeth. Then, looking suspiciously purposeful, he marched out of the room again.

     Sidney didn't know what to think. Was the DOG following his command, putting Mr. 
Moo back where he had found him? 

     Several authoritative barks sounded from the den, soon followed by the sliding sound 
that Sidney now associated with the Invisible Wall. The cat picked out the sound of the 
man in a dress talking and the DOG making conversational noises. The Invisible Wall 
made its sliding sound again, then silence loomed.

     Sidney couldn't stand it. He had to see what had become of Mr. Moo. He slinked off 
of the refrigerator to the edge of the stove, then bounced to the floor. Moving at a sleek 
jog, Sidney ran into the den, keeping an eye out for the stray remains of a stuffed steer, 
ripped to shreds by a barbaric DOG.

     He found nothing.

     Tiptoeing up to the Invisible Wall, Sidney peered outside. He had a rear view of the 
DOG, could see him greeting people, making his rounds as though he was Mr. 
Popularity. At first, there was no sign of Sidney's Mom or Mr. Moo. She returned to her 
chair just as the DOG departed. Sidney couldn't decide which part bothered him more: 
that Mom feasted on chicken while he SUFFERED indoors, or that he'd finally 
discovered what Columbo was doing to Mr. Moo. The DOG was haphazardly rolling the 
stuffed steer away as though it was round and made of rubber. Mom, meanwhile, was too 
busy talking with her friend Nick and stockpiling chicken. She hadn't even noticed!

     Sidney scratched against the Invisible Wall with rising panic, ignoring any 
resemblance between his behavior and the DOG'S earlier pawing at the face of the 
refrigerator. Columbo was rolling Mr. Moo, and he was getting away!

      Sidney wailed. 

     Sidney thought the situation couldn't get any worse, but he swiftly discovered that he 
was wrong. The DOG paused at a grassy, isolated corner of the yard, then pointedly 
looked over his shoulder, straight at Sidney. That's when Sidney realized that the DOG 
had truly DIRE DOGGY PLANS in store for Mr. Moo.

     The cat raced around the den, unable to bear the strain of sitting still. He didn't want 
to watch, but, drawing alongside the Invisible Wall again, curiosity compelled him to 
watch the horrific scene unfold.

     Columbo dug in the yard, working steadily, sinking one sturdy paw into the ground 
after another. Once he'd burrowed a healthy dent into the surface, the DOG turned 
businesslike attention back to the waiting toy and picked the stuffed steer up in his jaws. 
Leaning over the hole, Columbo opened his mouth. Not pausing to watch how the steer 
plopped and tumbled to a standstill within the makeshift pit, the DOG proceeded to dig 
the dirt he'd disturbed back into place without further ado. 

     Sidney crossed his eyes and tried to not faint from the shock.

     Columbo had BURIED Mr. Moo!!!!!!!

****************************************************************
End of Part Two

     Schanke recognized the familiar bark, set down his beer, and approached the patio 
door. "You're ready to join the party, huh, boy?" He spared a glance at the wife. Myra 
scanned their guests, noting that most had either finished eating, or they were working on 
seconds. Deeming it a dog-safe environment, she sent her husband a nod. Approval 
granted, Schanke opened the door, and Columbo marched outside.

     Schanke noticed that the dog had dropped something out of his mouth and crouched 
down for a better look as he rubbed the terrier's head. "What's this, BoBo? Did Nat's cat 
lend you one of his toys? Are you sharing?" Schanke interpreted Columbo's happy pant 
as a 'yes.' He scratched his dog's rump for a moment, then patted him on his way as he 
slid the patio door closed again. "Good boy! Now go say 'hello' to Dad's friends!"

     Columbo barked in agreement and proceeded to tumble the stuffed steer along the 
ground through the legs of the guests.

****************************************************************

     Nick was less than content with the version of steer camped out on his cardboard 
plate. He nudged at the remains of his hamburger with a reluctant finger, his distaste 
marking his features. He'd managed to down three bites so far under Nat's watchful eye, 
but his stomach and taste buds rebelled against any further efforts. 

     Natalie had stepped away for a few moments to sample some of Schanke's grilled 
chicken. Nick knew that she'd expect to see some progress on his plate by the time she 
came back, but he could list a thousand things he'd rather do, starting with laundering 
Schank's socks and ending with juggling the Tiki torches blindfolded.

     He sat back in his chair, resolving that he wouldn't take another bite, even if it 
disappointed Natalie. He'd tried, hadn't he? He'd chewed and swallowed a *third* of his 
burger! Two potato chips! Half a beer! It amounted to more mortal food than he'd ever 
downed in one vampire sitting. Wasn't that a victory? What did Natalie want from him?

      his conscience reminded him. Nick twisted his mouth, 
willing the hamburger to spontaneously vanish into thin air.

     His second best wish came true - the Schankes' dog dropped by for a visit.

     Nick had always been a dog person. If he had to choose among animal companions - 
though he hadn't had one for a long time - canines would come first. He'd learned the 
hard way how difficult it was for a vampire to have a pet, but he couldn't deny the easy 
affection he felt for dogs. It was their sense of unconditional acceptance that he craved, 
and the harsh pain of losing an animal friend that prevented him from ever traveling 
down that road again.

     Visiting with his partner's dog, however, was an acceptable luxury. Nick brightened 
as he looked down at Columbo's hopeful face. The Jack Russell tilted his nose upward, 
sniffed with interest at Nick's plate, before he ducked his head to nudge at Nick's leg as a 
form of polite question.

     Nick broke into an unabashed grin. "You've come to rescue me, eh, Columbo? You 
like hamburger?" The vampire tousled the dog's ears. "Even the bun?"

     Columbo snapped his teeth in enthusiastic anticipation and broke into a panting grin. 
Nick ripped the remains of his burger into pieces and fed them to the dog one bite at a 
time, keeping a lookout for Natalie's return in between treats. When his hamburger was a 
memory, Nick parsed his gaze between the meager remains of his mortal meal and the 
dog's still-joyous and covetous expression. "Do you like potato chips?"

     Columbo wiggled in place.

     "Okay, then..." Nick said, trusting the canine's word.

     When his plate was empty, Nick held his arms out at his sides. "All gone." The 
vampire leaned over and scratched between the dog's ears again. "Thanks for your help," 
Nick said solemnly.

     Less solemnly, Columbo tilted his chin up and began to lick Nick's hand. The vampire 
chuckled as he petted the dog encouragingly. Columbo interpreted this as an open 
invitation, propped his front paws up on Nick's knee, and immediately attempted some 
face-licking. "Okay, okay! I get it! You liked the food! Down, boy! Easy on the nose!"

     Columbo sat back on his haunches, still grinning with a happy dog face.

     Out of the corner of his vamp vision, Nick noticed Nat returning from the grill. 
"Sorry, Columbo," Nick told the dog conspiratorially, "but I need you to make tracks. If 
Nat gets a whiff of your beef breath, she'll immediately figure out what we did."

     Columbo made a soft bark of seeming agreement, tucked his head closely to the 
ground, and began to move slowly toward the trellised back fence.

      Nick assumed an innocent smile of welcome as Natalie began to settle in her chair 
anew, deliberately taking a brave swallow from his half-empty beer. "How's the 
chicken?" he asked conversationally.

     "Fabulous! I'm afraid I took too much," Natalie said ruefully. "I did promise Sidney a 
nibble if he behaved, though." She appeared thoughtful as she mulled over ideas of how 
to palm off portions of her overfilled plate. "I don't suppose you'd try..." Natalie was 
struck speechless as she finally noticed the status of Nick's plate. "Nick!" she exclaimed.

     "Yes, Nat?" he said hesitantly. Nick thought she sounded pleased, but he couldn't be 
100% certain.

     "You cleaned your plate! That's wonderful! I never expected you to manage it all!" 
She sent him an exuberant grin, clearly bemused by his accomplishment.

     Nick, on the other hand, was feeling increasingly deceptive. "You didn't expect me to 
eat everything?"

     "Of course not! Just a few bites would make progress!" Natalie assured him breezily. 
"But you ate the *whole* thing! Even the chips! Nick!" she exclaimed again, squeezing 
his arm. "You really are trying!"

     "Uhm...yeah, Nat...about that..." Nick's gaze slipped guiltily in the direction of 
Columbo's retreating form.

     Hearing his confessional tone, Natalie's eyes followed his lead.  "Nick!" Her delivery of his name had transformed into something 
very accusatory. "You didn't! Tell me you didn't sneak your food to the dog!"

     "I *did* try, Nat. I ate all that I could. You said you didn't expect me to finish it all," 
he reminded her.

     "I also didn't expect you to *deceive* me about it!" Natalie countered, her voice 
almost a hiss. "And to use *the dog*! Nick, how could you!? And Columbo...did it even 
occur to you that so much meat might be bad for his diet?"

     Nick gave a perplexed frown in the terrier's direction. "But dogs are carnivores...You 
were going to give Sidney chicken..."

     "That's not the point!" Natalie's feelings were hurt, and it was making her irrational. 
"The point is, you can't treat other creatures like that, you can't treat people like that, not 
if you want to become mort-" Natalie caught herself before she said 'mortal,' and 
lowered her voice to a furious whisper. "Not if you want to change."

     Nick glanced away from her hard stare. "I'm sorry, Nat. I only meant to..." His eyes 
were aimed in the direction of the patio door, and an unexpected sight rendered him 
momentarily speechless. "Nat?"

     "What?" she snapped mutinously.

     "Look at Sidney. I think he's having a fit."

     "What?!" Natalie's gaze traveled after his again. What she witnessed caused her to 
gasp. "Oh my god!"

     From their vantage spot on the patio, it looked, for all intents and purposes, as though 
Sidney was *flinging* himself at the handle of the sliding glass door, like he expected to 
push it open through sheer brute cat force.

     "He'll hurt himself!" Natalie cried as she rushed to soothe her cat. 

     Nick followed, concerned for the welfare of both Natalie and her pet. 

     As soon as Natalie slid the door ajar, crooning, "It's okay, Sid," the cat literally 
climbed up her, meowing non-stop. "Ow!" Natalie exclaimed, a little less indulgent. 
Sidney had used his claws as he scaled her legs and torso to plop into an indignant fuzzy 
pile atop her right shoulder, leaving little rips in her clothes and flesh as souvenirs of his 
visit. "Ow!" she repeated again, Sidney was still digging his claws into her shoulder as he 
hung on, screeching a string of feline curses, and growling at something lurking behind 
Natalie's back. "Sid, stop that! Ow!"

     "Let me take him," Nick offered gallantly and proceeded to pry the cat's claws out of 
his owner's flesh. 

     Once he realized his hind legs were dangling in midair, Sidney began to squirm like a 
greased piglet. His howls of outrage intensified as he twisted around within Nick's grip. 
The vampire didn't hold on as firmly as he could have, or should have, worried that he 
might inadvertently injure the cat with his superior strength. Once Sidney had turned 
fully to face his captor, baring fanged teeth and a hissing glare, Nick had second 
thoughts.

     That's when the fur really hit the fan.

*********************************************************************

     Freed from imprisonment by the Invisible Wall, Sidney raised the alarm. 

     Mom continued to repeat the syllable, "Ow!"

      Sidney wailed encouragingly. 

     But suddenly, an invisible force pulled him away from his perch where he could shout 
into his Mom's ear.  Sidney squirmed and struggled. He had to break 
free, he had to escape the clutches of this monster and rescue Mr. Moo from the EVIL 
PLAN of the DOG!  Sidney yelled as he twisted and turned. Suddenly, his 
captor wasn't invisible. Suddenly he could see exactly what kind of misbegotten creature 
had the poor sense to hold him prisoner.

     It was Nick.

      Sidney hissed accusingly.

     "Calm down, Sidney," Nick said. "We're friends, right?"

     "Hmph," Sidney replied as he got a good whiff of the stench coming off of his 
captor's hands.  he continued in cat verbiage. 

     Nick continued to irritate Sidney with foolish sentiments. "You're upsetting Natalie. 
You don't want that, do you?"

      Sidney insisted.  He hissed 
and spat a bit more, growing weary of trying to reason with a  DOG-LIKER, especially a 
COLD-HANDED DOG-LIKER.  Sidney insulted his 
captor,  he concluded, ignoring the fact that a cat's moist and dainty 
nose could often feel cold to the touch, no different from a canine's.  Sidney reared with a mighty swipe, scratching as deeply as his sharp 
claws allowed across Nick's face.

******************************************************************

     "Ow!" Nick dropped the cat in favor of covering his face with his hands, wondering 
over the sensation of this new type of injury. The cat sprang away, determinedly set upon 
his mission.

     "Nick, are you okay?" Natalie pried back one of Nick's hands and grimaced at the 
sight of the ragged, bloody marks. If Sidney had gone after a mortal like that, it would 
have left permanent scars. "I don't know what's gotten into Sidney!"

     "I'd say he's upset about *something,*" Nick replied sarcastically. "Don't worry 
about me. I'll heal in a minute. Let's find out what Sidney's doing, and Nat...?"

     "Yes, Nick?"

     "I know he's your cat, but to be on the safe side, let me risk the scratches."

     Nick swiftly picked the cat's progress out from the crowd. Sidney had run to a back 
corner of the yard, where the Schankes' dog played. As they rushed closer, he saw the cat 
sneak up behind Columbo and bite the terrier's tail. The dog immediately snapped back, 
forcing the cat to dodge out of the way on a trail of furious squalling. Angry barking 
retorted. Everything growled.

     The sounds brought Schanke's attention as well, and he arrived at the scene of the 
animal's altercation simultaneously with Nick and Natalie. "Columbo! Cut that out! 
Here!"

     The dog reluctantly approached, settling halfway on top on one of Don's shoes with a 
'poor-me' expression. Sidney ignored his owner. Once the dog wasn't a threat, he moved 
purposefully to a recently disturbed patch of ground and began to scratch at the surface.

     Natalie crouched for a better look. "What's there, Sid?" Noting that her cat appeared 
less upset now, simply focused, she reached out to pet him lightly.

    "Careful, Nat," Nick cautioned. His nose felt smooth again, his was injury healed, but 
he hadn't forgotten so quickly how it had *felt* to be shredded like a piece of tissue 
paper.

     Sidney accepted her attention, but he didn't look up from his scratching.

     "The cat's not having a litter box moment, is he?" Schanke asked baldly.

     "I don't think so. In fact..." Natalie caught view of something dingy and off-white 
barely poking out of the ground. "...Oh dear." She grabbed the pale object and pulled. In 
a shower of falling dirt, a now-grungy stuffed animal appeared. Natalie squeezed the toy. 
No sound emerged. "Poor Mr. Moo."

     Seeing that she had rescued his steer, Sidney began to prance, weaving happily around 
Natalie's legs and rubbing his cheeks against the plush animal dangled between her 
fingers. 

     "No wonder Sidney went ballistic," Natalie reasoned. "He saw Columbo burying Mr. 
Moo."

     "Hey, Nat, I'm sorry about the dog and everything. I saw him playing with the cow, 
but I never dreamed he'd dump the sucker in a hole! Bad dog!" Schanke chided, while 
Columbo gazed up at him incomprehensibly.

     "It's okay. He was just being a dog, Schank." Nat noticed that Sidney had settled 
beside Mr. Moo and had begun to groom one horn clean. "Sid! Ugh!" She stood, taking 
the stuffed steer with her. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this," she said in an 
aside to Nick. "I don't think I can get it clean enough for Sid to play with again. It's a 
shame, but I'll have to throw Mr. Moo away. This was Sid's favorite toy. Oh, well, I'll 
just give him extra rations of Q-tips for a few days, and he'll change his mind."

     Nick glanced down at the cat, who kept bouncing up on his hind legs to poke a paw at 
the stuffed steer, then he rubbed his nose on a thoughtful memory. He wasn't as 
convinced as Nat that Sidney would give up Mr. Moo so easily. "Uh, Nat? Why are you 
whispering?"

    "So Sidney doesn't hear. Would you mind trashing Mr. Moo for me? I'll distract him 
with some chicken."

     Nick stared at the stuffed animal as Natalie handed it over, feeling uncertain. He 
looked from her expectant face to the cat's, then murmured a low, "Sure, Nat."

     As Nick moved toward the house, he heard Sidney mewl at his departure with Mr. 
Moo. He heard Natalie begin to lecture the cat. "If you want to stay outside, Sid, you'll 
have to be good. Leave Columbo alone." Schanke followed with his own command. 
"Right! Dogs on the right side of the yard, cats on the left! Everybody to your corners!"

     Nick noticed that his shoulders had tensed involuntarily. Mr. Moo drew his eyes as he 
walked, and he noted its features: vinyl horns punctured with teeth marks, the black and 
dusty hooves, the fuzzy brown-tipped tail, a wound in the stitching on the underside of 
the steer's neck that now seeped polyester fiber. Nick reminded himself that it was just a 
toy. A cat could get along without a toy.

     Captain Stonetree caught his attention, and Nick found himself reporting about the 
cat/dog conflict.

     "Any victims, Knight?" the captain joked.

     He waved Mr. Moo in the air. A shred of its filling drifted free, wafting to the grass. 
"Just a bum steer."

     Stonetree laughed then commented to two fellow officers and their wives, "That's 
why I keep tropical fish."

     Nick excused himself and wandered into the house. He went to the Schankes' kitchen, 
his toy-filled hand hovering over their garbage can, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't let 
go. Nick thought of the affection Sidney felt for the toy, and guilt kicked at him. He 
stepped back from the garbage, and he turned and walked out of the kitchen, toward the 
front door. 

     Natalie didn't believe that Mr. Moo could be cleaned, and she was ready to give up on 
him. Nick wanted to at least try to make the toy better, for Sidney's sake.

     Mr. Moo spent the rest of the night stuffed into the Cadillac's glove compartment.

*********************************************************************
End of Part Three

     Sidney experienced grave suspicions when he observed Nick, the DOG-LIKER, 
walking back into the DOG HOUSE with custody of Mr. Moo. To top it off, Mom 
sounded as though she was irritated with *him,* not the DOG, not the DOG-LIKER, but 
SIDNEY! Her very own JOLLY GOOD FELLOW! Sidney was stymied as to what to 
make of that.

     Once Mom left him with strict orders to stay on the left side of the backyard, or he 
would suffer A Fate Worse Than Shots, Sidney decided to practice the CRAFT OF 
BEING A CAT.  he assured himself. 

     For a petulant moment, Sidney indulged the idea of running away. A trellis lined the 
back fence, supporting tea roses and sweet pea blossoms. Sidney could climb over it and 
snatch freedom in an instant, before Mom could so much as say she was sorry for not 
appreciating his state of boy cat majesty.

     A firefly flickered overhead, derailing Sidney's train of thought. He leapt, stretching 
his right paw as far as possible, swiping at the bobbing light.  Sidney dramatized, 


     The fictitious heavenly firmament was in luck that evening. Though he attempted for 
an hour, Sidney never quite managed to pull down one of their number.

*******************************************************************
     
     When Dad barked, "Bad dog!' in a lecturing command, Columbo hadn't a clue what 
he was talking about. Dad had ordered him to sit, hadn't he? Columbo was sitting. What 
was the problem?

     Columbo shook his fur, suspecting that his Dad's confusion probably derived from 
more of the cat's deceit. That cat was a pretty sneaky customer, convincing a dog to lose 
his favorite toy forever and ever. It was only fair that he'd buried the Moo-toy. The cat 
had only experienced a brief separation, not Columbo's interminable longing for his blue 
ball.

     Columbo grinned up at Nick as he took control of the moo-thing. Columbo liked Nick, 
because he was the kind of person who fed a dog. Not just scraps or plate licks, mind you 
- Nick even gave a dog the good bits that most people hoarded for themselves. Columbo 
was glad he wound up with Sidney's toy. He had faith that Nick's guarding made it as 
good as buried. 

     Columbo sent Sidney an aggressive look, but the cat was too busy whining to notice. 
Columbo panted gleefully as Sidney's person began to fuss at him. Unfortunately, his 
Dad got in on the act, ordering him to stay on the right side of the yard and leave the cat 
alone. 

     Columbo didn't understand why he was the one who had to tolerate the cat. This was 
HIS home, after all. Sidney had gate crashed his territory, not the other way around, yet 
he was expected to be patient and make allowances. Columbo sighed, then settled into a 
comfortable curl under his favorite tree.

     After a few minutes, something made his nose twitch. Columbo went on alert, 
scanning the night air expectantly. 

     There it was! A tiny light, dodging in front of his face! 

     It was a bug!

     CHOMP!

     He missed, but that didn't matter. Columbo enjoyed chomping for its own sake.

     CHOMP!

     Miss.

     CHOMP!

     Miss.

     CHOMP!

      Columbo smacked his tongue several times to rid it of the buggy aftertaste. 
 Still...

     CHOMP!

     It was a fun way to pass an hour.

********************************************************************

     After an hour, Sidney lost interest in playing with the bugs, a.k.a. the flying stars. At a 
conveniently frustrated moment, something interesting darted over his left paw, causing 
him to jump three feet in the air out of surprise.

     Sidney landed in a crouch, like a mighty lion hunting a wildebeest in the veldt.

      Sidney asked the night wind. 

      A whisper-slither parted a small sprouting of the grass before his eyes. Sidney jumped 
again, this time in a spasm of excitement.

      Sidney declared dramatically for the benefit of the flying stars, a.k.a. the 
bugs. 

     Actually, it was a run-of-the-mill, little green lizard. Sidney, however, was further 
indulging the CRAFT OF BEING A CAT. Battling dinosaurs sounded oh-so-much-more 
impressive.

     Sidney hunched his shoulders in a pre-pounce position, tensing the muscles of his 
arms, prepping them to spring mightily upon the vicious reptile. His eyes darted over the 
grass, scanning for further movement from his prey.  He bobbed his head. Up 
ahead, a waving of virid blades revealed a scaly tail making its escape.

      Sidney announced, wiggling his rump in exposition of 
his plans.

     Sidney sprang. Sidney landed just behind the squirming body of the ferocious 
dinosaur. He opened his jaws and...

******************************************************************

     CHOMP!

      Columbo waggled his tongue. Bug eating was taking its toll, and a faint trace 
of foam lined his lips, suggesting that dogs weren't meant to live on a staple of fireflies. 
Chasing the hamburger and chips in his belly, his stomach was nicely rounded and 
gurgling from the variety of atypical foods. Columbo resolved to ignore all the sparkly 
bugs, even if they were fun to chomp. His taste buds needed a nap. In fact, his body could 
use a nap, too. Columbo circled and settled in a comfy spot on the back lawn intending 
just that. His furry chin resting on his forepaws, he gave a contented yawn-sigh and 
closed his eyes.

     A flicker-slide disturbed the grass in front of his nose. Columbo's eyes darted open 
halfway as he sniffed the night air for clear information.  He 
sniffed a few more times, sorting through his scent memories.  His eyes 
opened fully, and he pushed his body to sit at attention. 
He circled with excitement.  His tail cycled like a hyper 
windshield wiper. 

     Columbo's tummy echoed his thought, making a dubious sound. The dog looked 
down, aiming his nose between his front legs.  

     Columbo crouched following his nose as he aimed his body in the proper direction. 
Keeping his stomach flat against the ground, he shuffled forward a body length, keeping 
his eyes attuned for any lizardesque movement.

     Up ahead, he picked out another whip-like wiggle straight ahead. Columbo poised 
himself, tilting his head forward slightly.

     Columbo bounced. He landed just in front of the squirming body of the chewy, 
yellow-bellied green lizard. He opened his jaws and...

************************************************************
  
     Sidney chomped the lizard.

     Columbo chomped the lizard.

     Cat and dog would up cold nose touching cold nose, the front half of the reptile 
wriggling in Columbo's mouth, the back half wriggling in Sidney's.

     Things did not bode well for the lizard.

     Both animals were surprised at their sudden proximity. Sidney froze, his back arched 
and ears flattened, digging his claws into the ground. Columbo let go of his half of the 
lizard, recalling his Dad's firm instructions. He darted backward, expressing a chain of 
barks that swore up and down, 

     Sidney's source of astonishment diverted for a moment as he suddenly found an entire 
lizard - ahem, DINOSAUR - dangling from his lips by the tail. He ducked his head as 
though to get a better look at it, then sniffed as the creature moved an equal distance 
away from view. Sidney tried again, but the DINOSAUR remained crafty. Sidney glared 
at the yipping DOG, suspected that Columbo had encouraged the reptile to be difficult by 
example.

     The lizard, sensing the arrival of a lucky break, capitalized on it. He shed his tail. 

     Columbo stopped barking long enough to look at what the cat was doing. He watched 
the lizard's front half plop away from Sidney and wriggle toward the fence, slipping 
underneath to the outside territory. Columbo would have followed, but the escape 
unfolded on the cat's side of the yard. The boundaries may have prevented him from 
chasing, but they didn't stop him from taunting. Taunting was free airspace activity. 


     Sidney wanted to make a retort, but that would mean letting go of the trophy tail in his 
mouth. He issued a small growl instead, then raced off to find Mom so he could tattle 
how the DOG broke his lizard - ahem, DINOSAUR.

********************************************************************
     
     Natalie hadn't completely gotten over Nick's deception with the hamburger. She gave 
him a bit of the silent treatment, turning her back slightly to converse instead with Myra 
about her job's new line of bath salts, leaving Nick to stare moodily at the last third of his 
beer.

     Nat was on the verge of placing an order for Skin Pretty's 'Passionfruit Cleansing 
Experience' when she felt the familiar press of a soft paw on her leg. Her response began 
as warm and welcoming. "Hello, Sid! What's handsome doing?" Natalie glanced down to 
see what her cat wanted. She found him staring up at her proudly, the tail of an 
unfortunate animal swinging from his mouth, still wriggling with the spasmodic echo of 
life. The welcome in her voice transformed into horror. "Sid! Ugh!" Seeing him start to 
chew, threatening to finish off the bit of reptile, Natalie jumped out of her chair and went 
straight to the upbraiding. "Stop that! Drop that right now, young man!"

     Nick stopped staring at his beer bottle to see what had caused Natalie to sound so 
indignant and appalled. "What did Sidney do?"

    "I'll tell you what he's not doing - he's not eating that lizard!" First Natalie bent over, 
intent on snatching the tail fragment from Sidney's jaws. The cat dodged his head from 
side to side, expertly playing keep away. "Why do you have to make everything so 
difficult?!" Natalie demanded in exasperation. She picked Sidney up around his middle. 
"Drop it!" Finding his feet off the ground, Sidney let his body hang in dead weight like a 
transported kitten. His mouth, however, remained tightly clamped. "Drop it!" Natalie 
repeated, her voice rising. "Do you want to be a good cat or a bad cat?"

     Sidney let out a wail of philosophical protest, and the lizard's tail tumbled to the patio. 
He was obviously upset because she had been yelling at him, so Natalie hugged the cat to 
her chest, rubbing under his chin as she sat. "That's a good boy. You never wanted to eat 
that lizard in the first place, did you, Sidney? Not my jolly good fellow. You don't want 
to hunt creatures that are weaker than you, I know you don't. We've had this talk before."

     Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Nat, he's a cat. They hunt creatures out of 
instinct. Sidney can't help his instincts."

     "I don't want him killing things and bringing them to me as trophies! Sidney doesn't 
have to do it, and if I keep reminding him it's bad, he'll eventually learn!"

     As she snapped her retort at Nick, Nat had loosened her grip on the cat. Sidney made a 
break for it, scrambling out of her lap and racing deep into the backyard. Natalie whirled 
around in her chair. "Sid!"

     He didn't pause at the yard's fence, but scooted up the trellis, then disappeared over 
the other side.

     Now Natalie was running through the backyard. "Oh my god! Sidney!" She clung to 
the top of the fence and tried to look over and catch a glimpse of her cat, but it was too 
tall.

     Nick had followed, and he felt as though his hands were tied. It would have been easy 
enough for him to leap over the fence and follow Sidney if they'd been alone, but he 
couldn't demonstrate such athletics in front of so many people.

     Myra joined them, and Nick asked, "Is your neighbor's yard fenced? Could Sidney be 
confined?"

     Myra grimaced. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid they don't have a fence."

    Natalie paled as she hugged her arms around her stomach. "It was because I was 
yelling at him. I frightened him! What if he's so frightened he doesn't stop running? He 
could end up anywhere! He could get in the street..." Panic began to crawl into her voice 
as she shook her head. "Sidney's not used to being outside. The traffic...being in a strange 
place..." 

     A distant sound interrupted her worrying. *Crickle-crickle-BOOM!*

     Natalie let out a cry and covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh my god - fireworks! 
That'll terrify him!"

     They simultaneously began to move toward the house. 

     "I'll cover the neighborhood, Nat," Nick promised. "I'll find him."

     "I'm coming along," she insisted. "Who knows what might happen- ?" Natalie's voice 
cracked on a panicked breath. 

     Nick took her hands. "I think you should stay here. Trust me to take care of him." His 
voice lowered as he added, "Besides, I have more tracking experience."

     Natalie sniffed. "Then go *now!* If something happened to Sidney out there, I 
couldn't bear it!"

     Nick squeezed her grip and turned to leave, but Myra called in a helpful voice, "Don 
will take Columbo out - he's glad to help!"

     Schanke had just settled with a freshly opened beer - his first sit-down of the evening. 
He glanced at his wife like a moose trapped in a pair of headlights. Seeing her warning 
expression, he set the beer aside abashedly and began to push out of his chair. "I was just 
getting ready to say that, Hon. Honest!"

     "It's your party, Schank. Stay," Nick insisted, his voice brooking no argument. "I'll 
accept Columbo's help, though." At so much discussion of his name, the dog padded 
forward and barked excitedly. Nick patted his head as he slid open the door to the house. 
"Come on, Columbo! Let's get the cat!" As the dog issued a double bark and jogged 
through the house, Nick gave Natalie a final look. "I will find him."

     She let out a shaky breath. "Go."

******************************************************************
End of Part Four
     
     Sidney's feelings were hurt. Here he'd gone to all the trouble of catching a ferocious 
DINOSAUR and presenting it to her, and Mom wouldn't do anything but treat him like a 
BAD BOY! It was as though she had no appreciation of the CRAFT OF BEING A CAT 
at all! She probably didn't even care that the DOG had broken it.

     Just for that, he was going to swallow it good and not share it at all. That would show 
her.

     Apparently Mom realized she was missing out on a treat, because suddenly all she 
wanted to do was TAKE Sidney's DINOSAUR TAIL from him and keep all the chewy 
morsels to herself! Well Sidney wasn't going to give into that plan. He bobbed and 
weaved away from her snatching paws. He'd chomped this DINOSAUR'S TAIL fair and 
square. It was his!

     All of the sudden, Sidney found himself dangling midair.  Mom began to 
fuss at him, really angry over some injustice. Sidney tried the passive approach and hung 
limply, figuring she'd realize in a moment just how unfair she was being if he didn't 
argue. Then he heard the question, one that caught him off guard.

     "Do you want to be a good cat or a bad cat?"

      Sidney opened his mouth to counter. His 
DINOSAUR TAIL plummeted to the ground, lost. That trick really made Sidney feel 
abused. Now Mom would take his treat, and she didn't even appreciate it.

     But no! Mom ignored the DINOSAUR TAIL, and suddenly began to force her 
affections and grooming on him! Suddenly, she was all kissy-voiced and approving! 
Sidney was so confused, he wanted to hide his head and pretend the world wasn't there.

    Then things got worse! Mom started to pay attention to Nick, the DOG-LIKER again! 
Her jolly good fellow Sidney was no longer important. She didn't want to groom him or 
tell him how nice and handsome and brave he was anymore, either. It was all Nick, Nick, 
NICK! 

     Mom's voice became fearsome again, and she said Sidney's name in a very 
disapproving way.

     He'd had it. Sidney wasn't going to stay where he wasn't loved more than some cold-
nosed guy that PETTED DOGS. Sidney remembered the trellis along the fence, and his 
earlier threats of escape from tyranny.  he thought. 

     He flung his body out of her lap, bounding for freedom as fast as his muscular legs 
would carry him. Climbing the trellis was no problem, except for the point where Sidney 
felt one of the rose thorns sink into his paw pad. He flinched, but kept moving. Reaching 
the top of the fence, his body seemed to keep moving forward. Sidney found himself 
flying through the air for a second. Just when he'd decided he like the sensation of 
floating, he hit the ground. WHUMP!

     Sidney tensed, sinking his claws into the cool ground. Strange grass, strange flowers, 
and a strange house surrounded him. He'd landed in an entirely new world. 

    Sidney changed his mind. Freedom wasn't that important. His toys were important. His 
territory, his bed, his food bowl, his litter box, his Mom - these were the important things. 
Sidney wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his apartment, where there was no grass 
and the only sunshine filtered through windows, where Mom never let him nap on her 
wool coat, and the only strawberry yogurt he ever tasted came as espionage licks slipped 
when Mom wasn't looking. 

     Sidney had to get HOME, had to get HOME. He began to run, his thoughts buzzing. 
 He'd know it if he found it, Sidney was sure. He'd keep running, 
he'd just keep moving until he found HOME, and Mom would be there, and everything 
would be as it should be.

     The surface beneath Sidney's paws changed from moist and soft to hard and scratchy. 
Sidney grimaced, feeling the thorn stuck in his paw all the more from the change in 
pressure. He paused, lifting his right hind leg to lick at his injury. The thorn wouldn't 
leave right away, so Sidney had to chew a bit on his toes to work the sliver free. The 
sense of relief that his paw was unburdened was immediately replaced by shock. Some 
growling, churning, brightly lit MONSTER barreled straight toward him. It was the same 
sound he heard when Mom put him in the plastic box, between HOME and The Place 
You Get Shots. Sidney hated that sound.

     He leapt blindly. Because the light was so strong, it reminded him of the time he'd 
thought to try sniffing underneath a lampshade. Sidney had singed off half of his 
whiskers, and he'd learned that cats should never play near really bright and shiny things. 
A forceful wave of air rushed at his back, as though he'd narrowly missed a giant door 
closing on his tail. Sidney felt grass spring beneath his pads again, and he started running 
anew.

    

     Sidney began to wonder about the wisdom of his plan. Maybe running until he found 
HOME wasn't a good idea. Maybe he should look for the DOG HOUSE instead. Could 
that place be closer than HOME? He didn't really want to return to the DOG HOUSE; 
after all, it had the DOG in it. But it had Mom, too. Sidney decided that, if it meant being 
safe back with her, he could tolerate a DOG. He could even be nice to that DOG, if he 
was in a safe place where the ground wasn't covered in rocks and scary, bright ROARS 
didn't swipe at you out of nowhere. Yes, Sidney could be nice to that DOG...that...that 
dog. 

     Sidney jogged to a stop and sniffed at his surroundings.  He spared one last, petulant thought for the dog. 

     Sidney rotated his ears, sorting the night sounds, searching for harsh, irritating noises. 
When he found one, he shouted. It wasn't Columbo barking. No, he hadn't found a 
reason to celebrate. He'd found a horrible sound, one that terrified Sidney and made him 
feel threatened. It took all the bravado out of him. 

     Sure, he'd playacted with the dog earlier, showing him how to dodge and pretend with 
the blue ball, but this was the real thing. Sidney heard the sound of BOMBS exploding, 
and he knew that he was just a small cat. He couldn't defeat REAL BOMBS; he had to 
hide, and hiding would mean no returning to Mom. Sidney let out a mournful sob, 
ashamed of his cowardice.

     All at once, a BOMB dropped out of the sky, landing almost on his tail! Sidney 
shrieked. It sizzled and cracked, it hissed and taunted Sidney with a chain of *crickle-
crickle-crickles.* Sidney knew what came next - the BOOM! Sidney wailed and jumped 
as mightily far as he could.

     BOOM!

     Sidney was alive. He'd escaped the explosion. He crouched nervously, staring at the 
site of the detonation for signs of another attack. That's when Sidney heard the next harsh 
sound.

     Laughter flexing in twin streams scraped through the darkness. It grew closer and 
louder. Sidney cringed in fear, in despair as to what to do. He was scared, because he 
now faced a pair of creatures far worse than any LITTLE GIRLS...

     LITTLE BOYS.

*******************************************************************

     Bobby had half a dozen books of matches he'd pilfered from the jar his dad kept in the 
den, souvenirs from all the bars he'd soused in across Canada and New England. Bobby 
cashed in one of the six by practicing how to flick flames to life with one hand, then 
tossed the tiny torches at the head of his best friend, Max, amid fiendish snickers.

     "You TURD!" Max shouted as one of his eyebrows caught fire. He clapped a hand 
over his eye, smothered the burning hair, then tackled his best friend to the ground. He 
punched and pounded Bobby until he stopped laughing and gurgled on whimpers of pain 
instead.

     Max and Bobby had both turned twelve in May. They were the kind of children that 
their mothers called 'curious' and 'special.' Everyone else in the neighborhood called 
them 'evil brats destined for juvie hall.' Max and Bobby did their best to prove their 
mothers deluded and the neighborhood right.

     Most little boys wouldn't get away with roaming the streets on their own after dark, 
especially with pockets filled with matches and firecrackers. But Max and Bobby, if you 
will remember, are 'special.' Their mothers believe they should have the freedom to 
express themselves, and if that expression has to take place outdoors after nine o'clock, 
then so be it. Heavens forefend that the little boys be stifled!

    Max choked his best friend by the throat, demanding that he concede to his will. "I'll 
let you go if you say, 'I am a stupid baby wuss afraid of the Nightcrawler!'" He banged 
the other boy's head against the ground. "Say it!"

     Bobby vainly shook his head. "Won't do it!"

     "Say it!"

     "If I'm a wuss, you are, too!"

     The boys had taunted each other like this since last Halloween. That was back when 
they'd had a second-best friend named Sammie, and the three of them had sneaked into 
CERK radio station with a baseball bat planning to do some damage to the late-night host 
who was always talking about love, moonlight, poetry and other girly stuff. Naturally, 
he'd seemed like a good candidate for an ass-kicking. The guy in person...well, he'd had 
the boys running for their lives with one look. At the time, the boys had concluded that 
the Nightcrawler must be a real flesh-eating zombie. It had seemed so real, Sammie had 
experienced some kind of stupid lifestyle change. He started turning the other two boys 
away at his front door and transferred schools. He'd become a nerd, reading books and 
drawing and other brain crap like that.

     Once the specter of Halloween faded, Max and Bobby had realized that the 
Nightcrawler had fooled them with a *costume,* and they were Toronto's biggest idiots. 
To avoid admitting this information, each boy expended equal energy pounding the other 
into admitting how much more of a gullible coward he was.

     "Say it, Bobby!"

     "I don't believe in flesh-eating zombies!" Bobby shouted as loud as he could.

      "Yes, you do! You're a girl just like Sammie!"

     Well, you just don't slur Bobby with such an insult and expect to live. The boy 
struggled with one hand into his pocket while he held back Max's choking efforts with 
the other. Bobby ripped one match free, blazing it to life with a scratch of his thumbnail. 
Hearing the chemicals flare, he held the match light up to Max's arm.

     "Ahhh!" Abandoning threats to the other boy in favor of his own immediate self-
interest, Max let Bobby go and hugged his arm. "That hurt!"

     Bobby cackled as he climbed to his feet and pointed at his friend's pouty expression. 
"Who's the girl, now?"

     "Get out of my face. You suck." Pain seeping away and humiliation taking its place, 
Max sought a method of getting even. He had a pocket full of firecrackers, and he saw 
the fallen match still flickered in the grass. Max picked it up carefully, gritting his teeth 
as the heat bit his fingers. He lit the fuse of a sparkler, enjoyed the first sizzle sound, then 
aimed it at his best friend's feet.

     Bobby hopped in the air the moment he realized what had landed next to his sneakers. 
"You're crazy!"

     "And you dance like a girl," Max retorted.
 
      "Would a girl do this?" To prove he had balls, Bobby picked up the sizzling 
firecracker. There was less than an inch left on the fuse. He whirled it over his head, 
tossing it into the next yard.

     "Dude, you could have blown your fingers off! We might have gotten grounded!" 
Max shouted. After a moment, his features twisted into a quirky smile. "Cool."

     Bobby punched his arm. "Shut up!" He motioned his head toward the other yard. "Did 
you hear that?"

     Max listened and nodded as they heard a sound resembling a baby's cry. "It's a cat, 
dimwad."

     Bobby began to laugh. "And I wasted him with the firecracker!" They heard the 
sparkler erupt in its climactic explosion. "Let's go look!"

******************************************************************

     Columbo toddled alongside Nick at a steady pace. He wasn't built for speed like 
some, but he made up for it in determination. He still wanted to shake his head at the 
cat's silly antics - what did Sidney think he'd achieved by climbing over the fence? 
Inside the fence, people brought you food. Inside the fence, people rubbed your tummy. 
Inside the fence, people gave you bones.

     Any dog know that the territory outside the fence carried a million things that 
deserved barking. The reason you barked at that stuff was to keep it there on the other 
side of the fence. Only a fool or a cat would go looking for that trouble.

     Columbo glanced up at Nick with uncertainty. They'd already traveled outside his 
usual marking zone when The Kid or Dad took him for walks. They had entered 
unknown terrain. Columbo made a gruff, questioning sound. 

     "We have to find Sidney safe and sound," Nick replied. "He may not like us, but Nat 
thinks he's special. That's good enough for me."

      Columbo ducked his head, his spirits temporarily muffled by the reminder 
that he was disliked, even if it was by the antisocial Sidney.  The grass passing underneath began to tickle his nose, and he sneezed.

     "Scat cat," Nick teased.

     Columbo drew back his lips and silently bared his teeth.. 

     A crickle-BOOM! twisted the normal night sounds into knots. It reminded Columbo 
of thunder - usually a good reason to curl up on The Kid's bed - but he picked up a faint 
background wail that stilled his movements. He growled in his throat.

     Nick paused, also on alert. "You heard it, too? Come on!" 

     Nick began to run, far faster than any humans Columbo was accustomed to dragging 
along the sidewalk.  he panted. 

     Nick looked over his shoulder and saw this predicament. He crouched down and lifted 
Columbo into his arms. "I know an even quicker way. Bark if you like to fly."

     

     Whoosh!

     Columbo suddenly felt light as a feather. He glanced down and emitted a woof of 
surprise at the view. The ground was so far away! He could see the tops of houses and 
trees, just like a bird! Their movement through the air created a stream of wind against 
his face, lifting his ears until they floated aerodynamically behind his head. Columbo 
liked the feeling. He opened his mouth and let his tongue catch the tickling breeze.

     Down below, Columbo could see two tiny figures, sized like bugs. He couldn't see 
Sidney, but he could hear the cat rowling in fury and fear. Sparkles and flickers lit up part 
of the lawn, followed by another echoing BOOM! Columbo heard Nick growl. He did a 
good job of it, for a non-dog. Columbo joined in as they tilted at a sharp angle toward 
land.

********************************************************************

     The LITTLE BOYS looked down at Sidney with mischief.

      he hissed. 

     "Crap, Bobby," one LITTLE BOY said. "You didn't even scorch him."

     "Fine," the OTHER LITTLE BOY said. "Light me another."

     "They're my sparklers. I'll do it, dog brain."

     Sidney's eyes became saucers at the last words. Suddenly it seemed like an insult to 
dogs everywhere to compare their brains with those of these MONSTERS.  Sidney yelled at them. 

     The LITTLE BOYS had been punching each other. Sidney's slur drew their attention.

     "Hey," one LITTLE BOY said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "The cat's 
giving us attitude."

     "Hand me the match." The OTHER LITTLE BOY said. "I'll show him attitude."

     Sidney saw the OTHER LITTLE BOY light up the BOMB, heard it sizzle in his hand, 
and his heart pumped in mad anxiety.  Sidney 
longed for a set of drapes to scale away from this danger. Drapes were safe. 

    Then, the OTHER LITTLE BOY gave him a hint. He telegraphed his next move. He 
wasn't going to hold onto the BOMB. He planned to throw it at SIDNEY.

    Sidney was outraged. He had also discovered the best place to hide.

    Sidney launched himself at the OTHER LITTLE BOY, digging his claws into the 
MONSTER'S upper leg and adding his teeth for good measure. He would not let go until 
the BOMB exploded elsewhere.

     "Owwww! OWWWWWWW!" At first, Sidney thought the OTHER LITTLE BOY'S 
cries resembled that of a LITTLE GIRL, but he decided that comparison wasn't really 
fair to LITTLE GIRLS. Sidney sensed when the BOY threw the BOMB. "Help get it off 
me!!!" The BOY started to hit at him and pull, but Sidney sunk his claws in deeper. He 
shook his head, making a deadly sound as he ground his jaws into the EVIL 
MONSTER'S flesh.

     *Crickle-crickle-crickle-BOOM!*

     Sidney experienced a tiny grain of relief. He had escaped the BOMB, but now what 
could he do to elude the LITTLE BOYS? Another pair of hands had begun to hit and pull 
at him. He felt trapped!

     A cavalry of hope raised his ears. From overhead, Sidney heard a familiar bark. It was 
Columbo! COLUMBO was in the sky, swooping down through the trees as though he'd 
suddenly become a panther!

     Two sets of growls reached Sidney as he heard the landing.  
he thought, 

*******************************************************************
End of Part Five

     Nick set Columbo stably on his paws then reared up to yank the closest figure away 
from harming Sidney in one smooth movement. The dog took little time to recover his 
land legs, immediately launching at the figure Sidney had attacked with additional growls 
and bared teeth.

     Nick's eyes flared a vivid gold-red as he instinctively bared his fangs. He had 
Sidney's attacker lifted by the throat before he even registered that he held a young boy; 
he wasn't even old enough to be a teenager.

     "Nnngghhhaah!" the boy groaned in horror. He flailed, grabbing Nick's arm for 
support. "Max! Jesus, Max! Run! It's a flesh-eating zombie!" He struggled helplessly in 
Nick's grip. "Lemme go! Lemme go!"

     The boy named Max had worries of his own. Sidney had begun to slack off once he 
had reinforcements, but Columbo was doing his best to deliver the full threat of a flesh-
eating dog. Both smaller animals scratching and nipping at his heels, Max broke free and 
ran sobbing for his life down the street.

     His partner in crime cried as well. "Please, Mister! Lemme go!"

     "Give me one good reason I should spare you!" Nick hissed through his teeth.

     "I-I-I-...I'm just a kid!" he wailed.

     All at once, alarm bells eclipsed the killer instinct. Natalie's voice repeated in his 
head,  Nick jerked his head to the right. Both Sidney and Columbo 
sat there calmly, but stared up at him with hypnotic, questioning eyes. "No," he breathed. 
He shook his head and repeated the word, more loudly this time. "No!"

     The boy assumed the denial was meant for him and wailed louder. "Honest, I'm just a 
kid! I'm only twelve! I don't know any better!"

     "What's your name?" Nick asked in a low, deadly voice.

     "B-b-bobby. Bobby Wilson!"

     "If you don't know any better, Bobby..." Nick swerved his glare back in the boy's 
direction. The fangs were gone now, as well as the feverish glow to his eyes, but his stare 
was no less menacing. "A word to the wise: you had better start learning. Fast." Nick 
opened his grip, and the boy flapped to hold himself upright. After a few seconds, he 
gave up and tumbled into a whimpering heap on the grass.

     Nick knelt beside him, looking over his condition. "First off, no more picking on 
creatures smaller or weaker than you." He glanced at Columbo and Sidney again. "It 
makes you less of a man...less of a human." Turning his eyes back to the boy, he 
continued, "Secondly, if you keep living by violence and crime, you'll never stop running 
into flesh-eating zombies. Thirdly..." Nick said as he rose to a stand, a wry twist to his 
mouth. "...Get new friends." He turned his back on the boy, moving to check the animals 
for injuries.

     Bobby sat for a minute, breathing heavily. When Nick showed no inclination to speak 
to him again, he dug up enough courage to stammer, "C-c-can I g-go?"

     Nick gave him a forbidding look over one shoulder. Sidney had curled into his lap, 
tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. The cat didn't like him enough to do that 
unless he was traumatized. "You'd better run home while you still can," he growled.

     "Y-yes! Yes, sir!" The boy scrambled to his feet, desperate to get home and huddle in 
his bed. As he ran, he began to wonder what his old friend Sammie's new school was 
like, and if he would consider being Bobby's tutor.

     Columbo edged closer, propping his head on Nick's knee, glancing up through warm 
brown eyes. After a while, Sidney unearthed from Nick's elbow and leaned to give the 
dog's nose a few tentative licks. It took some coordination, but the vampire began to pet 
both animals while all three of them relaxed from the excitement.

     Reluctantly, Nick ceased his rubbing of Sidney's chin and interrupted the soundtrack 
of purrs and happy sighs issued by the cat and dog. "We should get back." He looked 
Sidney in the eye. "Natalie feels terrible that you ran away. She's upset and scared, and 
she thinks she's failed you." Sidney gave a small meow, and Nick rubbed the tips of the 
cat's ears. "I know. You didn't really mean to hurt her. She just doesn't always 
understand how hard it is to be a cat sometimes, to not give into your natural instincts." 
Sidney peeped encouragingly, while Columbo gave a dubious yawn. A troubled frown 
descended over Nick's features. "Can any of us escape our instincts? Can we possibly 
learn? Change?"

     The night sky spontaneously shimmered with a symphony of bursting colors, 
combined with equal bursts of deafening sound. The official neighborhood fireworks 
show had commenced. Nick glanced down worriedly at Sidney, wondering how soon 
he'd feel the cat's panicked claws sink in for a little comfort. Sidney looked back at him, 
still purring. The claws remained sheathed. "You're not scared?" Nick asked bemusedly.

     Sidney gently rose to his hind legs, leaning against Nick's chest, and rested a soft paw 
on the tip of his chin. He dropped off of Nick's lap, sidled up next to Columbo, and 
proceeded to give the dog's uppermost ear a good tongue bath. Pausing briefly, the feline 
sent Nick a lingering look, as if to say, 

*******************************************************************

     Sidney heard the apartment door open and peered over the arm of the couch. Mom 
usually arrived home later than this, and this visitor stepped differently. His nose bobbed 
as he sniffed for further clues. The scent of old leather and gunpowder...Nick! Sidney 
bounced off the sofa and jogged to greet him.

     Once Sidney had decided to give Nick the benefit of the doubt, despite his continued 
capacity to distract his Mom's attention, Nick had proven an excellent capacity for CAT 
SPOILING. Sidney liked that quality in a friend.

     Nick gave him strawberry yogurt, a spoonful at a time. This tribute alone lifted him a 
tiny step below CATHOOD in Sidney's estimation. Nick brought him grass once, too, 
long springy tufts of it that a cat could chew. Sidney could see that Nick had a brown 
paper bag with him, an extra big one, and he knew that tonight would bring a special 
treat. 

     Sidney cooperated patiently while Nick lifted him off of the floor, but such proximity 
with the treat bag robbed him of all decorum. He stretched out a paw to poke at it, feeling 
a rush of giddiness as the paper made a crinkly sound.

     "You want to see?" Nick asked.

     

     "Bet you can guess what it is," Nick said.

     Sidney was too impatient for games of imagination. He poked emphatically at the bag, 
causing a violent rustling.

     "One second," Nick bargained. "Guess." He squeezed the paper bag.

     The bag erupted in sound. "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..."

     Sidney wriggled with delight. 

     Nick laughed as he set Sidney's squirming body on the floor, then produced the long-
lost toy. Sidney could tell it really was Mr. Moo, not some impostor. He sniffed the 
stuffed animal long and hard, even grimacing so he could test the odors with the roof of 
his mouth. Mr. Moo had new scents - some kind of cleaning solvent, a moderate smell of 
Nick, plus a faint whiff of Columbo, but the old familiars were still there. Mr. Moo 
smelled like Mom and Sidney.

      He seized the stuffed steer between his 
paws and began to gnaw on one horn.

     "I'm sorry it took so long," Nick said conversationally, "but your toy needed some 
stitching and cleaning, a bit of stuffing...I fixed him."

     Sidney paused in his chewing and gave Nick a wide-eyed stare. 
He felt the flashback returning, the one where he endured THE OPERATION...Poor Mr. 
Moo!

     Sidney didn't feel pity for very long. He had an entire lost month of steer wrestling to 
compensate for. Sidney lay on his side and began to grind Mr. Moo's stomach with his 
hind legs. He then flipped the toy over and jawed the back of his neck in a death clutch.
    
     "Mooooooo...Mooooooo...Mooooooo..."

     Nick propped on the floor next to Sidney's spectacle of toy oppression and shook his 
head ruefully. "You're a changed cat, huh? I don't know, Sidney...there's a killer in you 
yet."

    Sidney begged to differ, and immediately began to groom Mr. Moo's horns. He 
glanced over at Nick, who had risked resting his head within paw distance. Once upon a 
time, Sidney would have used such an opportunity to draw blood. Instead, he reached out 
to brush harmlessly at Nick's cheek. 

    Nick began to rub under Sidney's chin, his favorite spot. Sidney purred, and in a surge 
of appreciation, he bumped forward, blinked, and touched the tip of his nose to Nick's. It 
was a cold touch, but Sidney didn't mind.
 
     Every cat knows that a cold nose is a sign of a warm heart.

*************************************************************
End of Part Six

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