Sometimes I wondered if it was fair to keep Mimsy with me. There were nights we’d slept real rough, days we’d been freezing cold or panting in the smothering wet heat of summer. I’d run short on her food a few times, even though I bought hers before mine.
But watching her now eased my mind. If she’d stayed back in Minneapolis, even living in someone’s comfy home if she’d been adopted, she’d never have had this. She loved to explore new places, and no Minnesota house cat would ever chase a scuttling crab across the Pacific sands.
Excited barking pulled my gaze from Mimsy. A dog raced across the sand toward her, towing a young teen boy. The boy seemed to be peering up into the sky, letting the dog set the pace. The furry mutt’s forward-pricked ears and wagging tail suggested it was friendly— you learn to read dogs when you sleep rough— but I still sprinted to scoop Mimsy up before it arrived.
“Oh, hello!” The boy panted to a stop as the dog hesitated a few feet away, its gaze flicking between me and Mimsy. “Is that a cat? Can I pet her? Is she afraid of dogs? Zelda likes all other animals, but she’s big enough to make a cat nervous. Should we back off?”
“Mimsy’s not afraid of dogs.” I grinned, remembering all the times she’d smirked at a guard dog through its fence. “I’m just being careful.”
“Mimsy? That’s a great name. Like the borogroves in the poem?”
“Yeah, exactly. I’m surprised you know that one. It’s an old book.”
“Through the Looking Glassis a classic!” he protested, then grinned, the sunny expression lighting his snub-nosed face. “My dad’s a writer. He’d disown me if I didn’t recognize Lewis Carroll. Well, not really, because he’s the best, but he’d give me more homework. AlthoughAlice in Wonderlandwould be fun homework.”
“Ah.” Kids didn’t usually take to me right away, especially teens, so his enthusiasm set me back a bit.
“Anyway, can I pet Mimsy? She’s super pretty. Are you taking her for a walk? People don’t often do that with cats, but I think they’d like it. Indoor cats live an average of ten years longer than outdoor cats, but a leash is a good compromise. Except she’s not on a leash.”
“No, she’s not.” Since the dog was now sitting eyeing us rather than lunging, I took my hand off Mimsy to let her jump down. She went to the boy and wound around his ankles, keeping an eye on the dog.
“She likes me!” He squatted to pet her, rubbing her ears and chest in the way people who know what cats like do. The dog eased closer, sniffing at Mimsy until she hauled off and bopped the intruding nose with a paw. The dog sneezed and sat back down. I was pleased to see Mimsy hadn’t drawn blood.
“Good girl, Zelda,” the boy said. “Give the kitty space.” He straightened and said, “Oh, I’m Kevin. What’s your name?”
“Shane,” I told him.
“That’s a classic book too.”
“Yeah, it is.” Part of a fantasy Mom had preferred to reality, but given her life when I was born, I couldn’t blame her. At least, not for my name.
Mimsy spotted another crab and dashed off in pursuit. Kevin said, “Stay!” to Zelda and sprinted after her. Just as Mimsy pounced, the boy scooped her up. She protested, but he held her as the crab burrowed into the sand. When he set her down, she sniffed the hole, then flounced over to me, flicking her tail in annoyance.
“Sorry,” Kevin said, trailing after her. “That was anAmerita analoga,a Pacific sand crab. They’re not rare or endangered, but wild animals shouldn’t suffer predation by domestic cats. It can be quite devastating.”
The onslaught of adult words and the way he’d grabbed my cat set my back up. I said, “Cats have to eat too.”
“They don’t have to eat wild creatures. They get cat food.”
“When their owners can afford it.” I stuck a finger through a hole in my sweatshirt and wiggled it.
He looked at me, wide-eyed. “Can’t you afford cat food?” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a tattered twenty-dollar bill. “Here, Papa says I should never go out without money. You can have it.”
That shamed me a little. “I can’t take your emergency money, kid.”
“Papa and Alec will give me more.”
A flash of envy that was almost rage heated my chest. What would it be like to confidently give away your safety, knowing someone would immediately replace it? At that age, I’d have taken a beating rather than let someone take my last twenty. Hell, I had, more than once, although I’d usually lost the money, too. “Keep it.”
Kevin peered at my face. I don’t know what he saw, but he tucked the bill back in his pocket. “What will you do? She needs to eat.”
I went for a carefree answer. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I know! Come on!” Kevin turned and dashed away with his dog across the sand. I’d have let him go, except Mimsy galloped after the two of them like this was the most fun thing ever.
I called, “Mimsy, come!” which she usually listened to, but this time she ignored me. I could’ve used our safety “Halt!” command that told her to freeze in place, which she almost always obeyed, but I tried to save that for dangerous situations. This wasn’t dangerous, just silly. I grumbled under my breath as I jogged after the three of them, sand leaking into the crack in my right shoe despite the duct tape.
Kid, dog, and cat ran quite a distance down the sand along the water’s edge. Far enough that I was getting pissed off about the unwanted exercise before Kevin ducked right and began working his way up alongside the narrow river I’d crossed when I first came to town. On each bank, a narrow strip of land grew wild, with scrubby trees and taller weeds than most of the arid countryside. The dirt path the kid followed wound along above the bank.
