FSE

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In the voice of Jerry Seder

One year ago, I discovered first-hand just how much our lives hinge on the tiny little chaotic twists of fate. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if I hadn't left my car lights on all night that night. I wouldn't have been looking for the number for the car repair place. I wouldn't have rediscovered Keith's number, tucked away in my personal phone book. I wouldn't have called him, and he wouldn't have swept me away on a madcapped, cross-country journey, filled with self-discovery and legendary hamburgers. And I certainly never would have started dating him. My life, clearly, wouldn't be as bright as it is now.

I suppose now I'll start wondering what my life had been like if the phone hadn't started ringing while I was in the middle of dealing with a particularly nasty customer.

She was a possum. She had ordered three sandwiches, and she had waited until I got her to the cash register before letting me know that she had three coupons that she wanted to redeem.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I began, trying to keep my tone steady. "You can't use all of these."

"Well why not?!" she asked, shocked.

"This is a 'buy one, get one'," I said, feeling my brain twisting as I struggled to translate these concepts into customerese. "If you use this one on one of your sandwiches, that means the second one is free. You can't --"

The telephone started ringing. I glanced down the line. It was me and two of the new guys, and they were busy helping another customer.

"You can't apply more than one coupon to the same sandwich," I tried to explain, my fur rising as the phone continued to ring. "And you can't apply a coupon to a sandwich that you're getting for free. Excuse me just a second." I picked up the phone. "Good afternoon, thank you for calling Sandwich Shack, can you please hold?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

I waited a few seconds, taking deep, deep breaths. "Okay," I decided at last. "You can please hold, thank you." I set the receiver down and turned back to my possum. The line was building up behind her, and the rest of the help wasn't even ready to switch from making sandwiches to wrapping them yet. "Sorry about that."

"Okay, fine," she fumed. "How about if I just use these two here?"

I scrunched my eyes closed. Why was this so difficult? "If you want to use this one, you have to buy the whole combo," I growled. "You can't use this one to get the cup of soup for free."

"You know," she said, staring at me accusingly, "You're the only animal who's ever given me this kind of trouble over these coupons."

Oh. Blame me. "I'm sorry," I told her, holding my voice in check. "Maybe the other animals you've dealt with don't understand how the coupons are supposed to work."

"What's your name?" she hissed.

My lips curled a bit. I saw where this was going. "Jerry."

"Fine, Jerry," she said. "What's a phone number where I can reach your manager?"

Oh that bitch. Oh that fucking bitch. Line backed up behind her, someone on the phone still on hold...

"Oh fuck this."

She stared at me, aghast. A couple of the other animals in line, turned our way, surprised. "What did you just say to me?"

I shoved a bag of sandwiches across the counter at her. "Here. I don't care anymore. Just take it and leave."

"I am calling your manager!" she shouted. "I do not deserve to be treated --"

I picked up the phone again. "Thanks for holding how can I --"

Huh. Dial tone. I hung it up and pointed at the fox who was next in line. "For you sir, that was a steak melt, bag of chips, did you want to make that a combo with a regular drink?"

He looked from me to the possum and back again, like he was trying to figure out which of us he would prefer to be bitten by. "N... no, just the sandwich and the --"

I snapped the twenty dollar bill out of his paw. "Six thirty out of twenty, change is thirteen seventy." I was counting out change before he had a chance to react. "There's your change and your receipt, we'll have your order up shortly. Can I help the next in line, please?"

My first customer gave me a look of impotent fury and stalked off in a huff. Luckily, the new girl -- she was a badger, and I could never keep her name straight -- found the time to start wrapping up the sandwiches that were coming down. And soon, we were getting customers out the door as fast as I could take them.

It was a brief rush, and not a single customer chose to dine in. In the space of ten minutes, the entire place was bare, just as quickly as it had filled. I could see that my staff was a little ruffled by the way I had reacted.

"So," I grinned. "Just so you guys know, never take more than one coupon for each sandwich they order."

They nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

I surveyed the dining room. Still in pretty decent shape, considering the melee we'd just gone through. "Well. It's close enough to two o'clock. You guys can punch out if you want."

I picked up a broom and started sweeping the back section as they punched out. And then I was alone. The stretch from two to four is usually pretty quiet -- I can generally keep the place together all by myself until Hal comes in to take over the place for the evening.

It wasn't five minutes before I heard an indignant throat-clearing at the front counter. I looked up from my cleaning to see a mouse standing in front of the sneeze guard, looking rather annoyed. He was a teenager, from the looks of it. Frowning like he owned the place and he didn't like what he saw.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't hear you come in. I'll be with you in --"

"Are you the guy I talked to on the phone about ten minutes ago?" he asked.

I flicked an ear. "Yeah."

"You put me on hold for like, a minute before I hung up," he explained in a tone of voice that suggested that he was there to avenge his family's honor.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was on my cell phone," he said, starting to lose his patience, "And that costs me money. So I want to get a two dollar discount on my order."

It's a strange feeling, going over the edge. Losing that last, stubborn little grip on reality. When you look at the situation that you're in, and suddenly... You just get this feeling that none of this could possibly be real, that it can't really be happening.

I couldn't cope. I couldn't handle the idea that any of this was happening, that I was actually facing a mouse who expected compensation for being put on hold.

And the really dangerous thing about it is, you start to see some very interesting ways out of your situation.

For example. At this particular point in time, I began to realize that I was all alone, that the security camera was pointed toward the cash register and not the counter that this mouse was standing on, and that I hadn't eaten anything since seven o'clock that morning.

For some reason, this combination of circumstances brought a smile to my face.

"How about," I grinned, "If I get you a coupon for a free sandwich. Just wait right there."

I was in decidedly high spirits two and a half hours later when I arrived at Keith's house, still dressed in my uniform. Keith was listening to music in his living room. Tim was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Keith," I sang. "I think I'm going to need an emergency tummy rub."

"Oh dear!" Always ready for such an emergency, he leapt from the couch to make room and stood at the ready. I peeled my work shirt off and made myself comfortable. Two little black paws stroked my stomach, ruffling my fur up lovingly as I closed my eyes and murred. Usually not the sort of thing that would get me hard, but in this case, it was delicious.

"So what's brought on this emergency?" he asked, concerned.

"Funny thing happened to me at work today," I explained. "A customer came in demanding that I compensate him for the time that he spent on hold on his cell phone. So I ate him."

Keith stopped suddenly, his eyes wide. It took a hell of a lot to shock Keith, so I took a little bit of satisfaction out of that. "You ate an entire customer?"

"Yep. He was a mouse. Swallowed him alive."

He cocked his head thoughtfully. "How does it feel?"

"You know what?" I couldn't help grinning. It's like I was bubbling up with glee on the inside. "It feels great. I got that dickhead right where I want him."

He looked me over, concern furrowing his brow. "No pangs of regret? No shame or hurt at the thought of extinguishing another living, feeling, sentient being? No remorse whatsover?"

I thought it over, rather surprised. "Huh! Doesn't seem like it, no."

"I take it he's not likely to survive the experience?"

"It's been a couple hours," I told him. "Can't be much left of him; I'm already starting to think about dinner."

Keith shook his head sadly. "That wild wolf you've met in the woods has clearly been a bad influence on you."

I nodded. "Most likely."

He fluffed up. "This is the sexiest thing you've ever done," he stated. "Take me now."

I blinked. "Condoms?"

"In the side table drawer."

After I had his ass, we hung out on the floor for a bit.

"So," he said, still hugging against my belly, "You don't plan on making a habit of it, do you?"

"Well that's just the thing," I mused. I ran my tongue over my chops -- felt damned good. "I'm beginning to think that I'd really, really like to."

"There's consequences for those sorts of actions," he reminded me. "You can't just go around eating other sentient animals. It'll get you in trouble."

"I know, I know," I sighed. "But if I get away with this one, I just know I'm going to try it again sooner or later."

He sighed whistfully, reaching up to run his claws across my chest. "My sweet little bitch is turning all feral on me," he lamented.

"Hmmmm. See, I thought about that, but I really don't like the idea," I explained. "It's a nice getaway for a stretch of a day or two, but I wouldn't want to build my whole life around it."

"Well," he said, tracing one claw straight down the middle of my chest, his voice heavy with contemplation, "There is at least one alternative..."

"Oh?"

He looked up into my eyes. There was a strange look on his face -- hesitation and longing. And doubt? Maybe fear? "I've seen animals go the way you're going," he said quietly. "It may save you more trouble in the long run if you don't try to bury it in denial. You just ate a civilized mouse -- one wolf in ten can go through something like that without going completely feral. It's better to accept it than to bottle it up and have it all come out at once. If you apply for feral status, you can actually avoid legal action for murdering that mouse."

I blinked. "What, really?"

Keith nodded. "It's a draconian system; there's all sorts of weird caveats. Basically, you can use an incident like that in order to apply for feral status. Most of those sorts of applications go off without a hitch -- it's based on the idea that feral behavior strikes without warning, and crimes that are committed during the transition are absolved. You enter your new status with a clean legal slate."

"Hmmmmm..."

"And then..." His voice became quiet. "And then I could adopt you as a pet. Just like I did with Timothy. We could get the paperwork done while applying for your feral status." He gave me a soft smile. "Jerry. I could own you."

A chill ran down my spine. Life as Keith's pet. I couldn't even begin to imagine that one. But it sure sounded like a hell of a lot of fun.

"You would actually do something like that for me?" I asked quietly. "Just... take me in? Take care of me? The whole deal?"

"In a heartbeat," he smiled, ruffling my head.

My ears folded. "But I mean... I don't want to be a burden on you or anything."

"Jerry. You must know by now that I'm well off." He waved a paw around vaguely. "The apartment. The gifts I get for you. I can support you if that's what you need. For goodness sake, don't worry about money."

"You really make that much at the candy store?" I asked skeptically.

"No," he said with a sly smile. "I won the lottery."

I blinked. "What, really?"

He nodded. "Three million dollars. To be awarded over a period of ten years, in monthly installments of over twenty thousand dollars. I'm rich, Jerry."

I suddenly felt weak in my marrows. "Wh -- when did this happen?!"

"Several years ago," he grinned.

"I thought you managed that candy store in the mall!" I argued.

"Yep. But I do that for free."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"What's that old question?" he asked rhetorically. "What would you do if you had a million dollars? The answer, of course, is whatever makes you happy. And as it turns out, making the best chocolates in the entire world is what makes me happy. Besides, it's the family business; how could I give it up?"

I turned that over in my head a couple times. "And you never told me about it..."

"... Because you didn't need to know. Exactly." He gave me a good squeeze. "But if this knowledge will help you to become a member of my household, and if indeed you are planning to live the best years of your life with me, then you should know that no, you will never be considered a burden."

"You really want me to come live with you." I felt like I'd just realized it for the first time.

"Of course I do, Jerry," he said. "I love you. And I've always wanted a wolf of my very own. I could feed you and dress you up and take you for walks, and if you were really, really good, I could lock you in my bedroom and do obscene and delicious things to you all night long."

I nodded, staring off into space. It was a beautiful daydream.

"You have to understand, it's not something to take on lightly," he frowned. "It can be reversed, but it's so much harder to get out of than it is to get into -- only a small handful make it back into the system every year. You lose your legal status. You can't possess anything. You can't hold a job. You can't vote. You can't receive social benefits. You will essentially be property, and if anything should ever happen to me, you would be treated as such by the state."

I nodded thoughtfully. It was quite a tradeoff. Freedom from the system was a terrible sort of thing. Feral animals weren't expected to adhere to the same laws as the rest of civilization, but they also didn't get any assistance.

But had the system ever done anything for me? Really? Would my life really be all that different, twenty, forty, sixty years down the line? Would I ever regret it?

"So... This would give me proper opportunity to eat other animals, huh?"

Keith nodded. "As it turns out, predation laws have nothing to say about what two feral animals do to each other. And... I happen to have access to some recently-converted feral animals."

Hmmmmm... I thought about what Nash had told me. About how you need an adventure when you feel dissatisfied with your life. And if pitching everything in favor of a life as my fox's lap puppy wasn't an adventure, then I don't know what was.

"I think I'd like to look into that," I decided at last. "I don't suppose you have any way to get some information about that for me?"

"Oh, I think I could dig up a brochure or two," Keith assured me.

I nodded. "I'd really appreciate that." I glanced down the hall musingly. "Anyway. 'Scuse me for a second. I think it's time."

Keith nodded solemnly. "Do what you must."

I padded down the hall, tail hiked and waving smugly. A twist of fate had forever changed the direction of both of our lives. Mine was heading toward a strange and exciting future.

His was about to hit Keith's toilet.

---

I spent the night at home, in my trailer. Sitting in the easy chair next to my magic table, listening to the sound of my water fountain running. Ultimately, I knew I didn't have a choice. I'd gone over the edge; I didn't trust myself anymore as a moral, sentient being. I'd gotten myself into this mess. I was just lucky that I'd had Keith there to catch me when I fell.

I found myself strangely... melancholy as I looked up and down my trailer. I'd lived in it for a few years out of necessity; leaving my job and ending up in a sandwich shop kind of limited my housing options. I wasn't proud of living here; I didn't make a lot of friends mostly because I was ashamed of bringing them home to... this. But on the other hand, it was my home. It gave me shelter at a time in my life when I sorely, sorely needed it. It smelled like me. And I'd kept it up, all by myself -- just hard work and perseverance. Much as I loved Keith's apartment, I didn't know if I could really let go of this place. But maybe that was exactly what I needed. To move on. To end the dark chapter in my life that I'd come to associate with this place and never look back.

Or maybe I could just talk Keith into keeping it up. I mean, hey, the lot rent's not much, he can probably afford it.

Keith brought me some of the information from the courthouse, explaining the whole ordeal. Most of it seemed like common sense stuff. Most of it I could live with. My only nagging doubt was what would happen to me if something should suddenly happen to Keith. I had a terrible picture of myself in old age, with no money, no social benefits, suddenly all alone in the world. Keith assured me that he would get his will updated and leave me in the care of a nice wildlife refuge that he knew about. All in all, I was starting to feel like I was ready for things to work out this way.

But there was just one more problem.

I came in to work half an hour early that day. I was shaking before I even pulled into my parking spot. When I opened the door, I thought I was going to lose it. There was Hal -- old badger, going through the morning checklist like clockwork. Just like it was any other day. "Good morning Jerry," he called out to me.

I was going to lose it. I just knew it.

I squeezed my eyes and tried not to look at him for too long. "Hi Hal," I muttered.

He smiled like he already knew what was coming. "So, what can I help you with this morning?"

"Hal, I'm so sorry." Like tearing off a bandaid. I spit the words out as fast as I could. "I hate like hell to do this to you. You know that. I really, really do."

He nodded understandingly, setting down his checklist. Oh god, he was only making it harder for me. "It's all right, Jerry," he said softly. "I've seen this coming for a while now."

I snorted. Oh god, now my nose was running and everything. "I would never, ever... ever want to leave this place," I told him. "I would've... I would've stayed here my whole life."

I turned to look at the cooler case, the little partitioned containers of sliced sandwich toppings, and I realized just how much I'd really, really come to love this place, in spite of the terrible customers, in spite of the hectic pace and the stress and the mind games. I'd believed in this place from the bottom of my heart. I'd been so proud to work here.

My chin started quivering and I broke down sobbing. This was so much harder than I'd thought it would be.

I felt a paw on my shoulder. "Jerry, you did a good job," he said consolingly. "If it's your time to move on, then I can't stop you."

I wiped my eyes and snorted and struggled to keep my voice from cracking. "I just couldn't take it," I said. "I just couldn't take it anymore. I ate one of the customers. I don't trust myself anymore. I can't stay here if that's how I'm going to behave, right?"

He nodded, unphazed. Whether he'd found out somehow or it didn't matter to him or he just wasn't listening to me, I didn't know. "It's all right, Jerry," he said. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

I took several deep breaths. Slowly started to come down again. "Will you be all right?" I asked. My personal regrets were nothing. I would get over those in time. But I'd never be able to forgive myself if I left Hal in a tight spot in my absence.

"Well," he said in that soft manner of his, "It may surprise you somewhat to know this Jerry, but I did manage to keep this place running before you started working here."

I laughed a little too loud and felt myself blushing up. I felt so silly, overestimating my importance like that.

"You know, I remember how you looked when you first came in here," he told me. "You looked like you'd been kicked into the garbage and you didn't know what you were going to do. And I said to myself, 'Here's a guy who needs a chance.' And I don't think there was a single day that you came in here and you didn't prove one hundred percent that my confidence was well-founded."

My ears flattened. Even after all this time, I was uncomfortable taking praise from him. "Thank you."

He waved around. "You see all of these kids in here come and go. I know that they don't want to make sandwiches their entire lives." He shrugged. "I just want to give them that starting point. Jerry, if all this was was your bridge from where you were to where you're going now, then that's fine with me. I hate to see you go, but I figure that just means it'll be a little bit before I meet the next guy who needs a chance."

I nodded. My head was starting to clear again. It was rough but now... now I just felt serene.

"So," he continued, "Are you leaving right away, or are you going to stick around for a while?"

"I'm going to stay for a bit," I assured him. "I just wanted to give you my two weeks' notice today."

"Well that's very professional of you," Hal nodded. "You can spend the time showing Miguel how to fill in your position."

Miguel. He was a skunk. I actually kind of liked him. Friendly. Much better with customers than I was. A little slow picking up on prep details, but very self-motivated. I was sure he would work out all right.

"Sure thing," I said, starting to smile again. "Thanks for everything, Hal."

He smiled back. "My pleasure."

---

The next two weeks were a whirlwind. So many preparations to make, so much paperwork and hassle. There was this whole weird legal balancing act that had to be done. Keith insisted that, for my own protection, I needed to hold on to my assets until the adoption went through. But the adoption couldn't take place until I'd been given feral status, at which point I wouldn't have any legal ownership of anything. The solution was to create a temporary legal entity that would take legal possession of everything I owned, which would be transferred to Keith's name upon the condition of my adoption. Still, the whole thing was a huge leap of trust. And, well... I trusted Keith.

Training Miguel went smoothly enough. He took pretty readily to the extra managerial tasks he would be responsible for -- counting the cash drawer, doing the inventory and the ordering and so forth. I was sure that he'd take good care of the place in my absence -- possibly even better care, considering his cooler temper. My workdays were strangely calm after that, and it was hard to keep the regret from stirring inside me. But it was easier to leave than it would have been if I'd left when everyone I knew was still working there. On my last day, I turned my hat and apron in to Hal, muttered a brief goodbye, grabbed one last free coffee, and drove home.

I had a couple days between my last day of work and our date at the courthouse. I packed up some things that I wanted to bring to Keith's. There wasn't much that I figured I needed. A couple changes of clothes. My water fountain. My scented oil set. My makeup. I packed up a lot of crap I'd collected that I wouldn't need anymore and donated it to the local thrift store. But Keith had liked the idea of keeping the trailer as a "weekend cottage", so I left behind all of the stuff we'd need when we visited it -- furniture, TV set, that sort of thing.

So I was all set. We went down on a Tuesday morning, armed with the piles of paperwork that still needed to be submitted. A county clerk pored over my piles of records, made entries in his computer, seized my licensing tags, and gave me a document to sign. And just like that, Jerry Seder left the system.

And then Keith stepped forward to sign the adoption papers. With three brisk signatures, I was his.

"These are his new registration tags," the clerk explained in a no-nonsense sort of way, handing them over to Keith. "These are to be prominently displayed at all times while he is in public. Failure to do so will make him subject to incarceration."

We looked at each other. I got down on bent knee to meet him eye to eye. He smiled and tipped my head up with one paw so that he could reach the collar around my neck. It was a marvelous feeling, having those tags hanging from my neck. When it was secure at last, he smiled at me, his eyes going all misty. He threw his arms around my neck before I could see him cry.

"You've made me the happiest fox in the world, Jerry," he whispered. I didn't know what to say, so I just hugged him back.

"Mmmmm," he said, shaking me back and forth fondly. "I think I'll call you Fluffy."

He led me out of the courthouse on my leash. We'd never done that in public before, but of course, now we had to. I have to admit, I got a certain thrill out of it, and I decided to enjoy it while it was still novel. Head and tail held high, watching the animals we passed on the street to see if they'd react. Keith, for his own part, played the whole thing off as calmly as anything else he did; he was born to be a wolf-owner. We didn't talk much on the ride home; we really didn't need to. He just had this warm, satisfied glow about him. And I was just bubbling with excitement.

The return to his apartment was a little anticlimactic, unfortunately. "Well, Jerry," he said with a grand wave, "Welcome to your new home. I wish I could stay here and we could make a proper day out of our first day together, but unfortunately, I still need to be in to work today. I promise I'll make it up to you in the evening."

"Sure thing," I nodded.

"You know where everything is," he said briskly. "Make yourself at home. Don't chew on the furniture, don't pee in the living room, and don't eat Timothy, or I'll give you a swat when I get home." He unhooked my leash and went to the kitchen, where he pulled out a pair of large, shiny plastic bowls from the cabinet under the sink. Heh. He filled one with water and he filled the other from a big bag of kibble that he'd hidden in with the bowls, and he set them both on the floor of the kitchen. "That's for you," he explained with a coy smile. "Help yourself. I'll see you again when I get home."

He retreated to his bedroom in a businesslike fashion, changed into his work clothes, waved one last goodbye, and then he was out the door.

My first day as an unemployed pet.

First order of business was obvious. I got out of my clothes and dropped them in the hamper. Wouldn't be needing those for a while. Spent a little time practicing going on all fours. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but I took to it reasonably well. Certainly an interesting perspective on the apartment. I could just see over the level of the kitchen table when I sat on my haunches. The ground level smells were suddenly a bit more nose-catching. I was just a little bit hungry, so I padded into the kitchen to see what dog kibble tasted like.

But it looked like someone had gotten to it before me. Tim was sitting on the top, tail whisking around, big stupid grin on his face. "Welcome home, big guy."

CHOMP. I scooped him up in a big squeaking mouthful of kibble, munched blissfully, and swallowed. And then I spit him into the water dish. "Never get between a wolf and lunch," I advised him before I bent over for another bite. It wasn't bad, really, just kind of... plain. Like ramen noodles. It had a vague beef flavor, but nothing else to really recommend it. I figured it would be an interesting novelty now and then -- maybe a roleplaying prop -- but I sure hoped Keith wasn't expecting me to subsist on it.

Timothy waded to the edge of the dish, undaunted. He pulled himself over the edge and slid back down to the floor. "Look at that," he clucked. "Gave you a dog tag and everything. They didn't give me a tag for going down there."

"You're a mouse," I pointed out. "You really want to carry something this big around with you everywhere you go?"

"Excuses, excuses," he said, waving a paw at me dismissively. "Mice get the shaft, that's all there is to it."

I shook my head. I was getting used to his sarcasm. Lucky thing too; it looked like I was going to be getting a lot more of it from now on. I polished off the bowl while he sat and watched with that sort of glazed, fascinated look in his eyes. When I was done, I decided I was in the mood to crash on the couch for a bit. Tim followed me in from the kitchen, scampered up onto my belly, and threw himself down, staring up at the ceiling. He looked so cute, just rising up and down like that.

"So you really did it, huh?" he asked, little awestruck smile on his face.

"Hmmmm?"

He tilted his head back to look at me upside down. "You ate that mouse who was giving you a hard time at work," he grinned. "Just like that."

I didn't exactly like how fixated he seemed to be on my diet, but I was still in the mood for a little gloating. "One gulp," I confirmed.

"Hmmmmm..." He rolled over on his stomach, bristling up. "Was he any good?"

I gave him my best smug grin. "Not as good as you." Okay, so I enjoyed winding him up. I blame it all on Keith. He's been a bad influence on me.

He flushed up, tail sliding back and forth in a little sine wave. "So do you think you ever would?"

I blinked. "Would what?"

He had that creepy grin on his face. "Eat me. One bite. Just like that."

"I already did," I pointed out.

He shook his head. "You know what I mean."

Gah. I should have known better than to encourage him like that. "No," I said flat out. "I really wouldn't want to."

He didn't seem satisfied with that answer. "What about if I really, really pissed you off?"

I frowned at him. "No," I insisted. I was even pretty sure it was the truth. "I'd cool off again in a couple hours, and then I'd feel terrible about what I'd done when I lost my temper. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"You don't seem to feel too terrible about eating that other mouse just because he bugged you," he pointed out.

"That's different. I didn't even know him. But I know you. And I'm fond of you."

"Hmmmm." He didn't sound too convinced, rolling over on his back again. "I just want you to know, if it has to be anyone, I want it to be you. Got that?"

I sighed. "Why are you like this all the time?"

He glanced back at me again. "Like what?"

"Like this," I said. "All... bleak and morbid and all you ever think about is how something's going to come along and eat you some day."

"I'm a mouse." He sounded surprised, as if it should be obvious.

"And what's that got to do with anything?" I pressed.

He waved a paw in the air carelessly. "It's just a fact of life. We live in a civilized society where all animals are supposedly equal, but look what happens. Mice have every bit as much intellectual potential as any other animal, but predators still eat us. For fun. They're not even considered criminals. I mean... I don't mean to criticize or anything, but look at you! You came out and admitted to eating a mouse who came to your store as a customer, and what happened to you? We don't get registered, so nobody pays much attention to us. Nobody cares if we live or die."

He jumped, startled, as I laid a finger on his stomach. He twisted around to look at me, two little pitiful black eyes.

"I care if you live or die," I assured him.

It was quiet for a long moment. I thought I saw him starting to smile, and then he rolled over to snuggle into my fur. "Yeah, I know you do," he said at last. And it seemed like I had finally satisfied him.

It had been a long time since I'd just indulged in a lazy, quiet afternoon. My impulses kept telling me, "Up! Up! Up!" but with no responsibilities and nothing to really do... Well, it just kept my head going around in circles.

"So what do you usually do when Keith's at work?" I asked.

"Hang out," he said, sounding like he was half-asleep. "Watch TV. Surf the net."

"Hmmmm." Didn't sound like the sorts of things I could channel much energy into.

He dug both paws deep into my fur. "We could make out on the couch for a while," he suggested.

"Eh. Let's do it in the bathtub instead," I suggested. "It'll be easier to clean up."

Three orgasms and two showers later, Keith finally came home, and we ran to the door to greet him, barking and squeaking.

"Down! Down!" he commanded. "Bad wolf! Bad mouse!"

I sat on my haunches, mollified. "I'm sorry." Tim's whiskers drooped.

Keith laughed. "That's so cute. Anyway, the important thing is that this may be the last beautiful day of the year, and I'm not going to wait until next spring for my first chance to take you for a walk around the lake. So be ready in five minutes; I'm going to change, and then we're going to head out."

I blinked. "What, at this hour?" It was late in the fall already; the sun had gone down almost an hour ago.

"It'll be a night walk," Keith agreed. "I'll bring a flashlight. And I'm not too worried about muggers; it's a nice neighborhood, and nobody's going to mess with a fox walking a wild wolf."

I was still a little apprehensive about the proposal, but I accepted. I'm glad I did. It really did turn out to be the perfect night for a walk. The night air was brisk, but still very comfortable. It left a pleasant chill on the end of your fur without really affecting your insides. Exquisite weather for my first experience going out in public naked. I wore nothing but my leash and collar, and I walked halfway around the lake on all fours. My arms still weren't used to supporting my weight so I eventually went bipedal again, but I swore I was going to work on building up my stamina. Tim started out scampering at our feet, but he quickly tired out and spent most of the walk in Keith's pocket, little nose and whiskers poking out to look out over the lake.

It turned out that I had a powerful penchant for exhibitionism lurking under my surface. I'd always been rather modest in public, but it occurred to me that it might have all just been an obligation. But now that I was a feral wolf, well, who says I have to wear pants anywhere? I strutted my stuff, not that there were many animals out that night to see me. Those who did gave us little more than a passing glance and a polite good evening. Bumping into a fox who's taking his pet wolf for a walk was a novelty, but otherwise completely within the realm of acceptable behavior. It felt... kind of nice. After a lifetime of suspicious looks and dodged eye contact, smaller animals were finally... well, not looking at me like they were worried about the safety of their bitty little throats.

It also opened up the opportunity for public urination. I tugged Keith insistantly aside. "Just a second here." It's kind of embarassing to admit it -- it's kind of a point of contention for me, always getting lumped in with "dog" behavior -- but I'd always secretly wanted to lift my leg at a fire hydrant. Most of the other scents were from more domestic breeds of canine; I sort of hoped they wouldn't feel too intimidated now that I'd moved in.

Tim was amused, but Keith just rolled his eyes. "I didn't bring any bags on this walk, so behave yourself," he warned.

It was the kind of night where it feels good just to be alive. Crunching leaves under your bare paws on the sidewalk, watching the moonlight dance along the ripples of the lake, listening to the soft chorus of crickets chirping all around. We talked about nothing in particular... Keith's day at work, my day at home with Tim, old memories of friends and family and high school. That sort of thing. It was a shame when we made our way back around to the parked car at last.

When we got home, Keith fired up the faux fireplace in the living room and made us some popcorn, and we all fell into a comfortable pile in front of it. Just three warm, lazy animals, hanging out together without a care in the world. I still had my doubts about what the future held, but mostly I was just... excited. Jazzed. Like this was the way I'd always wanted my life to be, even though I'd never imagined it was possible.