Yes, that is a silly title for a Fiction Friday post. Am I going to use it anyway? Of course I am. What else would I call a story from the point of view of a certain small four-legged nuisance currently inhabiting my house? He caught a moth on the wing the other night, by the way. The nickname "cat-dog" gets more apt every day.
I apologize that this is one of my shorter Fiction Friday bits, and that it doesn't have much to do with anything. Honestly, I'm not having the best of times right now. I have not been able to get settled enough, emotionally, to really write anything for weeks, and spring allergies and storms aren't helping. Once again, my apologies.
Please, nonetheless, enjoy today's Fiction Friday post.
My name is Leaper, though my tall-ones do not know that. They call me by a sound of their own, one I cannot make for myself, and my brother the Friendly One they call by another sound. He is not really my brother, but we have been together for longer than I was with my real brother and sisters, and—
But I am telling my story all out of order.
I was born in a place of the tall-ones where the lights were bright and the walls were slick, the largest of my mother's four children. The tall-ones gave us names that made them laugh, but in the quiet of the nighttime my mother named us Leaper (which is me), Lover (who was my born-brother), and Sweet One and Thoughtful (who were my sisters). I never knew her name, for she was only "Mama" to us, and soon after I was eating real food along with her milk, before I was old enough to be curious about things like names, the tall-ones came and took me away from her.
Maybe I should have been sad and lonely without my mother and siblings, but the tall-ones put me with Friendly and right away I knew that he would take care of me. He can be a little dull sometimes, but at other times he plays like I want him to, and he is always very protective and keeps me safe from anyone who might want to hurt me.
After a little while of our being together, Friendly and I went on a long journey inside one of the tall-ones' moving machines. There were many others like us in the moving machine, and we stopped in many places to meet other tall-ones, who hugged and cuddled some of the others of our kind, and laughed and cried before the moving machine moved on. I did not understand what was happening, until the day the machine stopped and the tall-one in charge picked me up and carried me outside.
There were two tall-ones waiting there, though they were not so very tall as all that, and both of them were bent down so that they were not much taller than me or Friendly. They made noises to us and touched us gently, and laughed when I licked them to get their taste, and before too long I began to realize that these were my tall-ones, that I would belong to them, the way Friendly had told me that he had once belonged to a tall-one very like these two. He was so happy to meet them that he stood right up on his back legs, which made him very nearly as tall as they were.
So, now I have my home and my two tall-ones, who are not always smart but can be taught to do tricks if I am patient enough. Friendly thinks I am too bouncy, that I am going about it the wrong way. But then, what does he know.