Free Unthinkable by Nancy Werlin

chair
skittered on the smooth floor, bumping up against the wall.
She looked down, flummoxed, and after staring hard, identified the problem. The chair was on little wheels. How bizarre.
What purpose was served by wheels on a chair?
“I won’t give up,” she said, though her voice shook. “I
cannot fail this time.”
“Fail at what?”
Startled, Fenella looked up to find the door to the office
open. Of course, it was Walker. He smiled at her as if it
wasn’t odd to find her talking to her cat. And he didn’t
seem to mind when she ducked her head without answering him.
He said, “So, I have this pamphlet for you. It explains why
we recommend neutering.”
Notice his nose, Fenella. Somebody flattened him once. I
can understand. He’s annoying.
Fenella took the pamphlet. “Thank you.”
Walker moved past Fenella. “You let Ryland out, good.”
Ryland displayed pointed incisors to Walker.
Walker put on a pair of thick gloves. Ryland stood stockstill, visibly tolerating the human while Walker examined
his fur, his body, his legs, his mouth and teeth. He even
tolerated getting shots, a medical process which Fenella
watched with great interest, while thinking again about
Minnie. It was only when Walker took up the nail clippers
and held the cat down that Ryland let loose again with creative invective aimed into Fenella’s mind.
“This is a healthy cat,” Walker said at last. “A good weight.
Good teeth and gums.” He looked over his shoulder at
Fenella. “Where did you get him?”
Someone gave me to you, said Ryland sourly. A woman
who said she couldn’t keep me.
Fenella repeated it.
“Really? Near here? Where?”
You don’t really remember.
Fenella repeated this too.
“Oh.” Walker frowned.
Fenella said firmly, “He’s my cat now.” As Walker removed his gloves, she stood up and stepped close to the
counter, and then picked Ryland up in her arms. The cat
settled down against her chest, nuzzling close. She found
that, automatically, she was stroking him. His fur was lush
and soft, and her fingers sank in and disappeared.
She was going ahead. Of course she was going ahead.
And she’d be a fool not to use Ryland’s help as best she
could.
“Can you drive us back to the house now?” she asked
Walker.
“Yeah, sure, of course.” He looked frustrated. “I’m just
worried about Ryland getting along with Pierre. We have
boarding here. Maybe you could leave Ryland for a day or
two? There’s a discount I can get you—”
No, thank you. We’ll manage.
“We’ll manage,” said Fenella. “But thank you.”
In her arms, the cat purred.
And so, in the end, it was Pierre who went off to board,
an hour later. “Only for a few days, sweetheart,” Lucy
crooned to the visibly unhappy poodle as she prepared to
take him outside to Walker’s truck. “This way, Walker can
check your eye and make sure everything is healing the
way it should.”
Once Pierre was gone, Fenella released Ryland from his
carrier. She picked him up. He closed his eyes, as if he had
instantly gone to sleep in her arms, but she could feel he was
awake, alert, and monitoring everything.
Zach shrugged awkwardly. “Don’t worry, Fenella. Pierre
likes the kennel fine. They have a fenced backyard, and the
dogs are allowed to mingle. Pierre always makes friends.
And when he comes back  .  .  .” He glanced at the cat in
Fenella’s arms. “By the time Pierre comes back, we’ll have
figured out some way for him and your cat to get along. Or
how to separate them reliably. I have no idea how, exactly,
but we will.” He paused. “Like, maybe there’s some perfume
we can buy to make the cat smell better.”
“The cat smells bad?” Fenella sniffed at Ryland.
I do not! Ryland said indignantly. I’m very clean!
“To Pierre he does,” said Zach. “We could concoct something attractive. Essence of hamburger.”
“What?” said Fenella blankly.
“But we don’t want Pierre to eat the cat,” Lucy joked as