An Introductory Domestic Scene

Over on FurAffinity every Thursday, Renee Carter Hall, known over there as Poetigress, posts what she calls "the Thursday Prompt": a word or phrase designed to get you thinking and writing. I've started doing them, and here's the first, sparked by the word "abandoned."

     "The Abandoned, I think you mean."

     I looked up from my laptop to the cat sprawled along 

the windowsill above and behind me, the scant sunlight of 

the February afternoon frosting her fine black fur with 

silver.  "I beg your pardon?"

     Her whiskers twitched, her eyes not opening.  "Don't

beg, August.  It makes you seem even more canine than usual."

     "It's just an expression, El Brujo.  I'm not actually--"  

I stopped and swallowed the rest of my complaint.  It 

doesn't do any good, and besides, if she's not digging 

her claws in literally or metaphorically, she doesn't 

feel she's doing her job.  "I just wanted to know what 

you meant."

     "The Abandoned."  She flicked her tail to 

bap me softly on the top of my head.  "The first novel by 

Paul Gallico--or at least his first novel of any interest--

it tells the quite affecting tale of wild felines living in 

post World War II Great Britain, then comes completely undone 

with an ending that is nothing short of an abomination."  Her 

eyes slitted open, dark and caramel brown.  "Oh, I'm sorry; I 

didn't mean to begin discussing literature when it's nearly 

time for your little pony program."

     I glanced at the clock.  She was right about that, at 

least.  I saved the file I was working on, folded my laptop 

closed, and began maneuvering myself from the bed to my waiting 

wheelchair.  "Which means I'll have a lap available for the 

next half hour," I said.  "Should anyone be interested."

     A light thud from the blankets I'd just scooted out 

from under.  "I just hope this episode features that seamstress 

unicorn.  She's the only character in the entire series with the 

sense to have a cat."

     Lifting my legs, I set my feet on the floor, grabbed 

the chair's arms, and swung myself into the seat.  "You need a 

ride to the front room?"

     "Of course."  She hopped from the bed onto my 

thighs and pressed her warm, damp nose into the crook of my 

neck.  "After all, you'd be lost without my constant and 

unswerving devotion, would you not?"

     I scratched her ears.  "You know I would, Bru."  

The sweet rumble of her purr rattled my whole body and made 

me smile.  "You know I would."  I undid the wheel locks and 

rolled us into the hallway.

The story then continues with 2.