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Fiction Happy

Ms. Jingles came into her life first - unprompted and unplanned.


Amanda slammed her car door shut and huddled next to the blasting heater. She wiped away the condensation on her windshield and peered outside. Snow was falling at a steady rate. The parking lot was full of slush and puddles. She couldn’t wait to get home and have a strong cup of hot apple cider.


Twisting the key in the ignition, she set the car in reverse. Her foot was hovering over the gas pedal when something caught her eye. It was a square of brown in a sea of white - a cardboard box on one of the lot islands. As she watched, something black darted out of one of the box’s holes, clawing at the rocks before disappearing back inside.


Amanda sat there for a second, considering all her options. There was obviously some sort of animal in that box, and it needed help. But she was cold, wet, and wanted to go home with no extra responsibilities heaped onto her shoulders. The thought then crossed her mind of how much colder and wetter that creature was in that box. Her mind was made up in an instant.


She creaked open the car door and was met with a fridged blast of air. She hurried across the watery asphalt and crouched next to the cardboard box. Its edges were soggy, and there was a layer of snow covering the flaps. She brushed the snow away and flipped the box open.


Two huge yellow eyes met her own. A small black cat was crouched in a tight bundle in the corner. It bared its tiny fangs and began hissing and spitting at Amanda.

Naturally, it was love at first sight.


Amanda brought the cat home, and for the first few days, she barely saw it. It would slink under the bed or couch at any new sound or noise. Amanda would set out food and water in the morning and in the evening the bowls would be empty, but she never saw the cat eat.


Slowly, and with the prompting of many cans of wet food, the cat began to linger out in the open more. She would watch Amanda’s every move with suspicious eyes, muscles tensed and ready to bolt at any sudden movement.


On the sixth day, Amanda was on the couch, flipping between TV channels. Out of nowhere, the cat appeared at her elbow. It leaned forward, lifting a paw and resting it on her leg. Amanda held her breath. The cat gave her a long stare. Then, in one smooth motion, it stepped fully onto her lap, adjusted itself, then curled into a ball. Slowly, Amanda lowered her hand onto the skinny cat’s frame and began to stroke it. The slightest of purrs whispered in the cat’s chest.


The cat became more relaxed after that. She lounged around the house, cuddled, and meowed incessantly for food. It was the meows, and their high-pitched sing-songy nature, that led Amanda to naming the cat Ms. Jingles.


A few months later, Peanut came into their lives.


One of Amanda’s friends, Jade, was looking for a pet herself, and they went to the shelter together. They passed concrete kennels full of barking dogs, big and small. While Jade crouched next to kennel with a golden retriever on the other side, Amanda’s gaze wandered until it settled on the bulldog next door. It was one of the quiet ones, sitting there with its stubby legs sticking out in front of it. Teeth pointed out past its jowls, and sad pink-ringed eyes stared out from a deep-wrinkled face. He contemplated Amanda for a moment, then lowered his head to the ground and let out a heavy sigh.


Amanda asked one of the attendants about the bulldog. She learned that his name was Peanut, and that he had been surrendered by a family who didn’t want him anymore because of his old age. She asked what might happen to him and was told that he since he was a senior dog, it was likely no one would adopt him.

Her stomach twisted into a knot when she heard this.


Jade made her selection (she went with the golden retriever) and Amanda drove home, flipping through the radio channels. She scratched Ms. Jingles behind the ears and stared out the window. Her reflection stared back at her, framed by the darkened skyline and trees. All that she could think about was that sad little dog sitting in that kennel, alone and unwanted. Her hand squeezed into a fist as she thought about the family who had abandoned him there when he became an inconvenience.

He was alone, but that night he became wanted again.


The next day she went straight to her landlord and asked if she could have another pet. He said no, one cat was enough. Undeterred, Amanda offered more money for the pet deposit. Again, the landlord refused, saying that the risk factor for property damage went up with a dog. Amanda left his office brewing but quickly formed a new plan.


On Saturday, she went to the shelter with a car full of balloons. She explained her plan to the attendants, and they agreed to help her with enthusiasm and grins. Together, they arranged the balloons into a colorful backdrop behind Peanut, and Amanda began snapping pictures of him. His stubby tail waggled at all the extra attention being shown to him, and he gave Amanda a few licks.


Amanda formatted these pictures onto a spiffy looking pet resume, which raved about all the positive attributes Peanut had. It also came with the shelter’s highest recommendations and assurances that he was not a destructive animal. She then brought this resume, along with a platter of the landlord’s favorite cookies, to his office and requested to have Peanut a final time. The landlord, who she had always been on good terms with, finally caved, but he did increase the pet deposit. Amanda didn’t care.


She went and got Peanut that evening.


Ms. Jingles was lounging on the recliner when Amanda brought in Peanut. His claws clacked on the hardwood floor, and he waddled around the living room sniffing and snorting at his new surroundings. Ms. Jingles watched him through slitted eyes, tail twitching. Amanda waited for them to notice each other with bated breath. She figured there was a 50/50 chance they would get along right off the bat but knew that animals could have a difficult time adjusting to newcomers. She hoped it would be a smooth transition.


After sneezing on one of Amanda’s slippers, Peanut looked up and saw Ms. Jingles. He began barking; it was one of those really hoarse grumbly barks that come from solid units like the bulldog. Amanda rushed over to calm him, but it was too late. Ms. Jingles had already taken off and was hiding behind the couch. Amanda sighed. Oh well. It was optimistic to have expected a smooth first meeting. Hopefully they would get used to each other’s presence.


Things did get a bit better between the two animals. Once Peanut realized Ms. Jingles was a part of the household, he became more curious about her. She would be sleeping in a sunbeam on the floor, and he’d come shuffling over and sniff her tail. She’d immediately hiss at him, and if he lingered longer than five seconds, she’d swipe him with her paw and scamper off. Similar exchanges like this happened, and Peanut always looked bewildered after them. 


That wasn’t to say that Ms. Jingles wasn’t entirely innocent in these exchanges as well. Amanda started noticing Peanuts toys starting to mysteriously disappear. He would be snorting and shuffling around the room looking for his toys, but they weren’t in their usual places. After some searching, Amanda discovered them crammed deep under the couch. She didn’t know how they got there, until she spotted how attentively Ms. Jingles watched Peanut searching for his toys. Amanda wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she was pretty sure she saw a mischievous glitter in those big yellow eyes.


Events like this began to stack up, and Amanda began to worry that she had made a mistake. It was obvious that Peanut liked Ms. Jingles; he was always trying to lick her. But she was so aloof and would swat at him if he got too close or was too rough with her. Amanda wished they would get along better but never forced the issue. She didn’t want her pets to be stressed out by each other’s presence.


It was difficult to consider, but she began to think that maybe it would be best if one of them were rehomed. Most likely it would have to be Ms. Jingles, because not many people would be willing to take in an old senior dog. Her heart ached at the thought of losing Ms. Jingles, but in the end, it was Ms. Jingles’ peace that was at stake. And no matter what it cost herself, Amanda would make sure Ms. Jingles was happy.


“Do you know anyone who would be interested in taking Ms. Jingles?” Amanda asked Jade one night. It was Friday, and they were hanging out at Amanda’s watching movies together. 


“Maybe.” Jade glanced around the living room. “Where is Ms. Jingles anyways?”


“She’s in the backyard. She likes to prowl around.”


“My mom might be interested, but Ms. Jingles would have to become an indoor cat. My mom lives in an apartment.”


Amanda swallowed, trying to push down the lump in her throat. Ms. Jingles loved to roll around in the dirt and leap after bugs in the grass. It would be a difficult adjustment, but it might be a necessary one.


Peanut, who had been lounging next to Jade’s feet, stirred, lumbered to his feet. He waddled over to the back door and Amanda let him out to do his business. She lingered there, leaning against the doorframe and staring at the dark forest along the edges of her backyard. She strained her eyes to try and catch sight of Ms. Jingles, but that was like trying to catch sight of a red Skittle in a bowl of red M&Ms. Was Amanda making the right call? Maybe she was rushing into this and should wait to see if her pets got along better. But what if she waited too long and Ms. Jingle’s fur started falling out from the stress?


She was so caught up in these spinning thoughts, that she nearly missed it.

In the blink of an eye, a large canine shape darted out from the forest and streaked toward Peanut. The mass of grey fur and fangs slammed into the dog, and a fanged mouth latched onto Peanut’s leg and violently started swinging him around. A scream pierced the night, high-pitched and shrieking so loud it made the hair on Amanda’s skin stand up.


She bolted from the house, sprinting after the animal as it dragged Peanut into the forest.


A shrub on her left shuddered, and a blur of blackness streaked out. She was barely able to make out the shape of Ms. Jingles as she rocketed past her and hurled herself at the animal. The animals melded together into a dark mass of yowling and snarling. Amanda pumped her legs harder, straining to make out what was happening.

She was only a few paces away when the larger animal darted away. Peanut was howling when Amanda skidded to a stop beside him. Ms. Jingles was standing in front of him, tail bristled and back hunched in an arch.


Choking back panic, Amanda crouched down and slid her hands under Peanut. His right leg was wet and limp, and she had to hold it close to his body so it didn’t flop around. She lifted him and ran back to the house. Jade was standing at the door as Amanda passed her. She twisted around and shouted for Ms. Jingles. Ms. Jingles, who had been standing guard at the tree line, turned and ripped across the lawn, darting past Amanda’s legs. Amanda slammed the door shut.


Everyone piled into Amanda’s car and sped down to the nearest emergency vet clinic. They barged in through the front door, and the receptionist only had to take one look at Peanut whimpering in Amanda’s arms before calling for backup.


A Veterinarian rushed out of one of the rooms. He took Peanut carefully into his arms and briskly walked down the hall. Now it was just Amanda, Jade, and Ms. Jingles who was beginning to squirm in Jade’s arms.


They waited. A deep silence settled over the room. A clock was ticking somewhere. The building groaned as the night wind picked up. Amanda was bent over with her elbows on her knees and chin resting in her hands, staring down at the cream-colored tiles. Ms. Jingles, who had been slinking around the lobby, jumped up onto the seat next to Amanda and touched her leg with her paw. Amanda stared at her. Slowly, she leaned back. Ms. Jingles climbed onto her lap.


As Ms. Jingles was being treated for her scrapes and scratches, Amanda explained what had happened. The vet tech listening guessed it had probably been a coyote that had attacked. She said that if it hadn’t been for Ms. Jingles scaring the coyote off, Peanut might not have made it.


It was a couple of hours later before the Veterinarian reemerged. He said that Peanut had been a brave old boy, and that he was going to pull through. His leg was ripped up pretty badly, but they had stitched it up and put it in a cast. It would take some time, but he would eventually heal. Amanda sagged in her chair, relief surging through her veins and making her lightheaded.


After dropping Jade off at her apartment, Amanda headed back home and got Peanut settled in his doggy bed. She stroked his head and rubbed his velvety ear between her thumb and forefinger. As she whispered to him how good of a boy he was, Ms. Jingles padded over. She sniffed the white cast on Peanut’s leg, gave him a hard look, then sauntered away. As Amanda watched her leave, it occurred to her that affection had many different signs, and perhaps she had missed some of the signs Ms. Jingles had for Peanut. After all, what cat would risk its life to save a dog they despised? 


Amanda contemplated all of this as the chaotic night slowly stretched into a serene lull. There were going to be challenges with Peanut’s recovery, but one matter was at least settled in her mind.


Ms. Jingles was not going anywhere.

February 21, 2025 04:33

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