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Alma was more than a little worried when Kamila started begging her for a puppy.
It was normal for kids her age to be interested in pets, she knew, and it wasn't as if she didn't trust Kamila to take care of one—her daughter was young and occasionally a bit absent-minded, but she was also remarkably clever. (Comes from her mother's side, Jowd always loved to tell her.) It wasn't even that she didn't like dogs; they were good, dependable animals, and certainly an only child with far fewer friends than she deserved could have a worse companion than a puppy. It was just…
“Well, Sissel's such an old cat,” Alma said, running her hand over smooth black fur. “Don't you worry that having a new animal in the house might be difficult for him?”
Jowd's shoulders shook as he chuckled. “I wouldn't worry too much about that. Sissel's practically a kitten still, don't you think?”
“He's tiny, not invincible. A bigger animal might frighten him,” Alma said with a frown. She loved Jowd for his cheer, but it could sometimes be frustrating. Often she felt he was telling some joke only he could understand.
Sissel blinked up at her, yellow eyes gleaming under the kitchen's bright lights, and meowed softly. He seemed almost offended by her words, as if the very thought of a mere dog bullying him was too absurd to consider.
“Well, we wouldn't have to get a big dog, anyway,” Jowd said. “Something smaller would probably be easier to take care of. A chihuahua, or a yorkie, or…”
“A pomeranian,” Alma said.
Jowd looked at her with a sly, knowing grin.
Alma scowled back at him, trying not to laugh. “Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I agree. It's just that a girl I knew had one growing up. I always thought they were adorable.”
By now, she had to admit the idea was starting to sound tempting. Sissel was a marvelously affectionate cat, always willing to curl up in her or Kamila's or Jowd's lap when they were feeling sad, but there was only one of him and three humans in the household. A dog could help Kamila get out more, maybe even give Sissel some company when Kamila was at school and she and Jowd were working.
Oh no. Jowd was winning her over, wasn't he? She never could hold out against that smile of his for very long. Something about it was contagious.
Poor Sissel. If this dog ended up bothering him, she was going to feel like the worst pet owner in the world.
“All right.” Alma sighed and pinched her brow. “I'm willing to consider it. But you have to help Kamila take care of it, okay? I have a lot going on at work these next few months, and she can't do it all on her own.”
Her husband laughed. The booming sound echoed around the room. “It's a deal! I'll let Kamila know tomorrow.” He leaned over Alma's lap, his side resting against her shoulders, and gave Sissel a light scratch. “You excited to see your new friend?”
Sissel meowed softly, arching up against Jowd's hand. His dark ears flicked back and forth.
If Alma didn't know better, she would have almost said he looked pleased.
---
It didn't take Jowd long to find them a dog.
Part of that was on Kamila, of course; the moment she heard she was going to get a puppy she had gone through the roof with excitement. For the past week all Alma had heard from her daughter was talk about what her dog would look like, what its name would be, how cute the dog bowls and bed she'd picked out for it were… Alma had known Kamila would be happy, but somehow she hadn't expected her to be quite this overjoyed.
Jowd, for his part, had been incredibly methodical about the whole thing, refusing to look at any of the breeders' advertisements Alma clipped out of the newspapers. Instead, he'd fixated on one particular shelter almost half an hour away—a shelter, moreover, that didn't even have any Pomeranians.
“Patience,” was all he would tell her, that bright beaming grin of his lighting up his face.
(Alma loved her husband, but sometimes she wanted to strangle him.)
And then, this afternoon, right after Kamila had gotten home from school, the call came in.
Yes, the shelter had just gotten a Pomeranian puppy—neutered and healthy and ready to go home. Yes, they'd be willing to hold it until Jowd got there.
She didn't understand how Jowd had known, but he had. By now that sort of thing was hardly a surprise, coming from him.
“You're ridiculous,” Alma had told him as she handed him his keys, trying and failing not to smile. “I think you've let all that detective power of yours go to your head.”
He'd smiled and leaned in for a kiss, fondness and cheer and something almost wistful lighting up his face—and then they'd jumped apart, startled out of the moment by the sound of their daughter yelling from the driveway.
“Come on, Dad! Someone else is going to get him if we don't hurry.”
And, well, there was no arguing with Kamila on that matter.
Now, Alma was sitting in the living room, eyes on the front door, a mug of tea in her hand and a cat on her lap. They'd be home any minute now, and with them the new puppy.
“You excited, Sissel?” she asked.
He blinked sleepily up at her.
A sudden noise turned her attention away from Sissel, and she looked back up just in time to see Kamila burst through the front door, a squirming ball of fluff and tongue and tail clutched in her arms.
“Look!” Kamila said. Her face was lit up with so much excitement she looked as though she might burst.
“Oh, honey, he's adorable.” Alma had to admit it was a very cute dog, at least from what she could see of it through all the wild and joyous thrashing it was doing. “Did you pick out a name for him, then?” Last she could remember, either Tesla or Hubble had been the name of choice, but Kamila had changed her mind on that subject dozens of times in the past few days.
Kamila nodded. “I'm going to call him Missile.”
“Oh? I don't remember hearing that name before.”
“I didn't think of it before. It suits him, though.”
Looking at the dog, Alma couldn't say she disagreed.
“Maybe we should give him a little bit of time to calm down before introducing him to… Sissel?”
Alma looked down, only to find that Sissel had disappeared from her lap when she wasn't looking. Instead, he was sitting at Kamila's feet, staring up at the new dog with an intense look in his golden eyes. His tail lashed slowly back and forth.
“I think Sissel wants to meet him,” Kamila said.
Alma frowned. “Well,” she said reluctantly, “be very careful, okay?”
Kamila nodded and, after rearranging her arms to get a more solid grip on her dog, slowly lowered Missile down until he was at eye level with Sissel.
For a moment, the two only looked at each other. Missile was all but vibrating, his bushy tail lashing back and forth like a duster. Sissel was as calm and still as ever. Only his eyes and his tail showed any sort of movement.
Finally, with no fanfare at all, Sissel leaned in and licked Missile on the nose. Missile yelped in return, a sound of surprise and overwhelming glee, and stretched forward in Kamila's arms until he was close enough to leave a long trail of sloppy kisses all across Sissel's head and ears.
Kamila leaned forward with a delighted laugh. “I think they're going to be friends!”
A smile pulled its way across Alma's mouth as she watched the two of them: Missile squirming desperately, Sissel tolerating the affection (and slobber) with a fond sort of patience. “Well, what do you know,” she said, “I think so too.”