An excerpt from In a Dog’s World. If you’d prefer, you can start with Chapter 1, return to the previous chapter, or skip ahead to the next chapter.
Jimothy brought a flashlight, but Katasha had no trouble seeing in the moonlit dark. She stepped silently through the undergrowth. His progress was much more audible.
The tree she led him to was a gnarled old oak. Both ancient and gigantic, it stretched out and up, dominating its little piece of forest entirely. The twisty branches were perfect for climbing, and Katasha’s retractable claws gave her all the grip she needed. Jimothy had to place his paws more carefully, reaching for good pawholds. His blunt canine claws simply weren’t as effective as Katasha’s at being grappling hooks.
“Hold up,” Jimothy said. “I can’t climb that fast.”
Katasha flicked her tail and stared down at Jimothy with glowing red eyes.
“Geez, Katasha,” he said when he looked up and caught her gaze. “You look spooky up there. If Preston — that’s the dachshund’s name, right? — wanted to be scared, he should’ve tried climbing a tree with you, rather than listening to Howell’s ghost story.”
Katasha lashed her tail, enjoying Jimothy’s teasing, but then she held a paw out and, with her back firmly braced against the tree’s trunk, helped pull Jimothy up. Working together, they made it high enough in the tree to see out over the tops of the other trees nearby.
“Do you know which way to look?” Katasha asked, once they were both settled, relatively secure on a sturdy upper branch.
Jimothy shook his head, “No.”
“Here,” Katasha said, holding a paw out to take the telescope. “I’ve done this before.” The telescope was cool and heavy. She stretched it out to its full length, nearly the length of her tail, and held the end up to her eye.
The stars looked the same. Katasha followed them, though, recognizing the different constellations, until she saw the bright, moving point that she recognized as the otter space station. Punching up the magnification with a sliding button on the side of the telescope, Katasha was able to zoom the view until the pinched toroidal shape of the space station became visible.
“I found it,” she said, gesturing for Jimothy to move closer. He brought his head toward hers, and Katasha moved her eye away from the telescope without changing its angle. Jimothy leaned his body against hers, placing his head right beside hers. She could feel his wiry beard against the side of her face as he put his eye to the telescope. Her whiskers were flattened against the curve of his cheek.
“Oh yeah,” he said. His voice quiet and full of awe.
“I’m going to build one of those,” Katasha said. “Some day.”
Jimothy pulled his head away enough to look at her. Their muzzles were very close now.
“Dreamer,” he said.
“Practical,” she said. “If we’re going to keep up with the otters, the Uplifted States needs its own space station.”
Jimothy nodded, considering her point. His leathery black nose almost bumped hers. For a moment, she thought this was it. Her first kiss. Then he put his eye to the telescope again.
They sat like that, taking turns with the telescope, talking quietly, and looking at stars and satellites for ages. Katasha’s heart raced the entire time. She’d have stayed in the tree, with her shoulder leaned against Jimothy’s, for the entire night if he hadn’t eventually suggested they head back to camp.
“We’re taking the bus back to Isleywood tomorrow,” he said. “We should be well rested.”
“You’re so practical,” Katasha said.
Jimothy smiled.
The climb down was harder than the climb up. Katasha’s limbs had stiffened from sitting in the cold. Everyone seemed to be asleep when they got back to camp. Six lumpy, snoring sleeping bags were arranged around the remnants of the fire. Katasha and Jimothy pulled their own sleeping bags out and claimed the remaining spaces. Jimothy ended up squeezed between the pile of backpacks and Preston the dachshund. Katasha found a space between Claire and Howell.
She had just pulled her nose under the warm flannel interior of her sleeping bag when Katasha heard Howell stirring. He was curled up on his side, facing away from her, but apparently he was awake.
“Did you see the space-station?” Howell whispered, his large voice husky with the effort to keep quiet.
“Yes,” Katasha whispered, her voice the barest hush.
Howell was quiet for a while, and Katasha almost thought he’d gone back to sleep. Then he continued in his whisper, “He’s a nice guy. But… be careful. Okay?”
Katasha didn’t answer. She could hear her own breathing and felt like Howell’s whispered words were deafening in the otherwise silence of the camp.
“It’s just…” Howell said, “Dogs aren’t always nice to cats.”
Katasha knew that. She tried to bite her tongue, but the words came out anyway. “It’s not like you’re a shining example of being nice,” she hissed.
In the guilty silence that followed, Katasha thought about Howell’s overall indifference to her during the week they’d been hiking together. It made her feel impotent and angry. She couldn’t make him care about her, and it was almost painfully poignant for him to finally express concern for her now.
Her final night, sleeping under the stars, was an anxious one. Tomorrow would bring change. Her small hiking group would be joined by all the others. Then the Intro to Isleywood hikers would be joined by the rest of the freshmen class. All the upperclassmen would follow two days later. And before the end of the week she’d be launched into a new school year. Suddenly, she’d be taking the most challenging classes she’d faced in her life. She was afraid of getting lost in all the changes.
Continue on to Chapter 17…