Shreddy and the Zomb-dogs

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Anthropomorphic Dreams Podcast, November 2011


“Glowing eyes looked into the night, and what Shreddy saw made his fur stand straight on end. Puppies rose from their graves.”

When Shreddy was a young cat, he and the Red-Haired Woman lived alone.  Shreddy enjoyed his youth and, in later years, he often daydreamed of those days before the Red-Haired Woman declared:  “I think I’ll take up a hobby.”

Shreddy wasn’t worried at the time.  She’d taken up a hobby before, growing orchids, and he’d found her pastime perfectly delightful.  Delectable, even.  This time, the Red-Haired Woman decided to grow something that Shreddy couldn’t eat. Continue reading “Shreddy and the Zomb-dogs”

The Necromouser

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Nautilus Engine, July 2008


“If that machine could help him raise the dead — and possibly channel his mind into the resurrected corpses, using them as his minions — it would give him Great Power.”

Shreddy never had a particular taste for fish, but he’d been in a sour mood for days.

The Red-Haired Woman had won their latest skirmish over the orchids.  She’d cordoned off the kitchen window with chicken wire.  Shreddy rattled the wire, pulling with his claws at the edges.  He shoved his face into the few centimeters between wire and wall, wrinkling his nose and squinting his eyes at the discomfort, but the wire didn’t have enough give.  Shreddy couldn’t get his head through. Continue reading “The Necromouser”

Gerty and the Doesn’t-Smell-Like-a-Melon

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Golden Visions Magazine, October 2010


“Lainey kept asking about what the gryphons had been like, and the master told her what he remembered about them. Gerty, however, couldn’t keep listening. She was too worried by her latest find.”

Gerty had been snuffle-snorting about the melon patches all morning.  She was looking for little people to play with, but all the bugs and mice seemed to be hiding today.  Dormancy was in the air.

She tried asking a bird to play with her, but it was so high in the branches of the karillow tree that she had to shout at it.  And the master scolded her for barking.  The bird flew away anyway.  They always did.

Continue reading “Gerty and the Doesn’t-Smell-Like-a-Melon”

The Wharf Cat’s Mermaid

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in ROAR Volume 5, July 2014


“If Mari had been a less patient kitten, she might have failed. As it was, the race between her slowly growing skills and her rapidly growing hunger was a close call.”

The scraggly white kitten crouched, trembling, behind the crates of fish.  The smell was thick, but the scraps were thin.  She’d been skittering from one stall to the next at Fisherman’s Wharf all day, mewing for bits to eat.  Few of the vendors favored her with more than a glance.  One had chased her off with a broom. Continue reading “The Wharf Cat’s Mermaid”

St. Kalwain and the Lady Uta

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in ROAR Volume 4, June 2012


“My own deeds have made me a saint. The faerie queen made me a beast.”

Snow bent the boughs of the karillow trees, and ice silvered the soft buds at their tips.  Spring had come too early this year, and all the eager young plants would pay a price for their enthusiasm.  Flowers killed by frost.

St. Kalwain didn’t mind the snow.  His black fur was thick and warm.  He found it insufferably so whenever he kept the company of humans.  Their houses were always warmed by raging hearth fires.  Their walls held in the heat.  And they insulated themselves with layers of cloaks and clothes.  They expected him to layer himself with clothes too.  He remembered a time when he chose to wear clothes out of modesty.  Now, he preferred to sleep in the wild.  In the snow.  Alone and far from humans. Continue reading “St. Kalwain and the Lady Uta”

The Best and Worst of Worlds

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Dogs of War, January 2017


“Cats loved conquest; dogs needed adventure. But Cetazed otteroids were happy splashing about and playing.”

Five officers of the Tri-Galactic Navy and one exchange officer from the planet Cetazed teleported down to a clearing on Planet 328’s surface.  The cats and dogs of the Tri-Galactic Navy were good people, and Consul Eliana Tor didn’t regret leaving her homeworld to become an exchange officer.  Not exactly.  But she missed the flavor of the sunlight on Cetazed, and not only did her empathic abilities make her a fish out of water around these cats and dogs with their non-empathic minds, but they let her read the cats’ and dogs’ emotions — especially their feelings about her — constantly. Continue reading “The Best and Worst of Worlds”

Hidden Intentions

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Analog Science Fiction and Fact, March/April 2017

“S’lisha wanted to claw the child’s little face off, but the captain wouldn’t like that. And she needed this job.”

S’lisha drew a deep, calming breath through her scaly nostrils.  She didn’t understand why humans brought their children on spaceships.  Her species kept their larval offspring in caves on their home world until they matured and their adult scales grew in.  Continue reading “Hidden Intentions”

Questor’s Gambit

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Gods With Fur, June 2016

“The Collie was trapped on an alien vessel with a critical mission to accomplish. He did not have time for this cat’s games.”

Commander Bill Wilker’s angular muzzle split into a wide collie grin, and he smoothed down his ruff of fur that spilled regally out of the collar of his Tri-Galactic Navy uniform.  “That’s a goddamned beautiful lookin’ planet,” he said.

And it was a goddamned beautiful planet on the viewscreen.  It was green and round and blue — everything that a planet should be, not like the desolate lava balls and crater-faced lumps in the last several star-systems.  This planet practically screamed, “Shore leave!” and Bill Wilker was ready to take up that cry. Continue reading “Questor’s Gambit”

The Mouse Who Was Born a Bear

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in A Glimpse of Anthropomorphic Literature, Volume 3, August 2016


“Wait,” Maureen said. “Can I–” she hesitated, looking at the closed clone pod. “Can I look at my new body first?”

Maureen lumbered toward the Re-Incorpus Center, feeling horribly large and conspicuous.  Wire fencing on either side of the sidewalk protected her from the yelling protesters.  Nothing protected her from reading the hateful slogans on their signs:  Re-Incorpus Is Murder!  Vat-Bodies Have No Souls!  Death to Gen-Clones! Continue reading “The Mouse Who Was Born a Bear”

Sheeperfly’s Lullaby

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in A Glimpse of Anthropomorphic Literature, Issue 2, March 2016


“Butterflies don’t live as long as sheep, and Soft-as-Snow feared her tiny daughter would die. So she sang White Wings lullabies filled with sadness and fear, hope and protection, woven through and through with love.”

Sheep tell many tales as they graze. There’s little to do in a grassy field but count the clouds, search for four-leafed clovers, and tell tall tales.  Yet, some of the sheep’s tales are true, and when Soft-as-Snow stares at the clouds with her liquid brown eyes, she isn’t counting them.  She’s searching, seeking, and hoping against hope — waiting for White Wings to return to her. Continue reading “Sheeperfly’s Lullaby”