“Tom, please get our guest another drink while I fix supper.”

“By all means, Catherine.”

The prim and proper manner of my hosts still struck me as odd. They sounded like an English couple, yet looked… well, they looked like huge cats. I was fair pickings when they found me washed up on their doorstep, but instead of being supper, they invited me to the meal.

“Here you go,” said Tom. His long tawny tail swished back and forth. “I’ve added a restorative. Wouldn’t do for you to get sick after Catherine prepared such a lovely meal.”

I took the cup, thanked him, and turned away. Tom’s luminescent gold eyes made me shiver. They’d been nothing but kind and gentle, but it was hard to ignore long sharp fangs. Not to mention, the retractable claw Catherine used to gut tonight’s dinner. The pan seared fish smelled magnificent, but I couldn’t help but wonder what was on tomorrow’s menu.

I pushed that thought away. It wouldn’t be good form to turn into a bowl of quivering Jell-O.  “Where are you folks from?”

Catherine’s golden bronze fur rippled as she cooked, making her dark spots move around. “We originally came from planet Mau, although Tom and I grew up just outside of London. Our ancestors have studied your species for several thousand years.”

I put the cup of juice on the table before it spilled. My mind struggled to wrap itself around aliens and sentient cats. “A tiny, pacific island is a long way from London.”

“This isn’t an island, dear,” said Catherine. “It’s our spacecraft. London got too dangerous with all the cell phones and cameras. That’s why we don’t go outside until after dark. Humans have come a long way, but you are still way too unpredictable and violent.”

Sad to say, but she was right. And I was nothing but stray dog, a wild animal.

About A. L. Kaplan

I am a writer, artist, and parent.
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