PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter XVIII Part I

Olive's fur nearly lept off of their body as the door's handle made a loud cranking noise, then swung meekly outwards, away from the chilly living room of Coco's. Mitt let their eyes drift up from the floor as they passed through the entrance, then let the gaze linger on Olive's tepid visage for a moment in recognition. Mitt blinked, pursed their lips somewhat, and looked away from the red mutt as they entered in, followed by a tiny bit of chattering from behind them.

"Mitt, look, I'm sorry," Sparky said, rubbing at the back of his thickly furred ears as he tried to apologize to the cat. "I know you said three minutes but..."

"Look, Sparky; it's your life. Literally. If you want to stay outside and risk..." they paused, getting caught up in being mindful of their words.

Mitt's hesitation gave the last dog to come through the door ample time to voice his displeasure. "Ughhh," Cujo groaned, "that was awfulllll." The dog looked queasy and stumbled through the doorway drunkenly. "I think I'm just gonna lie down on..." he looked around the living room, scanning for something to rest on from behind his glasses, "... You guys don't have a TV? I mean- eh, nevermind. You don't have a couch, do you?" he asked, almost slurring his words from the nausea.

"This is Coco's place. Not mine." Mitt said, letting the golden direct his gaze elsewhere.

"Ohhhh, right, do you think they'd mind if I slept on the floor?" Cujo asked, completely genuine.

Mitt addled their eyes, narrowed their brows, and curled their lip in disgust. They looked incredibly confused as they let loose a low "uhhhhhhh," seemingly in disbelief that anyone would choose to sit on the floor.

Olive smirked and just barely suppressed a giggle. Their thoughts drifted to how easily the golden could use his plush ears as pillows and how the paw-length fur across his body could serve as both mattress and blanket.

As soon as Mitt began to groan, however, Cujo went wide-eyed and froze up like a deer in headlights. As soon as he realized what he was doing, the dog began to sweat and awkwardly chuckle. He exhaled, then began to scratch underneath one of his huge ears as he spoke to Mitt, "Heh, I'm kidding. I'm sure there are people who do that stuff, but it's like... kinda weird, isn't it?"

Mitt looked away from the dog, fixing their face and shrugging. "I don't know," they grumbled, "and I don't really care much if people do or not... is that more of a dog thing, though? I've never heard of a cat doing that."

"Maybe, iunno."

"Well, s-sometimes the floor is so nice and cold..." Olive commented, using the peace of mind they had gained a few minutes earlier to power their words.

Cujo stifled a laugh, "Wait, you actually sleep on the floor, then?" he said in a slightly demeaning manner.

Olive shrivelled up at the barest hint of negativity. "W-Well n-no," they stammered, "b-but I guess I would understand if someone wanted to do that, i-is what I'm saying..."

Sparky looked at Olive with a pleading look as Rover continued to stare at the floor and kick around the pom-poms which extended from the edge of the carpet.

Mitt grumbled, looking at Cujo distastefully. "If you really don't want to lie down on the floor like Olive's doing, then just go to the bathroom, or something."

Cujo winced, first at Mitt's tone, then his own nausea. "Uhh... Yeah, I guess that's a better idea... Are you alright though?"

Mitt sighed. "No, not really. I'm very irritable right now," Mitt said very matter-of-factly, glowering at the dog.