As Dan drove away from the old house, he walled off the galloping chaos of thoughts that charged around in his head.  The moon was setting fast, and he knew that he needed to return the van, pick up his car and get away from the Pound before the day shift showed up.  Once that was done, he would have to break the news of what had happened to his wife without her thinking he was crazy, packing up Junior and going home to Mother.

He parked the van in its accustomed spot, and breathing quickly, he wiped down all the cells in the place, especially the one where the cats had been kept.  He wasn’t sure why, but instinct drove him to make sure neither scent nor print was left of his strange night visitors.  He then burned the rags in the incinerator.  He tore off his uniform, changing to his street clothes, and burned that as well.  After thinking a moment, he also burned the registry of animals captured for the last three days.

Using the tail of his shirt to make sure he did not touch the door knob, he locked up and bolted for his car.  He spun out of the driveway just as the sun was painting the sky pink and gold.

“Lydia! Lydia!” he called as he entered the apartment. “I need your help.  Get Junior up; he won’t need to go to school today.”

On the drive over he had decided that least said before confronted with actual cats (cat people?) the better.

“Dan?  What’s going on?  Are you ok?  Is someone sick?”

“Sick? Not exactly, but in trouble for sure.  You know that nice new law degree you got but can’t get work with?  I’ve got a client for you.”

“Oh!  Of course, then.  I’ll get dressed right away.  Can you finish making breakfast?” Dan heard her soft footsteps going down the hall, and her voice as she got their son up and gave directions to him.

He surveyed the kitchen.  Eggs and cold cereal were laid out on the counter, so he surmised that fried eggs, cereal and juice were planned for breakfast.  He quickly set out plates, and cups, keeping an ear out for his family as he set to work.

By the time his wife and son had returned, spit and polished as suited a professional appointment, he had their breakfasts and his own laid out.  He had thought he would be unable to eat, but smelling the eggs, he found that he was hungry.  He bolted his share, and mumbled something about getting cleaned up while they ate.  He changed clothing quickly.  Even so, the others had finished with their food by the time he returned.

He drove back across town to the old house.  He knocked on the door.  “It’s me,” he called out.  The door swung open, but no one was in view.  In the bowl chair, the little gray cat was still curled asleep.  Through the door at the back of the room, Dan could see the first sun tinging the curtains with gold.  As the light touched the floor of the kitchen, the cat stretched, yawned, and turned into a small woman with graying curls, dressed in an old-fashioned nighty of gray flannel edged in soft white lace.

Behind him he heard his wife gasp.  He reached back and grabbed her elbow to keep her from bolting.  His son stood still and gaped.  “Mommy…Daddy…wasn’t she a cat just a minute ago?”

His mother was speechless.  “Yeah,” Dan said laconically, “She was.  Honey, that’s your new client.”

Chapter 1:  Old Woman Who Kept Cats