Amy stopped just before we reached the park gate and set me down on the grass.
I immediately flopped over on my side. “Um, Amy?” I called, trying my best not to panic. “I can’t move.”
“Stop fooling around,” she whisper-yelled. “Someone’s going to notice.”
I tried to roll onto my feet, but literally nothing happened. “I’m not kidding.” And now I was also starting to freak out.
“Moss, seriously.” Amy yanked the leash hard. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
I was still laying on my side, but now I was being dragged through the thick grass like a broken toy. Oh, the indignity!
“Amy!” I shouted as loud as I could. “This is not okay! I am not okay!”
She turned to glare at me, as if this whole thing was my fault.
“Oh my, what a pretty girl!” an older lady remarked, taking note of my pink harness.
“Just kill me,” I whined. “It would be easier for all of us if you ended this now.”
“He’s a boy, actually,” Amy said with a polite smile.
“I’m a man!” I protested.
“Well, he’s quite the talker. Isn’t he? My cat is the same way whenever I try to take him out on the harness.”
“Oh, yeah?” Amy asked, suddenly very interested in what this stranger had to say. “What do you do to get him to behave?”
The old woman giggled. “Oh, sweetie. I’m guessing this is your first cat. Make a cat behave? Oh, what a hoot.” She gave me one last lingering look before continuing down the city street, leaving me and Amy to work out our problem for ourselves.
Once she was out of earshot, Amy leaned down to study me. “Seems like this is another one of those cat things. Can you not overpower the urge to just lie there?”
I shook my head. “Would that I could, but no. Also, people are starting to wonder why you’re talking to your cat.” I’d noticed a few people shooting Amy curious gazes as they walked or jogged by.
“Fine,” she said in exasperation. “Kaye bought this at the store, too. And it’s a good thing she did.” Amy plopped onto the grass beside me and pulled off her backpack. Funny I hadn’t even seen her put it on in the first place. She unzipped the top and laid it in front of me. “Get in.”
I didn’t budge. “A, I still can’t move, and, B, I won’t be able to breathe in that thing.”
Amy let out a giant harrumph. “This is made for cats. Can’t you see this big bubble thing in the front? You can pretend to be an astronaut. It’ll be fun!”
I wagged my tail wildly. It was the only part of me I could easily move. “No,” I said flatly.
“Moss…”
“This is exhausting,” I whined. “Just carry me.”
“Carrying you will attract too much attention. It’s already bad enough that you’re a cat at a dog park. Can you just act normal?”
“I am acting normal,” I insisted.
Amy glared at me. “Get in. Now.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “But you’re buying me another giant bucket of chicken for dinner tonight.”
“Whatever it takes.” Amy rolled her eyes and unbuckled the harness. “At least you can take this off now.”
Hooray for small blessings.
Amy wasted no time plopping me into the space bubble backpack. It smelled like new plastic. Gag.
“Hang on tight, Mossy. I’m putting you on my back now.”
I had to focus real hard not to lose my breakfast as Amy swung me up and around. Still, it could’ve been worse. I could’ve still been on that terrible leash.
I stayed quiet as Amy let herself into the park and began to take laps around the perimeter. This wasn’t so bad, really. I had just enough space to curl up and take a nap if I wanted, but Amy needed her partner on alert.
I fought off the fatigue as she ported me around the park… and around… and around again.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I said as Amy made her fourth loop around the busy park. Boy, were all the dogs happy to see me. I’d lost count of how many had dragged their owners over to investigate. Such simple-minded creatures, dogs.
It didn’t take long for my pristine space bubble to become covered in dog slobber, thus obstructing my view.
“I can’t see anything,” I informed Amy after a particularly enthusiastic Mastiff wiped his drool all over the surface. “Either clean this thing up or consider me officially useless.”
“There’s one other option,” Amy said. She sat on a bench and placed me beside her. She’d long since put a Bluetooth device in her ear to make it look like she was on the phone rather than talking to herself—or to the magical cat in her backpack.
“This harness turns into a front-carrier,” she explained. “Sort of like one of those things new moms use to wear their babies.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “And I’m the baby in this situation?”
Amy beamed. “Yep! We can get rid of the outer casing, which means no obstructed view. But it also means that you’ll no longer have a protective layer between you and the dogs.”
Dogs. Revolting.
“Will you please, please, please try to keep them off of me?” I asked. “You know I’d do it for you.”
Amy laughed at this. “Of course, I will. I’m not going to let my good friend get eaten, kissed, or worse.” She shuddered, and that warmed my little kitty heart.
“Okay, admit it,” I said with a debonair grin. “You’re a cat person.”
“I’m a Moss person,” she said as she got to work on converting the backpack into a front pack.
Less than five minutes later, I was back in the open air and snuggled tightly against Amy’s chest.
She’s a Moss person, I recalled, replaying those words in my head repeatedly.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late, after all.
Maybe two shapeshifting ex-cons really could find love in this crazy world of ours. But first we had a bad guy to catch. And, frankly, he didn’t stand a chance.