Cat People
By Robert Jahns
In the 1950's, canines were as free as sparrows to roam our small town, following only their will and whim. They indeed were living the American dream. Maybe that's why I could never trust my yellow dog, Queenie. She enjoyed her role as a free spirit, heading hither and yon, with no apparent plan in mind. She became my dog, my responsibility, when my older brothers and sisters lost interest. Oh, I brushed and petted her, even bathed her when she allowed me to catch her. My hugs and pats were sincere, but she only endured the rite, not enjoy it. Food and water were always at the ready. I tossed that gnarled, saliva-drenched stick that she insisted on chasing. Part of her game was to retrieve the stick, and then feign anger with growls and a show of teeth when I reached for it.
The care given did not earn her protection. That old mutt never seemed to be around when I needed her. When that Watson kid started to beat on me, that old dog was always running in the wrong direction. Will I forever hate that Watson kid?
Jeff Thompson was the first to go off to war. Some country in Southeast Asia needed help. Time moves slowly for a boy in a small town. It seemed that Jeff was gone forever. Six years after his departure, Jeff returned home. He immediately went to the local bar and got drunk. No one saw the fight begin between that Watson kid and the returning soldier. Jeff proceeded to knock the snot out of the Watson boy. He never did approve of bullies. I glanced with admiration toward my new hero. Jeff showed the effects of drink. His eyes were a bit glassy, his stance a bit wobbly. He smiled at me with the grin of a Cheshire cat. Was he a cat person?
Probably not. That was my dog, Queenie, that followed Jeff home.
The Werewolf
By Jeffrey Hite
You know the legend of the werewolf. How he hunts at night for his victim, and can turn from man to beast to man again. The stories are true, you know. They are out there, and they hunt by the light of the moon. But there is a creature that is more dangerous that the werewolf, they are the werecats.
These Creatures come, not during the night, but during the full light of day to hunt their prey. The are very cunning, those fully turned take the form of ordinary house cats and take up residence with the cat people.
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