So, when I started this new plan for posting, I was in the middle of edits and making a character stronger. Which meant that the character coming to the blog now, their part in the book got reduced. They are not removed (comic characters are always needed) but the backstory and side lines aren’t as needed in the series. It’s too much for the books, but perfect for the blog here.

So, I introduce Deej and his companion Roger to you, my readers. This is nearly how they enter, but it’s not told from our unreliable narrator Tweety. This time, I tell the story from moments before and Deej’s view. You might see why he’s exactly perfect for this welcome to the world post…

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“What is it about this place, huh Rodger? You keep taking me back here. What is it about this bar?”

I spoke to the Lynx cat hybrid, knowing that he didn’t speak back. But Rodger? His attitude was loud enough. And the fact that he kept coming back to this area, no matter where I took him hunting and gathering. 

We were nomads, and didn’t stick around anywhere long. So, this was unusual for Rodger.

The furball kept heading slowly towards the building, sniffing something I could not. Every time the door opened, his head would cock towards the smell, as if something important was on the wind. When we got a little bit closer, he bolted towards the doors, nearly leaving me in the dust again.

“Rodger! That’s a business. You can’t just walk in without me, or else they call the pet police again.”

He didn’t slow to a stop immediately, but it registered enough that I could catch up to him and pull off a bit of rope from my traveling clothes to fashion a leash.

“I know, you hate not having freedom, but I like making sure we’re both safe. People get scared of that mean old mug and claim you want to bite them. But I know you only bite me, usually in the butt.”

Rodger chuffed at me, like I offended him again. Still, he paced himself to me again, acting like a service pet. Which reminded me about the papers, and I started to pat myself down to find them. 

Rodger and I might look like a mess, but I choose to be his keeper so he could live free. It made for some better days, and others that were hard. Most places didn’t believe or trust me, based off how I looked. I liked the hippie look as I was told, and didn’t care much about what I looked like, so long as Rodger recognized me. I’d gotten good at using my tail as if it were real.

We waited in the line, causing a bit of a stir with the bouncers. Of course, it’s because I had a giant cat on a leash. So we were moved to the front, and this guy in a crazier outfit than mine came to talk to me too. The smile, after a few seconds of talking to me, when he took the papers to read them? It was knowing, wasn’t it? 

Rodger got a good whiff of him for me, and sneezed. Then the man in the top hat and tails asked me “Sativa or indica?” 

Oh, he smoked the stuff too? That was new and different. “Anything really.” That was my truth. 

I heard a laugh, something bright and pretty, coming from inside the club. Rodger tried to pull the rope, but I held on tight. Nothing was worse than those almosts. The ones where we stood on doorways and thought maybe, only to be kicked out before we settled. But there was a feeling in the air, a sense I didn’t have, but it made my fur stand on end anyway.

“Come on in, man, I’ll see if we can get you a table. Do you mind if I hold these in case someone asks to read them? Just for a few minutes?”

The door opened to me, and we were escorted in. Nira started to address the room about Rodger and me, but I was lost in all the nice feelings. Being welcomed instead of banished. Being greeted instead of shunned. We might even get to stay for a while, as long as Rodger behaves himself.

Judging by the way he jumped into a chair like he was a human patron, I wondered how long he’d last.