A Little Help From A Friend

“Go to mill”. My words came out through clenched teeth with more force than intended so my chin is strongly pressed on the knee. Desperate for warmth I wrapped my arms tightly around my leg and shifted my ass on the cold hard step. My new jeans were warm, but I had to wear the big coat, as my mother said. Still, I could not leave him to protect his bowl on his own. He had one fight already lost today. Black cat, skinny one of two doors down, raised his other paw forward. Her green eyes laser etched on the bowl, littered with the remains of my salmon. Wednesday was a day of salmon - my worst day, any Stan. Another way that we are so well suited to each other. Growing, his back legs were trembling and with difficulty, took a terrible tremor, and his again fell to the ground. I carefully wormed my hands under his furry thighs, the backs of my hands rustling on the gravel and I hooched it and pushed it forward. “You, boy.” And he did it. His wet nose buried into a small mountain...