I thought I would try my hand a personified animal fic. I realize there are a lot of those, but it was what I was in the mood to write.
Fifteen year-old Trixie isn't your average detective, not because she lives with a paralegal and has access to all of the latest case files, not because she lives in New York city and their's always something going on, not even because she's the youngest detective to ever work in this town. Trixie is special because Trixie is a cat!
Homer Gotfried was a very eccentric man. Some people even believed that perhaps he suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder. He loved solving crimes and finding criminals by jumping right in the fray, going to bars and hanging out with them, hitting up the hideouts of ex-mob bosses. If there was choas, Homer was often a part of it. The man lived his life like he was in a James Bond film, flirting with danger as if he were invincible. He always said he had two goals in life: good friends and a full life, and he pursued both with fervor.
That all changed one night unexpectedly. Homer was hanging out at one of the local dives and got too close to a rival gang during a feud. Gunshots rang out, someone threw a molotov cocktail and set the place aflame. Homer, trying to play hero, as usual, got the bright idea of trying to talk some sense into the inflamed gang members. For his attempt, he was rewarded with a bullet to the stomach. It bypassed most of his internal organs but it grazed his spine and bruised his spinal cord, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down.
When he got out of the hospital, it was suggested that he order a therapy animal to help take care of him. Homer was a stubborn man, though, and couldn't stand dogs or horses. Just to spite the doctors, he had one of his friends adopt an old ally cat and it for him. Something magical happened between Homer and his cat Trixie. Trixie Loam was his therapy animal, the only therapy animal he needed as far as he was concerned.
Trixie woke up and looked at the clock. Then, she looked out the window. It was night. She walked into the bedroom to check on her friend; he was sleeping. Everything was the way it should be.
She decided to go and take a look at the balcony. She observed the sight and didn't see anything past a couple of raccoons. She gave them a loud growl to let them know that they weren't welcome.
The cat twitched her tail and licked her paw. She was nervous for some reason and paced the floor before settling down on the cool tile of the linoleum floor. Her ears continued twitching.
Maybe it's just fleas? the cat thought.
She scratched her ear and lay back down.
No, something must be wrong, but what?
Her ears twitched again. This time she picked up something.
There was loud wailing outside the window.
Just the neighborhood cats in a fight.
Just then, she heard something, something loud and a little hard to describe. It sounded loud and disturbing, like a cross between a house cat wailing, a baby crying, and a woman screaming.
I must investigate!
Trixie bolted to the locked screen door. Outside was a three foot tall puma.
I knew something was up.
The cat bared her claws and teeth as if to say you are not welcome here!
The puma looked eyed her through the glass door and went its way.