Leo Garfield, soon to be pet owner extraordinaire. As soon as he had graduated college, the first order of business had been to move into his new apartment. It was specifically pet-friendly, and still relatively cheap. When he was little, he had desperately wanted a dog, but his parents hadn’t allowed him to, dubbing him “irresponsible.” (To be fair, though, Leo had forgotten to feed the fish that he had been allowed to have, so perhaps their accusation wasn’t unfounded. In his defense, fish are boring.) They’d said he could have whatever he wanted once he wasn’t under their roof. Unfortunately, his college, Barkeley, didn’t permit pets in the dorms, so he had to wait another four years.
Now that he’d graduated, he could finally get the dog he’d always wanted. Not even bothering to unpack, Leo looked up the pet store nearest to him, got into his dingy old car, and raced from his dingy new apartment to the store to get a hopefully not dingy dog.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he saw a little boy, likely no older than six, bawling his eyes out. Heaving a sob between each word, he howled, “But—I—want—a—puppyyyyyy!!”
His fairly unsympathetic-looking mother responded, “I’m sorry, Bobby. Maybe next time, okay?”
Leo watched them as they left, then looked at the building before him. It looked relatively unassuming, as if it didn’t contain everything he’d ever wanted within. The sign was half lit up, proclaiming the store as a “Martspet.” With the broken lighting though, it looked like “Marset” from a distance.
Crossing his fingers, Leo stepped into the pet store, only to be immediately struck by the lack of dog noises. Chirps, chitters, clucks, meows, even a moo, but no barks. Crestfallen, he walked to where there was a sign labeled “Dogs! ????”, hoping, praying that his ears were mistaken.
There was only one creature left in the pen. The walls of the cage were low enough that he could easily lean over the edge to observe the dog. It was pretty small, with long flowing fur. That was kind of odd, he had never seen a super long haired dog in real life, but he knew they existed. The tail was purely exotic, long and whippy, positively thriving with personality. The ears were small and perky, sticking straight up like a chihuahua. The dog was a snowy white, and it blinked up at him with frosty blue eyes. It sat calmly in the dog pen, tail curled over its forepaws. It was perfect.
What had that little boy been crying about? There was one left! Sure, it looked a little… dif-fur-ent, but it—no, he—was in the dog section. Maybe little Bobby hadn’t wanted him? Shrugging, Leo simply thanked his lucky stars that he’d gotten to him first. He wasn’t going to waste this oppawtunity.
Leaning close to the cage, Leo murmured in the voice he generally reserved for babies, “Hey, little guy. What’s your name?
“Mrow,” the odd dog replied.
“Fido? Did you say Fido?” Leo smiled fondly, remembering the name that he had already picked out for his first dog. Still, the sound it made was strange.
“Mrow.”
“Ma’am!” Leo exclaimed, motioning to the Martspet employee, “I’ll take this one!” 
The woman walked over, offering Leo a polite smile. “Of course. I’ll go get a carrier.”
Leo waited patiently, marveling at his new dog. It really was special!
The woman expertly scooped up the dog, put him in a small carrier, then locked the front. The dog passively withstood the handling.
“I’m not sure how this cat got into the dog pen, but I’m glad he found a home,” the employee commented.
“Pardon?”
The woman chuckled. “Ah, you know how wily cats can be.”
“Uh, yeah.” Leo thought the lady was pretty weird, talking about cats while he was purchasing a dog. He didn’t question her though, instead reaching for his wallet.

~Mrow~

“Woof. Say woof.”
“Mrow.”
Leo sighed in disappointment. Since getting back home, he’d been trying to make Fido make sounds related to his species. Without much luck, clearly. He got up from where he’d been lying on the floor and stretched, groaning in satisfaction at the various pops that ensued.
“Alright, boy, we’ll try again later. Right now, I’ve gotta unpack!”
Looking over at the large pile of boxes and bags looming menacingly in the corner of his living room, he reconsidered.
First order of business: dinner. Unpacking could definitely wait. So what if he was pro-cat-stinating?
Watching his dog devour the lo mein in an almost frantic manner, Leo remembered: he hadn’t fed Fido yet. He smacked his forehead loudly, startling Fido and causing him to jump at the sound. His fur puffed a little, but Leo smoothed it back down.
“C’mon, Fido! Let’s get you some food.”
It was a short drive back to the same rundown Martspet. He hoped it was still open-- it was pretty late, but Fido required proper sustenance.
The bell above the door tinkled merrily as he opened it. Fido mrowed cheerfully, moseying along as he sniffed the aisles of items curiously. Leo held the leash loosely, trying to find the appropriate food.
“Hey, welcome back. Can I help you?” It was the same employee from earlier.
“Yes! I, um, I forgot to buy food for my dog.”
The lady nodded, leading him to the right area. “What kind of dog is it?” she asked. “There are specialized brands for different breeds.”
Leo looked down at Fido, who had settled down at his feet. “I’m not sure, exactly.” He did his best to describe his dog’s features to the lady, who was too engrossed in scanning the labels to actually look down at Fido.
“Here, this should be about right.” She handed him a heavy bag of dog food. Scrawled in the front in bright pastel colors proudly stated that the food was allstar, premium, guaranteed strong teeth and shiny coat, as well as other various benefits.
“For small dogs, such as Pekingese, Maltese, and Chihuahuas,” Leo read aloud. “Perfect!”
The lady led him over to the counter for the second time that day. She glanced down at his dog. “Huh, your cat must look like your dog,” she remarked, ringing him up.
“Cat? What cat?” he asked, too busy stressing over the expensive price to give her words much thought.
“You know, the thing on the end of your leash?”
He didn’t appreciate the sarcasm, but was barely paying attention. “Hey, lady, do you have anything cheaper?”
She sighed, clearly disappointed in him. “Look, sir, from what you described about your dog, you really need to take good care of it. Those breeds need to stay healthy, and good food and exercise is the best way to go about that. This is an of-fur you can’t refuse.”
Leo’s face pinched as he warred with himself. Love and concern for Fido eventually won out, of course, and he coughed up the necessary cash. Groaning internally, he accepted the bag of food.
“Let’s go, Fido,” he said heavily, walking out.
He missed the extremely strange look he received from the cashier when she finally saw Fido.

~Mrow~

Leo was such a horrible pet owner. The substantial sense of dread resting on his heart was unbearable.
“Come on, Fido, you’re gonna be okay!”
“Mrow,” Fido barked tiredly. The poor pup was as sick as a dog. He had thrown up that morning, and that afternoon, and that evening. It was inconsistent, but still occuring at a steady pace. The puke stained the cheap carpet, which would certainly not earn him any brownie points with his new landlord. Not only that, Fido had been lethargic since he’d woken up.
Leo had only had him for about two days, and already his best friend was suffering under his care.
“Hello, Creature Care Clinic, this is Chris, how can I help you?” The peppy voice of the answering receptionist was music to his ears.
“Hi! Yes, yes, my name is Leo Garfield and I want to make an appointment as soon as possible.”
“Do we have your pet on file, or are you a new patient?”
“No, no, I’m new.”
“Well, are you coming in for an annual checkup and vaccinations?”
“My dog isn't feeling well.”
“Oh! What’s going on with him or her?”
Leo, in a voice so fast that it was almost incomprehensible, explained all of the horrible things Fido had been going through. The receptionist was professional and calm, which made Leo feel a little better. After about ten minutes, an appointment was set for the very next morning.
The next day couldn’t come fast enough. Fido had fallen into an uneasy sleep, but Leo had remained restless all night, unable to sleep with the worry and guilt weighing heavily upon his heart. He loaded his dog into his carrier, and sprinted to his car. He then broke almost every road law to get to the clinic, arriving a solid thirty minutes before his appointment.
The clinic was startlingly colorful, as clinics generally aren’t. There were several cutesy paintings of animals on the walls, obviously hand painted. Despite the friendly air the room gave off, Leo’s white knuckled grip on the carrier didn’t lessen as he settled onto the almost painfully bright couch.
The receptionist, presumably the same one as the night before, looked up. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I called you last night. My appointment isn’t for another thirty minutes,” Leo replied, trying to keep the impatient edge out of his tone.
“Well, you can fill out the paperwork ahead of time or look at our cat-alogues.”
Leo was engrossed in the endless amount of forms, and so he didn’t see the next person who walked in. Fido, however, did. He hissed angrily from the confines of his cage, a small paw emerging through the bars to whack the other dog’s curious face.
The blonde glanced up, instinctively scooping up the carrier and placing Fido on the couch and out of the dog’s range.
“Sorry!” the owner exclaimed, yanking on the leash to pull the other dog away from the couch. “Bad dog, Bailey, bad dog!” she scolded.
Leo was enthralled. The girl looked to be about his age, was beautiful, and had a dog, just like him. It was a match made in heaven. “It’s fine,” he said, starstruck.
She smiled prettily at him. “No, I’m sorry. Bailey likes to stick her nose into places where it doesn’t belong.”
Leo melted on the spot. “I’m Leo, Leo Garfield.” He stuck out his hand.
“Luna.” Her hand was soft.
He opened his mouth to ask her something, maybe something about her dog or maybe for her number, but the vet tech entered the lobby, cutting him off. “Leo and Fido?”
“That’s us,” he said to Fido, picking up the carrier.
He followed the vet tech into the examination room, letting Fido out who instantly hid under the single chair. He hissed a little when Leo tried to pet his dog to calm him down. The inside of this room was much less comforting than the lobby, with bare white walls and nearly blinding fluorescent overhead lights.
“The veterinarian will be right with you, sir,” the vet tech said, exiting the room to head towards the back.
Leo’s leg bounced uncontrollably, nervousness flooding through him. What if Fido was really sick? What if he had heartworm or kidney stones or bladder failure or heart defects or stomach problems or spinal issues or a deformed spleen or cancer or—
“Mr. Garfield, are you alright?”
Leo blinked away his thoughts. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you pawsitive?”
Leo took in a deep breath and released it. Feeling a little calmer, he repeated, “I’m fine.”
The veterinarian smiled kindly, closing the door behind her. “My name is Doctor Siamese, and can you tell me what’s wrong with…” The doctor’s voice trailed off as she took in his dog. She seemed surprised at Fido’s appearance.
“What? Can you already tell what’s wrong?” Leo asked urgently, peering at his dog. He didn’t look sickly to Leo, just a bit scared and and maybe a little puffy.
“Mr. Garfield, I thought you said Fido was a dog.”
“He is. He’s been throwing up and acting really tired as of yesterday morning. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!”
“I have a gut feline. Feeling. What have you been feeding him?” The vet sounded as if she already knew the problem, which relieved the man greatly.
“Uh, it’s called All Star Dog Food, for small breeds.”
Dr. Siamese scribbled something on her clipboard. “Okay, and when did you start giving Fido this food?”
“The night before last.”
“And the sickness started the next morning. Then there’s the solution, I think the food is the issue. It’s probably not agreeing with the cat.”
“You mean dog?”
“Uh, sure. Okay, so I’m going to go get you the appropriate food for Fido. Just make sure you feed him breakfast and dinner, four-fifths of a cup of dry food a day. Other than that, just let the bad food run its course.”
Leo nodded, a little angry. The employee at Martspet had given Fido bad food! What an expensive mistake! Now he had to pay for the purchasing of Fido, the old unhealthy but expensive food, the appointment, and the new healthy but luckily less expensive food. He didn’t realize having a pet would be so costly, but then again, he had gotten pretty unlucky. He had an urge to go give that lady a piece of his mind, but he decided not to. It wasn’t worth it.
At the desk, the receptionist—Chris, was it?--pulled up the bill. “So, I’m charging you for the food and the appointment,” he clarified. He hefted the bag onto the counter.
Leo inspected it. “Wait, this is the wrong bag. It says cat on the front.”
Chris opened his mouth to speak, looking incredulous, but the vet cleared her throat. “Our mistake,” she said, grabbing the bag. She took it to the back, and came out only mere seconds later.
“That was quick,” Leo commented, taking the new bag. It looked very similar, but instead of “cat” on the front, there was a large black “x” that had been marked through the name and replaced with a scribbled “dog” next to it. Leo thought it looked a little strange, but shrugged it off as a unique designer’s choice; who was he to judge?
Leo paid the bill, lamenting the agonizing death of his wallet as he did so. He had certainly not signed up for this when he had gotten a pet, but what could he do?
He started toward the door, only to hear Luna’s goodbye. He paused in the doorway, turning to glance at the pretty girl with the cute dog that he would likely never see again. “Bye, Luna! Bye, Bailey!” Leo called, before letting the door close behind him with a click.

~Mrow~

Fido was such a good dog. Leo had dreaded potty training, or any type of training for that matter, but Fido seemed to inherently know all of these things already. He peed outside, could walk off the leash, and had this ridiculous urge to fetch. The few times he had let Fido out without his supervision, the dog had come back with a creature in his mouth.
“Fido! No! Drop that mouse! Stop! You can’t bring it inside!” Leo had flailed his arms wildly. The dog had stared up at him and dropped it at his feet. Leo had picked up the dead, icky, absolutely disgusting mouse and hurled it as far as he could, only for Fido to dash after it.
Leo had no words to describe why his dog preferred to fetch dead animals (not to eat, only to proudly present to Leo, much to his disgust), but it inspired him to try and teach Fido to fetch normal things, like balls.
One thing led to another, and Leo found himself heading to the neighborhood dog park with a bouncy ball in his pocket. It was a large hilly area, with plains of smooth green grass and filled with the din of playful dogs and owners. Many of the dogs were leashless, so he let Fido free.
As he walked on the sidewalk, Fido got a lot of strange looks. Leo felt protective. Fido was oblivious to the hostility.
A large dog trotted up to the smaller one, sniffing Fido’s butt curiously. Leo knew it was a type of greeting, so he stood by passively. Fido certainly did not appreciate the intrusion of personal space, and spun around faster than he could blink and landed a solid swat on the dog’s muzzle. The larger dog yelped and sprinted away, presumably back to its owner.
“Fido!” he chided. The white dog’s fur had puffed up entirely; he looked like a little white pinecone. The tail was lashing angrily, flicking from side to side in displeasure.
Leo heard a shout and glanced up, only to see an large, angry man (who was definitely a biker) stalking towards him. Leo did not like the sight of the man’s muscles, or the vein of anger that showed clearly on the other owner’s forehead. “Uh-oh. Looks we’re going to have to apologize.”
“Hey, boy! C’mere! Your cat just tore up Daisy’s face!”
“Scratch that. We better go.” Leo scooped Fido up, then hastened away from the biker. The other man didn’t put up chase, but shouted a few derogatory things after him. He didn’t feel the bouncy ball slip from his pocket, and he didn’t realize the lack of toy until he was already all the way back home.
It was an unlucky oversight on his part. Fido was inconsolable. The bouncy ball had been his favorite toy, and Leo had specifically brought it along so that Fido would feel more comfortable playing. It was his dog’s comfort toy, and Leo had just lost it.
“Come on, Fido, this is the exact same brand, size, and type,” Leo coaxed gently, waving the blue ball in front of Fido’s face.
The dog turned around grumpily and trotted away, tail flicking.
“Aw, shucks.” Leo groaned, pulled on his shoes, and left on a quest to find that missing bouncy ball. What a cat-astrophe.

~Mrow~

“Aha! Found you, sucker!” Leo held up his prize triumphantly, ignoring the slobbery feel to the ball. He wiped it on his shirt. “Good as new!”
“Leo!” He turned, a bit surprised to hear his name in this new neighborhood. His mouth fell open. There she was, in all of her magnificent beauty.
“H—hey! Um, it’s... Luna, right?” he responded, trying to sound as if all of his waking hours weren’t consumed by thoughts of her. He shoved the bouncy ball in his pocket, not wanting to be seen as a weirdo holding a random bouncy ball in the middle of the sidewalk.
“And Bailey,” she smiled. Luna let her dog off of her leash, then sat down by him. “Where’s Fido? Is he feeling better?”
“Oh yeah, he’s feline—feeling fine. We actually came here earlier to get some exercise..”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep.”
“...”
“...”
Leo stared down at his sweaty palms, thinking hard for something to say. Out of the blue, he remembered the advice his dad had given him when he was a graceless teenager: to keep a conversation going, ask questions, lots of them.
“So, um… which do you prefer, cats or dogs?” Leo asked.
“Well, I’m allergic to cats, so I’d have to go with dogs,” Luna chuckled, going with the sudden switch in conversation. Leo grinned in response.
“You don’t have to worry about that; I hate cats!” Leo lied. The truth was that he didn’t really mind cats all that much, but he definitely pre-fur-red dogs.
She smiled at him, asking a question in turn. “Er, what’s your favorite type of food?”
And so it went, Leo asking random questions, Luna dutifully answering them, even occasionally asking her own.
Leo found out that she liked Italian food, her favorite color was red, preferred Coke over Pepsi, didn’t like white fur because it showed on dark clothing, as well as a multitude of other quirks and preferences. They even asked each other about where they lived (which Leo thought was a little purrsonal, but she had been interested to see if they lived close to one another).
Eventually, inevitably, Leo stopped, sure that he had asked and been asked all the questions that had ever existed.
“Out of questions?” Luna questioned, quirking an eyebrow.
Leo nodded embarrassedly. There was a lull in the conversation in which both participants wracked their brains for something clever to say to the other.
“Do you want to go out with me?” Luna blurted out, shattering the painful silence. Leo gaped. After another (thankfully shorter) moment of silence, Luna began to ramble, “I’m so sorry, I read this situation all wrong! We were doing the question thing and I just assumed that—” 
“No! You didn’t read it wrong at all, I was just surprised. Yes, yes, I would love to go out with you!”
She smiled in relief. As if on cue, Bailey trotted over. “I just have a good feeling about you. So does Bailey! Right, pup?” Luna knelt on the ground to pet the labrador. “So, maybe tomorrow at your place, around seven-ish?” she suggested, looking up at Leo with her big eyes.
“It’s a date!” Leo laughed nervously. They said their goodbyes, complete with an extremely awkward half-hug.
Leo walked home beaming.

~Mrow~

The rest of the day had gone by quickly, and it was soon morning. He had done everything in his best effort to make his crappy apartment spotless. A solid hour had been dedicated to cleaning cat vomit stains from the carpet with a scratchy paper towel and lysol. Another hour had been spent stressing over what type of food to get. He had decided on Italian. He remembered Luna’s preferences, and did his best to cater to them. That also meant red tablecloth, coke, and a strict vacuuming of every corner of the apartment.
About two hours had been spent trying to give Fido a bath. That had been a nightmare. He thought dogs usually liked water. Sure, some dogs didn’t like it, but Fido was such a tolerant dog that Leo had assumed he’d would be fine. He couldn’t have been more wrong. It was like trying to wash a snake. Slippery, sharp teeth, and scary. Leo decided to wear long sleeves to cover up the bandages and scratch marks on his arms.
The table was set, the movie was already loaded up, the food smelled delectable, and apartment was clean. Leo couldn’t have been more nervous.
“Mrrow,” Fido said, rubbing up against Leo’s legs.
“Yeah, you and me both, buddy.”
It was a torturous, indefinite amount of time before the doorbell rang. A shock of nerves raced through Leo, but he stood up and walked over to let his guest in. Fido ran to hide under the couch, appropriately startled by the sound he had never heard before.
“Luna! Hey, come in,” Leo said with a smile, opening the door wide.
The girl looked fabulous. She was wearing a dark blue blouse with black pants, a dark color scheme that brought out the light color of her hair. “You look pretty,” Leo added.
Luna smiled sweetly at him. “Thanks, Leo. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
Stepping over the threshold, Luna took in the dinner arrangement. “You remembered! That’s pawsome!” she exclaimed, practically skipping over to the table. She ran her fingers across the red tablecloth.
Leo blushed brightly. “Well, of course.”
The rest of the dinner went well. Fido remained hidden from sight, Luna enjoyed the food, and the dinner conversation was pleasant. The only problem was that Luna kept sneezing. Her face was also getting red, but that could’ve just been the candle mixing with the dim lighting. Leo had tried to keep the lighting at a romantic level.
At her seventh sneeze, Luna waved her hand in front of her face. “Ugh, sorry about this. I haven’t sneezed this much since my last encounter with a cat.”
Leo nodded sympathetically. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I just hope you aren’t getting sick.”
As if on cue, Fido decided to join them. He leapt onto the table with an impressive feat of agility, landing neatly next to Luna. He knocked over a glass of water, and instantly decided to abandon his adventure by leaping off Luna’s lap, leaving a mess of white fur behind.
There was a moment of silence, of shock, before Leo sprung to his feet, wiping the water down before it could reach his date. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into hi—”
“That’s impawsible. I thought you said you didn’t have a cat.” Luna’s voice was deadly soft, her hands frozen above her lap.
“What? Cat? I don’t! Luna, I’m sorry about Fido!”
“Leo, that’s a cat!” Luna shrieked, grabbing a napkin from the stack Leo had prepared for the two of them. She then began to desperately try to rub the fur off of her pants.
Leo didn’t know where the cat was that she spoke of, but there was obviously something wrong. He joined her in wiping frantically at her pants. In trying to get the white fur off, they only succeeded in migrating it upwards onto her blouse.
Leo flipped on the overhead lights so he could see better, only to be shocked at Luna’s appearance. Her face was red with rash, and her eyes were even redder and very irritated looking. She was scratching at hives on the underside of her wrists. It didn’t seem to be a fatal reaction, but certainly unpleasant.
He reached out to her, feeling helpless. “Luna—”
Luna yanked away from him. “I need to go home!” she shouted, before tearing out the door. Luckily, Leo knew she didn’t live that far away so it wasn’t a long walk but...
Leo let his outstretched hand drop, both mortified and confused. He glanced down at Fido, who was sitting primly on the kitchen counter, tail draped over expensive tiramisu. “Mrow.” 
“Man, life is ruff.”

~Mrow~

“Leo.” It was a discouraging beginning to the phone call. She didn’t sound very pleased with him.
He cleared his throat. “Hey, Luna. Look, I’m so, so, sorry about what happened last night. I don’t know exactly what went wrong, but if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do my best!”
There was a moment of silence. Leo glanced at his phone to make sure that she hadn’t hung up.
“Leo, it’s fine that you have a cat, but I would have liked for you to be honest with me.”
“What? I don’t have a cat.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m serious!”
“Leo, paws and reflect for a moment. Tell me, when you think of cats, what do you think of?”
“Perky ears, long tails, meowing, and jumping onto kitchen countertops?”
“And you don’t think Fido matches any of those? Even a little?”
Leo cast Fido a cursory glance. He was perched in the kitchen sink, lapping at the water dripping from the leaky faucet. He looked very closely at Fido’s features. “Nope. He looks like a dog to me.”
“What breed is he?” Luna sounded aggravated now.
“Uh, a mutt? Maybe a terrier or something?”
Luna started shouting into the phone. “Fido is not a dog! He’s a cat! You’re just too dumb to see it! What are you even doing?! You had to take Fido to the vet because you got him dog food, not cat food, and made him sick! You knew I was allergic to cats; I could have died last night! Leo, you need to open your eyes!”
“What-eh-fur. Don’t bite my head off, woman.” Leo now knew the truth. Luna wasn’t the angel he had made her out to be. She was being irrational, blaming him for things that he didn’t even do. He didn’t appreciate her accusations. “Okay, I tried to be polite and apologize, but you’re just getting all huffy and puffy on me. Fido and I don’t need that sort of person in our lives.” He needed to protect himself, and he needed to protect Fido. If Luna was going to be toxic, then that was her problem, not his.
“You’ve gotta be kitten me,” she grumbled into the phone, then hung up.
Leo walked over to Fido and lifted him out of the kitchen sink. “She’s crazy. You’re a dog, right, Fido?”
“Woof.”