Chapter 3
Dale growled but didn’t trust himself to answer. When he did speak, he simply asked, “Can you take it back outside?”
Jill had cats, two older felines she doted on as if they were children. They were the reason Dale rarely visited her apartment—between the stench of their fishy, wet food and the powdery smell of their litter box, he thought they stunk up the place. Not to mention the way they sat on the coffee table or the counter top and staredat him. Who let animals climb onto surfaces where people ate? “Your food goes there,” he tried telling her once as she cuddled with one of her cats as it rested on the kitchen table. “He’s sitting where you eat.”
“I eat around him,” she had replied.
“What about his hair?” Dale asked. “It gets in your food.”
But Jill scoffed. “It can’t kill you.”
Under his breath, Dale replied, “It can if you chokeon it.”