Tabs hissed and growled at the thing on the other side of the door, throwing decorum out the window. Sure, it was rude and not very neighborly of him, but he and dogs had never gotten along very well. He thought they were always so…pushy, and clumsy.
That was the thing about dogs, he thought. They had no respect for personal space.
Tabs could hear it sniffing loudly outside, conducting reconnaisance. Tabs knew about their keen sense of smell, and knew that this one probably already knew that Tabs was alone in the shed, terrified, a little on the plump side and wearing Coco Mademoiselle.
“Meeeeooowww,” he groaned, using his office voice. Who the hell is that? “Mrow!” Go away, or I’m calling the police!
No answer, and the sniffing sound stopped. Seconds passed, and Tabs wondered if his threat had worked to scare away the dog.
He got to thinking that he should look for an escape route in case the dog had a key to the door. It seemed unlikely, but Tabs wasn’t sure. The dog was probably a local, after all, and probably knew this area. Maybe it had even watched Tabs arrive.
The thought terrified Tabs, and his tiny heart started pounding. Frantically, he looked around the room again, his fearful eyes barely taking the time to focus.
There was the solitary window, which was shut, and quite small, and at least five feet off the frozen floor. The walls were vertical wooden slats, the ceiling corrugated sheet metal, and the ground was a solid slab of ice, except for the small fishing hole cut in the center.
He looked at the hole for a moment, listening to the lake water jostling within it, then to the now silent generator and rapidly cooling electric heater, his two bags beside the heavy wooden chair by the hole in the ice, a tall stack of wooden crates that he presumed were empty, and then at the workbench pushed up against one of the walls.
Nothing. No ways in or out, except for the door.
He trained his night vision on the door again and focussed his ears like parabolic radar dishes, scanning for the slightest sound…
And then the world exploded. There was a terrible crash against the door, coupled with ceaseless, thunderous barking. The noise caused Tabs to jump three feet in the air, and he landed awkwardly.
The crashing continued, over and over, and the door shuddered. The whole shack shook violently, and the metal roof clanged and buckled. Tabs cowered on the ice, shrinking against the floor, as his wild, wide eyes darted to and fro.
Tabs had never heard barking like that before. It was liquid, visceral fury. No, this wasn’t a dog, Tabs realized. This was a monster.
When the creature struck the door again, the door swung open.
Everything went completely silent as time stopped. What Tabs saw standing before him in the doorway was — at that moment he recognized it and remembered seeing one when he worked as an extra on HBO’s True Blood. The monster was a werewolf, and right then it leapt.
Instinctively, Tabs rolled to his left, sliding on the ice as the creature’s jaws snapped inches from his head. Momentum carried the large beast forward, and it careened into the wooden crates, unable to stop on the ice.
The crates tumbled down, shattering, and appeared to bury the creature beneath them, but Tabs didn’t hesitate. As soon as he regained his footing, he raced toward the open door, snapping up his Chanel overnight bag on the way, and sped out onto the dark, frozen lake.
If you enjoyed this little tale and would like to see Tabs continue the story, let him know in the comments. And now, here are some pics from Tabs’ ever-growing kitty modeling portfolio.
Who is Tabs the Cat? About five years ago I befriended a stray, flea-bitten tabby cat with a bad case of worms. I could see he’d fallen on hard times, but his profound knowledge of high fashion and department store cosmetics led me to believe that he was more than meets the eye. We became fast friends, and now he’s actually my boss (and a successful kitty model).
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,
P.S. To see what else acclaimed kitty supermodel Tabs the Cat has been up to over the years, check out Sundays With Tabs, the Archives: From Anastasia to Zoya.