Jared's ears provided him a keen sense of hearing that registered even the sound of a stray cat rubbing soft fur against a stack of metal paint cans behind the shed. He growled as he continued to hear the progress of the unseen cat, detecting its soft steps on broken asphalt. A low growl originated in the back of his throat.
He heard the noise as the cat scrambled onto some crates. The next sound of soft paws came from above him. The sheepdog sat back and looked toward the roof of the shed as a white cat with a pink nose and greenish-blue eyes came into view. An irrational hatred persisted in the growl that changed into a volley of heated barks at the unreachable cat staring blandly down at him from its perch atop the shed's roof.
"Have you got it all out of your system now?"
The question lingered as Jared's outburst descended into a low growl that stopped suddenly. Had the cat spoken to him?
"I came looking for the opener of the way," the cat continued. Jared heard benign laughter and a contented purring all blended into one. "I can see that you've encountered him."
Jared wondered if being a dog allowed him to also speak cat.
"Let me disabuse you, dear boy," the cat said, fur prickled somewhat by indignation. "I am not speaking cat. I am the goddess Bastet, consort-daughter of the illustrious Atum-Ra, mother of the proud hunter Maahes."
"You're like him!" Jared barked.
Bastet immediately comprehended his meaning, and struggled again not to take offense at the mortal's mistake. "I am quite certain I am not in any way like the opener of the ways." Her voice purred and batted with soft kitten paws against his overtaxed brain.
"I am the eye of the moon," Bastet continued. "I have had many names: B'sst, Baast, Ubaste, and Baset." She paused and added one more, with some evident distaste. "Sekhmet."
Jared waited impatiently for her to finish. "Can you help me?" Jared whimpered before she could get started again.
"It's not just that you are in a form most distasteful to me," Bastet said. "Though you are."
"But you're a god!"
"Goddess," Bastet corrected mildly. "Mother of the people of Bubastis, she of the ointment jar..."
"Please," Jared whimpered again. "I can't stay a dog."
The cat seemed to radiate kindness. "Dear boy, I note your distress," Bastet said. "I did not say I would not help..."
Jared whimpered excitedly only for her to throw cold water on his hopes.
"It's that there is simply nothing I can do," Bastet said and let her conversation meander. With a sigh, Bastet admitted, "I had hoped to see the old reprobate. I know he's incorrigible, but one does get lonely for others like oneself."
"Then I'm stuck? As a dog?" Jared barked.
The cat's eyes fastened on him. "I'm sure there is a path back," Bastet said. "It's what he does, after all. Sets voyagers on their paths and all that. I've never been one for all that mystic mumbo-jumbo."
Jared sank onto his belly, thoroughly depressed. He barely noticed as Bastet took her leave and vanished in a twist of soft fur and falling leaves.
Not even Ralph returning with a bowl of food interested him. The custodian looked at the moping animal. "You'll eat when you get hungry," the man said, giving the dog a final glance before departing.
The worst part?
Ralph was right. As hunger pangs made themselves felt, Jared stuck his nose into the bowl and sniffed. After a tentative bite, he began crunching the rest of the kibble and washed the meal down with another drink of soapy water from the old mop bucket.
Two ancient gods, Jared mused. He'd met two gods, yet one of them wouldn't help him and the other couldn't help him. He'd have to help himself. He studied on possibilities, but all too soon he fell asleep, the shed offering some shelter as a brisk wind began to blow.