James was kind of relieved that at least this cop didn't think he was crazy.
"I take it you've had your own experience with this door?"
Officer Dale seemed to shift uncomfortably at James's question but didn't break his business-casual demeanor.
"Well, not me personally, but ... surely you've noticed that you're not the only one around here who's kind of ... like yourself." James assumed he meant human. The officer continued, "The old people used to have stories that the first of your kind came to this earth through a doorway thousands of years ago. I know it's not PC to believe in that anymore, but I've heard to many stories like yours during my time on the force. If you need some help, just call me up at this number. There's also a shop keeper at the end of this street who's really good about not asking questions when it comes to stuff like this. I go off patrol at half past three. Just don't take it the wrong way if I don't officially report this."
He gave James a piece of paper with an eight-digit number written on it and a handful of coins, presumably for a pay phone. The coins were strange: they weren't like any of the money he was used to. Some of coins were worth ten cents; some were worth twenty. A couple of them were full dollars. They all had animal heads on the front.
James put the money in his pocket and looked around again. The horse cop was walking away toward a busy intersection. There were some dog people carrying shopping bags on the other side of the street, a wolf man in a fancy suit looking at a pocket watch, a hippo boy playing hopscotch in a green-space with a pair of zebra girls, and a twenty-something human woman chatting away on a cellphone. Cars were driving by slowly, driven by different species. A library seemed to be open, and people who looked like college students were coming in and out. The shop at the end of the street was also open, but it didn't seem very busy. James was trying to decide where he ought to go first.