So it was all your work! (Stray Dog Strut)

Gary Lucas had owned a pet shop on Mars for five years. He worked there for seven before inheriting it from the old woman. They had met in rather farcical circumstances involving mistaken identity, a stolen corgi, and eight million Woolongs. Back in those days, he wasn’t in the best of circumstances. He had been kicked out of his childhood home for sharing different views on love than his parents, who had enough sway on most planets to blacklist him for deviancy. Mars, ironically enough, was the only planet he could legally get any work on. Sometimes, Gary would wonder if the old lady gave him a job out of pity in addition to the spite caused by ruining it the first day they met.

But, to his credit, Gary was able to run the shop smoothly when the old woman took ill. They had known each other for four years by that point so she knew he could be trusted. Certainly trusted enough not to ask questions like, “what’s your name” a second time. Names, in her book, bring nothing but trouble. Only fictional people need names. Real people only use them to say hello. Gary didn’t fully agree with this sentiment, but he respected her enough not to say anything too critical about it.

It was two years after she died that he met Warren Monogram. It was on a weekend after closing hours. Gary needed to go do something other than tend the pets. One of his assistants, a cute kid named Jane, was looking after them to make sure they were comfortable (nothing bad happened to them that weekend). He had heard about a coffee shop a few blocks away from the pet store that had some good reviews. Unfortunately, it was owned by a company that was owned by the corporation his parents ran.

(He didn’t know at the time that they were ousted over getting caught committing insider trading. Their bounty was reported to be in the ten digits by the time they were caught by some kid and her dog.)

As such, Gary went to a bar he would frequent every blue moon called The Lovely Angel. The bartenders were a nice pair of ladies. One would suspect they were sisters by the way would argue with each other. Though another could say they were lovers given the way they looked at each other. For Gary’s money, there was something special about a relationship with that level of ambiguity, though he would argue they were once a thing, but split on really good terms. He had a sense for the melancholic romance that never fully worked out. He’d been in enough of them to see that.

“What’s your drink,” asked the bartender with floofy red hair. Her black haired companion was busy chatting up with another customer about a new crime syndicate that had moved into Mars. He had heard about the syndicate for some time. Some were remnants of Viscous’ gang while others were minor thieves and murderers looking to make it into the big time. Probably wouldn’t amount to much. The world is full of bounty hunters and rogues. Best to keep a low profile than declare yourself to be the new mob in town. The old mobs have a tendency of paying large sums of money to get rid of the competition.

“Burbon,” Gary replied. He nursed the drink absentmindedly. He was focused on the person the black haired bartender was talking to. The man in question was a lean fellow. Given his blond Mohawk, his pink star cheek tattoo, and skull and crossbones arm tattoo, this was a man who wanted to stick out. Gary had seen him from time to time by and around the pet store. He never entered the place, not even to browse. He’d just stand out there, like a vulture waiting for the body to ripen.

But there was something about the man (other than his appearance and his laid back demeanor) that drew Gary to him. Something about his eyes that he couldn’t place just yet. They made him feel awfully sad for some reason. Like the death of his grandmother or the old woman. He didn’t have time to process the meaning of this feeling, as the man’s expression changed suddenly from carefree to alert. At first, Gary thought it was because that new mob had made a convenient entrance into the bar to disrupt the questions the black haired woman was asking. Only, the man was walking towards Gary with furious intent.

Naturally, Gary did the sensible thing and ran like heck. The streets of Mars are full of dark alleys, odd turns, and canals. And Gary used them all to try to escape from his pursuer. There were moments of luck and moments of failure in his escape. The crowd of children celebrating a birthday party gave him a brief reprise. But getting hit by the gondola didn’t help matters. But eventually, the chase ended with Gary pinned down in a garden planted atop a smile. No one knows the exact reason why the smile was on Mars. Some say it was the creation of a higher being with a sense of humor. Others believe it to be an optical illusion like Magic Eye pictures or the third dimension. Gary was too busy having a gun aimed at his head to think of an answer to that riddle.

“Why are you spying on me,” asked the man with the gun, “You a bounty hunter out to get a nice paycheck.” Gary replied with a loose collection of sounds that almost sounded like words. Most of the words rhymed with “boo,” “mom,” and the first syllable of “flubber.” The man was slightly confused by this reaction. Usually, when people have come to murder him, they react more calmly to having a gun aimed at their face. That, or they just scream at him. He might have jumped to a wrong conclusion. In his defense, there was something familiar about this guy that rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn’t put his finger on what though.

The man lowered his gun, much to Gary’s gratitude. He was still pants-shitting terrified by the events, but he was at least capable of speaking coherent words.

“Thank you,” he sighed.

“Sorry, I thought you were someone dangerous.”

“…Hey! I’m pretty dangerous.”

“Oh really,” said the man with a wry smirk, “what are you going to do, fight me with your glassy stare.” Gary remained unamused. The man sighed, “Bad joke, I know. Look, let’s start over. Name’s Warren.”

“Gary.”

“You a bounty hunter?”

“…no.”

“Alrighty then. How about you and me return to the bar, pay our drinks, and get a few more.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Gary with a smile on his face. They walked silently for a few blocks before Gary asked, “Do you mind if I ask something?”

“You just did,” replied Warren, “But you can ask something else.”

“It’s just… I keep seeing you in front of the pet shop I run and-“ but before Gary could finish that thought, Warren grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN “PET SHOP YOU RUN?” THAT SHOP IS RUN BY A NICE OLD WOMAN, NOT YOU!”

“I-it was!” Gary said franticly, “until a few years ago.”

“WHAT HAPPENED A FEW YEARS AGO???”

“She died!” Warren froze when he heard that answer. He let go of Gary and crumpled to the ground. Gary was at first hesitant to comfort the man who had just held him up high like one does with a person who has wronged you. But there are times in Gary’s life when he knew that people aren’t in the best of places. That they need some help. He had been burned before. (His parents, for one.) But more often than not, helping people has worked out better for everyone than not. So Gary sat down next to Warren.

It took a bit for them to feel comfortable talking. Gary was the one to break the silence. “Who was she to you?”

Warren looked past Gary’s glasses and into his eyes. There was a softness to them, a melancholy. It must hurt, Warren thought, to talk about someone you cared about as much as they did the old woman. “She was my mom.”

They didn’t talk for another couple of minutes. “I hadn’t seen her in a few years. We both were still on Mars, living our lives as best we can. I run a gun shop, sell to all the bounty hunters and thieves. Mom didn’t approve, said it was barbaric to sell to killers. I said something stupid, she lobbed something needlessly cruel, and I just stomped out the door. That was like ten years ago. I still recommend people go to her pet shop whenever I could. Sometimes, people want a good boy or a hunting cat. And, for all my feelings of discomfort and bitterness, I still liked her. Spent the past couple of years just waiting outside trying to muster up the courage to talk to her. Guess I waited too long.” Warren paused for a moment before asking, “Did she ever talk about me?”

“No,” said Gary softly, “but then, she didn’t really talk much about herself. I knew her, but I didn’t know her, if that makes any sense.”

“No, no. I get it. Did she go on about her disdain for names?”

“Not often, but the one time she did…” And the two of them laughed at a late loved one’s eccentricities. Warren would eventually tell Gary his mother’s name, which Gary thought to be quite a lovely name. Though, the Monogram family does have some history on Neptune, which could point to why she wouldn’t want people to know her name. Sometimes, people create mythologies, worldviews, and philosophies to justify their hang-ups.

They returned to the Lovely Angel, paid for their drinks, and shared many more in the years that followed. Gary hadn’t been in a relationship like this one for a long time, and it ended quite poorly the last time it happened. There was a sense that this too would end poorly. Maybe he’d slip up or some asshole with a gun would kill Warren. The world is full of such horrible things as daydreams. But in the three years they dated, that day never came. Instead, Warren entered the pet shop one day and asked Gary a riddle, an answer to which was “Yes.”

It was on that same day that Gary learned his parents had been taken in by some bounty hunter and her dog. Which meant he could leave Mars to go wherever he wanted. Warren was quite saddened by this, until Gary started coming up with places to go for their honeymoon. A warm twinkle emerged from Warren’s eyes and they kissed for what seemed like forever.

Their marriage lasted a good 40 years until Warren died of old age. Gary lived on, still running the pet shop. He wasn’t the main person in charge of the shop anymore. Jane Moon did more the economics while Lauren Smith found the pets. Most days, Gary would just smile behind the counter and help the customers. Best part of the job, most days. The Lovely Angel closed a few weeks after Gary and Warren started dating, it’s bartenders long fled Mars. He had two kids with Warren, both adopted and both off planet. Jacob works as an archeologist on Earth, discovering lost cultures and recontextualized histories. Frannie became a bounty hunter, much to Warren’s inexplicable chagrin.

At the moment before his death, Gary thought of that dog that got him the job at the pet shop. He wondered why those two men were so desperate to get their hands on a corgi worth only two Woolongs? Why the chase, why threats of violence, why the suitcase? He didn’t live long enough to come up with a good answer to his questions. But then, he was feeling a bit tired.

How Much is That Doggie in the Window…

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