Outside the world was wintry white, and there was a cold east wind blowing with gales of up to 50 miles per hour. Simba didn't mind the weather; he was comfortable. He could hear the whistle of the air moving between the buildings, but he was nice and toasty. Sitting on the back of the comfy couch, he was enjoying his afternoon bath. Slowly, he licked one paw at a time; maybe even one toe at a time. That was the only way to keep long, luxurious fur like his nice and shiny.

From this spot, one of his usual perches, he could see the entire room, keep an eye on the front door, and was up high enough to catch a glimpse of Leo and Mufasa if they tried to sneak up on him. Leo was his younger housemate from his other house, but Mufasa was a kitten that lived in this house.

He and Leo were sentenced to spend time here, in this other house, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Simba was reasonably sure it was only a matter of time until he and Leo went back home. He knew because 'the man' continued to visit every so often, and talk to him in that low mumble that he used. Concern about where 'the mistress' was ran through his mind every so often . . . but he was pretty sure she would be back, too. He had been deserted before, and this was nothing like that time.

Earlier in his life, about four or five human years ago, Simba was left in a veterinarian's office. He was in a lot of pain, and it hurt to walk, play, or pretty much anything else, . . . and well, sometimes he did bad things, because he couldn't make it to the litter box. Days went by, and he didn't know where his humans were. He only knew the cold of the metal cage, and the occasional warm hands of the humans who wore pajamas all the time. They hurt him with their sharp pointed things, and poking and prodding. The medicine they gave him made him sleep all the time, and though he wasn't sure just how much time had passed, he started to realize that he was on his own, and his humans had left him. He heard the humans in pajamas talking about "not being able to pay."

It hurt his kitty heart to think about that time, so he pushed it out of his big black head. He just knew that 'the mistress' would be back, and life would go on as it had been for the last four years or so. They fed him twice a day, brushed him at least once a week, and all he had to do was entertain his humans by "talking" and pawing at them so they would pet his head, or scratch his belly. This was a good life, and he loved it. Even though he had to put up with Leo, and let him have the recliner now and then, it was a better existence than he had ever imagined while he was in the cage. The great cat spirits wouldn't let him down this time.

Bending his massive neck to reach over his shoulder and lick his back, Simba marveled at how shiny his fur was. He wasn't really all black, because the thick undercoat was a deep brown. "Sable" is what they called him in his other life, because his fur was pretty special. His mistress changed his name to Simba, because his head and face looked like a lioness and he liked it. A few years back, when Leo became a part of the family, it just made sense to give him a lion's name too.

He could still hear the approach of what he liked to think of as his "temporary" humans, even though nine years of not hunting or living outside had affected his hearing. Gregory and Austin were home from work, and that meant food, and scratches, and good conversation and playtime. Maybe they would get the big red dot out! Simba loved to chase the dot. It took him time to understand that he was supposed to chase it and not just watch it bounce around the room, but now it was the highlight of the day, and he rarely let Mufasa chase it alone.

As Gregory and Austin entered their house, he could hear them talking. He didn't understand everything they said, but he did know certain words. He could follow the conversation enough to know that they were talking about the mistress and the man. His heart leapt in his chest - was this the signal that they were coming to get him? He continued to listen.

"So, Dad said that Mom will be home next Sunday. He will drive out to the airport to get her, and then they will come over together on Monday to pick up Simba and Leo," Gregory said to Austin.

"Wow . . . I know Simba is going to hate the car ride, but he will be happy to get back to his house. When is the new puppy getting here?"

"I think they have to go back to the airport to pick him up on the next Sunday - December eighteenth. Simba is not going to like having to share Mom with a puppy."

Simba's ears were evidently worse off than he thought. Did they really say "puppy?"