Cat-Tooth Magic and Dog-Eared Miracles Read online

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  Isis performed no strange ritual that summoned lightning from the sky. The cat had whispered no alien words to shift the basement’s shadows after Gyp accepted that strange magic’s power and promised to sacrifice his life so that Kate would experience a full one.

  Isis told Gyp that the promise had been enough magic. The power did not need a bond written in the dog’s blood. The magic would know if the dog’s intent was pure. There would be no need to gather more rodent skulls as Gyp’s charity needed no murder.

  Isis died first.

  The flow of energy that maintained his life was given to another. The lesions quickly faded from the cat’s skin, and much of the film that covered his last eye dissipated. Yet the years quickly caught up with Isis and left the cat breathless. Kate discovered her favorite cat expired one morning only a few nights after Gyp accepted the magic, and her spirits sagged in the absence of the feline who had kept her feet warm at night.

  But Kate turned a corner.

  Gyp tried to fill Isis’s empty spot next to Kate on the bed. There, Gyp counted as Kate’s sleep grew deeper and more restful. The pain lingering in her joints faded. Kate spent less time sick in the bathroom. Gyp watched Kate’s appetite recover, and he smiled to see the pounds return to her figure. Gyp wept to see Marjory and Ben embrace their recovering daughter.

  Gyp did not suffer long in the affliction he promised to accept to take away Kate’s hurt. A lethargy first descended upon Gyp, slumping his shoulders to the carpet no matter how much a resurging Kate pleaded him to escort her outside. Gyp’s tongue fell from his mouth, and the dog constantly felt out of breath. No matter how Gyp tried to stretch, often painfully, upon the home’s tile floors, he always felt hot. Vertigo made him swoon, and Kate sobbed each night as she lifted her dog into her bed.

  The veterinarian drained the fluid that collected around Gyp’s heart after the dog collapse in the backyard. Gyp lay still as a machine buzzed around him and pointed to his people to his growing tumors. For a week, Gyp swallowed the medicines Kate fed him, though he hardly had the desire to drink even water. He never whimpered as Kate embraced him, no matter how her last hugs hurt. Gyp’s worse pain was watching Kate grief while he passed.

  Still, Gyp never doubted the sacrifice he promised to heal Kate’s illness.

  Kate woke one morning to the sound of Gyp’s laborious breathing. She looked into her tired dog’s eyes, but she recognized no focus or sign of recognition as she cradled Gyp’s head upon her lap. Kate carried Gyp outside as spring approached. There, she set Gyp upon the budding grass and sat next to her dog. Gyp’s head swiveled in her lap as his eyes stared a few minutes more across a field upon which he would once run.