Sophie was bone-tired when she finally made it home that evening. The first night of the showing had been a huge success. She’d played the part of the gracious hostess, introducing the artists and their work to the attending public. Her face hurt from a continuous smile she’d worn all evening, and her feet ached from her tight designer shoes.

It had been a long week, and she was ready to fall into bed for, hopefully, a good night’s sleep. Her dreams had been haunted all week by the fateful events of last Saturday night. She was still mad at Bryce for unwittingly setting her on to Gage Jenkins’s trail that night. She owed him for that one.

But, she was even madder at herself for her reckless actions. She was not the kind of person to fling herself at someone on such short acquaintance. It was hard to accept the thought that her judgment had been so poor, or worse, she might have let alcohol affect her decision to sleep with the man. What on earth had come over her? The scariest question was, why had it felt so right?

Sophie walked into the living room, taking in the usual disarray that accompanied her brother. She burst into an exhausted fit of the giggles when she spotted him. Bryce was fast asleep on the couch, his young face was soft and appeared angelic. He wore a contented smile. On his belly, was Cujo, rhythmically kneading Bryce’s belly with his front paws. The heartless cat had a look of ecstasy on his face, and he stood with his back end pointed at Bryce’s face, his tail standing at attention.

Unable to resist the temptation of a golden opportunity to pay Bryce back for last Saturday, Sophie called out in a singsong voice, “Oh, Bryce...oh, Bryce...wake up.”

Muttering in his sleep, Bryce said, “That feels so good, baby, don’t stop, now.”

Clutching her midsection and doubling over, Sophie jammed a fist in her mouth to keep from bursting outright with laughter.

“Bryce!” she managed to squeak out.

Startled, his eyes shot open, then he saw the hairy cat butt within inches of his nose. He closed his eyes then blinked them open again. Understanding finally donned.

“Cujo!” he yelled, flinging the cat off his belly. He sat up brushing away cat hair from his chest and cobwebs from his brain.

Sophie exploded into peals of laughter, tears of mirth streaming from her eyes. “Serves you right for setting me up with Gage Jenkins.” She ducked into her room, slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. The pillow he threw thumped softly on the other side.

---

The following morning, Bryce and Sophie awoke to the sound of a dog barking.

Sophie walked out into the living room pushing her hair from her face.

“What’s that noise?” She yawned and stretched.

“Sounds like a dog.” Bryce pulled a pillow over his head and tried to go back to sleep where he lay on the couch.

“You’re the man of the house. Go see what’s going on.” Sophie pulled the blanket off Bryce and padded into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. She had a long day ahead of her, and she needed the fortitude. Thank goodness, this was the last day of the art exhibit.

Bryce entered the kitchen a few minutes later and plopped onto a stool, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Well, where did the dog come from?” she asked.

“It belongs to the new neighbor.”

Sophie shot a narrow-eyed glance at her brother. “What new neighbor?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you about him?”

“No, Bryce, you didn’t.”

“Must have been the cat hair clouding my brain when you came in last night,” he grumbled sarcastically.

“So, what are they like? Are they nice?”

“Not they...him, and, yes, he is nice.”

“How old is he?” Sophie reached into the cabinet for two coffee mugs.

“Around thirty-something.”

“What does he look like?” she asked, trying to make her questions casual enough.

Bryce chuckled, seeing right through her. “I guess he’s okay for a guy, in a beefy kind of way. Who knows, maybe he will turn out to be your Mr. Perfect.”

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m not getting involved with anyone. I’m staying clear of entanglements and smooth-talking arrogant men.” She paused, then continued to rant as another thought occurred to her, “So, he’s single? Great. That’s all I need. A single man living next door to me. I don’t need any more complications in my life than I already have.” Sophie slammed a mug of coffee in front of him, “Here, drink this. I’m going to get ready for work.”

With her parting comment, she headed for her bedroom, intent on getting to work and away from the possibility of a meeting with her neighbor.

As she passed Bryce, she noted an “oh-so-innocent” look on his face. Now, I wonder what he’s up to? I’d better keep a close watch on that boy. This cat and mouse war might just get out of hand.

---

Bryce spent part of the day studying his chemistry book. He had an exam coming up on Wednesday, and he wanted to make a good score. He needed it. His grades had been suffering in this particular class, and he didn’t like settling for less than he was capable of performing.

Around noon, his glance strayed to the kitchen window, and he noticed Gage was moving around his garage. Setting his books aside, Bryce rose and left the kitchen to see what his new neighbor was up to.

“Hey, Gage, still unpacking?”

“Yeah. I wanted to get my weight equipment set up as soon as possible. I missed my regular workouts, while I was living at the hotel. Would you hand me that wrench in the top of the toolbox, over there?”

Bryce retrieved the wrench and fell in beside Gage. They spent the next thirty minutes assembling the complicated universal weight set. When they finished, they stepped back admiring their handiwork.

“No leftover parts?” Bryce asked.

“No leftover parts,” Gage confirmed.

“Well, I would consider it a job well done.”

“Me, too.”

“Hey, I meant to ask you about the barking I heard this morning. Do you have a dog? I didn’t see one yesterday.”

“Sorry about that. Yes, that’s my dog. I hope he didn’t make too much of a nuisance of himself. I had him boarding with a friend until I could get a house with a back yard. He’s excited about being in a new place. Why don’t you come around back and meet him?”

They moved through the house to the back porch, where a large black-and-tan hound greeted them. The dog went straight for Bryce’s crotch and sniffed.

“Uh...friendly guy, isn’t he?” Bryce pushed the dog away and patted his head.

“He’s usually friendly with people. The only thing I’ve found he hates is cats.”

“I like this dog already.” Bryce was intrigued by the possibilities. This was getting better and better. “What’s his name?”

“Rambo,” Gage said sheepishly then shrugged. “I didn’t give him that handle. He was a gift from a friend in my old National Guard unit. Needless to say, he had a warped sense of humor.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He looks pretty tough to me. I’d say Rambo suits him just fine.” Bryce nodded his head, thinking of all the possibilities of having a cat-hating dog next door. He also seized the opportunity to find out more about Gage’s involvement in the Army National Guard.

“How long have you been in the Guard?”

“Eight years.”

Bryce shook his head. “I just never saw the appeal. What is it you like so much about it?”

“I enjoy the rigor, discipline and the physical stamina it requires. It’s challenging.”

“Any women in your unit?” Bryce asked casually. “How does that fit in with the discipline and physical stamina? Does it create a lot of resentment?”

One side of Gage’s lips rose in a sneer. “I’ll never understand what makes a woman think she can keep up with a man. Why would she even want to? Besides, it just lowers the standards for everyone else.”

“Whoa...sounds like you’ve been bitten.”

“I was in the infantry when I was on active duty. Females weren’t allowed there, except in support roles. We trained hard. A woman could never have made it. If they opened it up to them, they’d have to drop physical standards. It’s true I’m not in the infantry any more, but I have a living example of exactly what I’m talking about now. There’s this ditzy lieutenant in my new unit, who has two left feet and a penchant for making my life miserable. Why do women like that even bother?”

“Maybe she sees it as an opportunity to meet men?” Bryce offered helpfully.

“You know, I never thought of that. It would stand to reason. After all, she’s as homely as they come. Not to mention, she’s a klutz.” Gage paused and rolled the word on his tongue. “Lieutenant Klutz. I like the sound of that. I’ll have to remember it.”

“I bet she doesn’t meet even one of the qualifications on your list.”

“Not one,” Gage replied,

“I guess I should feel really fortunate. I can vouch for most of those qualities in Sophie. By the way, that’s the name of the girl I live with. She’s normally graceful, smart, and I must admit she has the greatest pair of legs. You’ll have to come over and meet her when she’s not so busy. How about coming to dinner next Saturday for a home-cooked meal?”

“I’d like that, and I would like to meet your Sophie. Are you sure she wouldn’t mind?”

Casually waving his hand Bryce replied, “Not at all.”

---

Gage went about the task of unpacking all his worldly goods, which amounted to a couple rooms of furniture and the bare essentials needed by a bachelor. He had everything in its place by the end of the weekend, and he felt much more prepared to face the week of work ahead.

He forced himself to stay away from the hotel barroom, determined to get on with life. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dislodge the thoughts of the golden-haired woman from his mind. His sleep was still restless and disturbed, and curiously, he also began to notice his dog Rambo was looking equally weary.

By Thursday evening, Rambo was lying limp on the back porch when Gage went to check on him. He was so concerned by his lethargy, he took him to the vet the first thing the next morning.

Gage paced in the waiting room, impatient and nervous with the smell of alcohol and disinfectant permeating the air. Rambo had been perfectly healthy when he moved into the house. What could have caused his health to deteriorate so quickly? He wondered if the dog had eaten something rotten, or, heaven forbid, he was allergic to the shrubs surrounding the house and yard.

The vet finally called Gage into the examination room with Rambo.

“Well, Doc, what’s wrong with Rambo?”

“Mr. Jenkins, we did blood work, checked him for worms and conducted several other tests, but found nothing wrong with him, physically. However, all the signs point to nervous exhaustion.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dog is a nervous wreck,” the vet answered, patting Rambo on the head.

“A nervous wreck? How can a dog be a nervous wreck?”

“Have you made any changes in his routine?”

“I’ve moved to a new house. But we’ve moved to new houses before, and he didn’t react like this.”

“You may need to observe him for a day, without his being aware of it, to determine the cause of his nervous disorder. If you’d like, I could give you some tranquilizers for when he is particularly distressed.”

“I’m not believing this. Rambo...is a wimp?” Gage looked at the dog in question as he lay on his side, his tail beating a slow tattoo on the examination table. “Some tough guy,” he said, as he scratched the dog behind his ear.

Gage held out this hand to the veterinarian. “Thanks Doc. I’ll try to get to the bottom of it this weekend.”

---

On Saturday, after Sophie left to run her usual weekend errands, Bryce slipped over to Gage’s to check on his new work-in-progress pal. He tapped on the side door and heard Gage call out, “Let yourself in. I’m back here in the den.”

Bryce followed the sound of Gage’s voice to the back of the house. He was sitting on a folding chair with his feet propped against the windowsill.

“Pull up a chair and watch this,” Gage said, without looking at him.

Curious as to what riveted Gage’s attention to the backyard, Bryce glanced out the window. The yard looked like any other yard, although it could stand mowing. Then he noticed Rambo crouched next to the fence gate separating the two yards. The dog was looking anxiously upwards. Bryce’s gaze traveled to the top of the gate, and there, licking his fur nonchalantly, was Cujo.

“Okay, there’s a dog and a cat. Is this what you wanted me to see?”

“Just wait,” Gage responded, his eyes intent on the scene before him.

Rambo suddenly lunged forward and barked fiercely several times in succession.

The cat flicked his tail and jumped out of sight.

Rambo continued to bark ferociously at the spot the cat had last occupied. He sat back on his hindquarters, chest pushed out, with the demeanor of a conquering hero. When the cat did not reappear, Rambo turned and trotted toward the porch and his bowl of water.

Intent on watching Rambo lap the water from his bowl, Bryce almost missed the sudden movement from the corner of his eye. He saw a streak of white and yellow fur flying over the top of the gate. Cujo immediately crouched like a stalking lion and crept stealthily through the tall grass toward the unsuspecting dog.

When he was within a few feet of the dog, Cujo reared on his hind legs, with front paws extended, and gave an unholy hiss.

Rambo yelped and scrambled through his bowls of water and food, desperate to escape his attacker.

In one stunning leap, Cujo landed in the center of Rambo’s back and latched onto him with his claws, continuing to hiss and screech.

The terrified dog took off at a dead run with the cat still attached to his back.

They completed a full circle of the yard before the cat, apparently satisfied with his victory, leapt off the dog’s back and quickly scaled the gate to the safety of his own yard.

Unaware that the cat had abandoned the attack, Rambo made another full circle of the yard before finally slowing, glancing behind to locate his vicious assailant. He stopped and stood in the middle of the yard, nervously shifting from one side to the other, looking for an ambush. Satisfied the coast was clear and the enemy had departed, Rambo slumped to the porch and collapsed in exhaustion, his chest heaving from the exertion.

“Un-freakin’-believable,” Bryce whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Gives me the willies. My vet thinks I need to put my dog on tranquilizers. I think the cat needs them. Hell, the cat scares me.” Gage sat back in his chair, lifted his beer to his mouth and took a long gulp.

“Me, too. Makes me not want to go home tonight,” Bryce said still staring at the gate.

“Why’s that?” Gage turned his head toward Bryce standing beside him.

Bryce shook himself out of his trance and reached into the ice chest next to Gage’s chair for a beer. He popped the top and took a long swig before answering. “He’s the devil incarnate, not to mention, he’s my roommate’s beloved pet.”

“I feel for you, dude,” Gage said, staring at the heaving form of his terrorized dog.

“I’ve been trying to get the upper hand with that cat since I moved in,” Bryce said. “He needs to be taught a lesson. Got any suggestions?”

“What we need is a battle plan, and you’re in luck. I’m the military strategist here. This means war, and Rambo, ol’ pal, you will be avenged.”

Both men came to their feet.

Gage lifted his beer in salute. “To war?”

Bryce slammed his can against Gage’s. “To war!”