I kept walking mindlessly. I found myself walking along the exact trajectory of the bus line heading toward my parents’ home. I don’t know about my father and stepmother … no, those fuckers, but I should’ve kissed my cat goodbye when I ran away from home. I didn’t know things were going to get this bad when I first left. My cat probably threw a tantrum to get them to bring me back, probably went on a fasting protest. But by now she would be purring, comfy in my dad’s crotch. My cat, Leche. When I would call Leche! she would run toward me. She would lap up milk—funny, Leche lapping up leche—the way she licked her jet-black paws. My calculating, lazy, petulant creature. I missed her.

I stopped in front of the pet shop. A shopgirl about my age opened the glass door to pull down the metal shutter. Her thighs were bulging out of her short leather skirt. She scowled at her nails. Her manicure must have been ruined. I approached the shopgirl, and showed her the stray dog I’d been carrying.

“Do you guys buy dogs by any chance? How much can you give me for this?”

“Wait, this isn’t your dog! That’s Nana. Her mama was looking everywhere for her!”

She told me Nana’s mama was at some café right now. She painstakingly described the café, which turned out to be super easy to find. It would have been simpler if she just said the café was on the second floor of the building across from the Farmer’s Coalition market, on the street that connects the university to the subway station. The interior of the café was dark and stuffy. The first snow is falling, the song that won some collegiate composer’s award, was playing. It didn’t suit the stale space. Don’t be sad, the white snow, the first one of this season, is falling. I liked the song’s opening; I’d spent my senior year of high school singing this song. It didn’t snow then, however.

The café’s owner yelped when she saw the dog in my arms, and started screeching, tears pouring out of her eyes. “Oh my god, where have you been, Nana? What happened? Did you get hurt, my love? Oh, my baby, you must be starving!” She showered the dog with tender words I’ve never heard directed toward myself in my entire life. For a long time, the café owner was hysterical, but she finally got it together enough to bring up the words I was waiting for. “How can I thank you? How can I reward you for bringing my Nana home?”