We’re downstairs in time to see Dewey standing at the back door looking like a wet mop with a face, while Gramps is still making his way through the yard. I grab one of the towels and wrap Dewey up inside of it.

“There you go,” I tell her. “I’ll get you warm and dry.”

Macy grabs another towel and we pat her down together, but then Dewey shakes her body and sprays rainwater everywhere.

Macy exclaims, “Yuck!”

I couldn’t help it! And then she shakes again, involuntarily skidding across the kitchen floor. “It’s okay,” I tell her, and then I shake my wet hair too. Macy lets out another laugh-shriek.

Gramps comes in through the door, and somehow, he’s stayed mostly dry. “Oh, good, I can see you’re not getting overly excited about the dog coming inside.”

Dewey is cautious as she ventures into the house. I spot Catniss before she does. She stalks along the back of the couch, watching Dewey’s every move. When Dewey catches sight of her, she whines and hides behind me.

You have a cat?

“Oh, don’t worry about Catniss, Dewey,” Gramps hangs his coat over a kitchen chair and sits on the couch. He holds his hand out, and Catniss rubs her face against his hand. “She’s a big softie once you get to know her.”

Macy joins Gramps, and I coax Dewey to follow.

I thought you liked other animals? I ask her, remembering the day at the pond.

Dewey looks up at me through her long doggy eyelashes, and I can feel how nervous she is about Catniss. It’s not because she’s a cat—it’s because she’s a family member.

“You’re a family member too,” I say out loud. But I know that’s not exactly true yet.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, and Dewey sits in my lap like she’s some kind of a mini teacup dog. I wrap my arms around her and try my best to tell her with my thoughts that Catniss is a friend. “Right, Catniss?” I say out loud.

Catniss slinks off the couch and walks toward Dewey with a little meow, but Dewey won’t look at her; she buries her face under my arm. I kiss her soft forehead and then try to raise her chin, but she keeps her eyes closed.

I don’t know if Catniss can hear me the way Dewey does, but I plead with her, Please, Catniss. Be nice.

Catniss sits down in front of us and yawns with a big tigerlike stretch, then sets her paw on Dewey’s tail. It swishes back and forth once. Dewey glances at Catniss but turns back to me right away. Catniss climbs up onto my leg and paws at Dewey like she’s tapping on her shoulder.

“Look,” I whisper. “She wants to be friends.”