‘Dog returns as a deity.’

My head came up sharply. ‘What?’

He smiled at me and read it out again, as if he was on stage at the Globe. ‘Dog returns as a deity.’

I tore up the last of the beermat. ‘God.’

‘Ah. You’re a sharp tack, too.’

I felt like crying. The beermat had become a heap of curling shreds. I gathered them with the edge of my palm, my own snowdrift.

The door opened and though I didn’t look up straight away, I felt the air change just slightly, a subtle quickening. Like the wind had come in.

A man, tall and roughly sketched. The man with the bird. Except it wasn’t a bird in his hands this time. It was Tyger.

I blurted his name and stood up so quickly that the table tilted and my vodka fell off, the glass rolling halfway across the room. Tyger twisted out of the man’s hands onto the floor and ran through the spilt drink towards me, his lead trailing.

I scooped him up and put my face in his fur. ‘Where have you been?’ Tiny manic tremors shot up and down his legs.

The man had a hand in the pocket of his jeans, awkward, as if he didn’t know how to stand up properly. I was sure he recognised me.

‘How did you – where did you find him?’

‘He found me, I think.’ He looked vaguely behind him. ‘Up in the hills, west of here.’ He sounded like he needed to cough, clear his throat.

‘Oh my God. You are unbelievable,’ I said to Tyger. He licked my ear and whimpered. I fingered his collar. ‘Did you call the number?’

‘No one picked up. Thought someone might know here.’ He glanced round and I saw then how uncomfortable he was.

The landlord had the heels of his hands on the bar, thick forearms bulging. He tossed the man a small, slight nod and there was a light in his eyes, but not much. I saw the man register the nod and peek from under his eyebrows at the rest of the room. The couple in the corner were pretending not to watch. Crossword Guy was leaning back with a strange look on his face, proud and sleazy and waxen. His hand was crumpling a page of his paper.

The man swallowed, hard, and spoke to the floor. ‘Take it easy.’ He turned.

‘No, wait—’ I took a step towards him. Everyone was still looking at us. ‘Can I buy you a drink or anything?’

He snapped his eyes to me, two dark stabs. ‘No, you’re all right.’ And he left.

I walked down the road clutching Tyger like a brand new designer bag.

‘Where did you go, you crazy fucker?’ He was still quivering, little sporadic spasms. ‘Did he torture you?’ There wasn’t a mark on him, just some mud caked in the pads of his paws. ‘Did he mess with your mind?’ I imagined him tied to a chair, his straggly belly fur all over the place, torchlight making white orbs of his eyes. ‘Or was he nice to you? Did you get doggy treats?’