"Jennifer! Come down now or you'll be late for school!"

"Coming Winston!" Jenny called back.

"Meow!" she turned back to see Oliver by the doorway.

"Oh hi there, I'm sorry Oliver. I can't play with you now, I have to go to school. Later 'kay?" she gave him a quick oeck on the forehead before bolting down the stairs.

It had been 2 whole years since he last saw the gang and 2 years after his experience with Sykes, probaby the last at least. It still sent shivers down his spine thinking how close he was to death after the train collided with the man's limo. He missed the gang a lot, especially Dodger. The cool, brooklyn-accented dog who taught him about street life and the way of New York.

That was the past and Oliver was practically a kitten that time but now, he was somewhere in his teen years and was as tall as Dodger. His body build was very different (I mean it in a hot way) and there was a scruff of fur on his head, he had tried so hard, to comb down. He wondered what the gang looked like now? Older of course, but he hoped they didn't change that much and that he would still see Dodger wearing that red scarf around his neck.

The dog thought of it as style and it did look good on him. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Jenny scream outside.

"Jenny!" he ran down, then outside to find what she had been screaming about.

There was a Collie lying on the sidewalk, down the steps, and possibly alive. She looked beaten and Winston brought her inside and told jenny it would be fine and she got in her school bus.

"My, my the poor thing. I'll get some wet towels and bandage her. Oliver, would you kindly watched over her?" he looked at the teenage cat.

He meowed in approval and Winston went to the bathroom immediately. The figure groaned and Oliver placed his paw on her shoulder.

"Don't try to move, you're hurt bad but you're safe now," he calmed her down.

"Where am I?" she managed to ask before fainting again.

Winston came back with a bowl of warm water and some bandages.

"I might not be a doctor, but her legs seem to be broken. I'll have her bandaged up and I'll call a vet right after. She's just fortunate to still be alive," Winston was either talking to himself, or telling this to Oliver.

Very soon, the dog's broken legs were bandaged and the dried blood on her was wiped off. Oliver brought a large pillow for her head to rest on and waited until she woke up.

"WINSTON!" a voice called from upstairs.

Another housemate, Georgette. A spoiled, little rich bitch who thinks she's the queen of the house. Oliver thought of her as a nuisiance and him a pest to her, bossing poor Winston around and it was mostly because of her he almost got kidnapped in exchange for some money, but Fagin had a kind heart and gave him back to Jenny.

"WINSTON! Where is that oaf when you need him?" her voice became louder as she went down the stairs.

She saw the Collie and a horified expression filled her face.

"And what rubbish is that doing on my favorite couch pillows?" she asked.

"Shut your trap, can't you see she's hurt!" Oliver blocked her wa.

"Whatever she's doing, she should know better than to use my pillows," the poodle huffed.

"I got those for her. Knowing you're such a kind friend who knows how to share her things," Oliver added sarcastically.

"Once she wakes up, I want her off that pillow, you got that?" she grunted in annoyance.

"Whatever."

Georgette left the room, probably pissed and Oliver had a smug smile on his face. He and Georgette were never on good terms, but at times her nice side can show unexpectedly, which is so far rare.

"I called the vet now and I hope he gets here soon. Who knows how long this dog can survive," Winston patted both pets on the head, then went off to work.

Oliver noticed the scarf on her her neck he chuckled and it reminded him of Dodger.

"Is this the style of dogs today?" he asked himself and laughed a bit.

"Hey, take it or leave it," he jumped when he heard the Collie speak.

"Haha, scared ya huh?" she said with a hint of playfulness.

"Oh, uh hi. I'm Oliver, what's yours?"

"Shane, why this is strange. This is the first time I don't have an urge to chase a cat."

"I know, I get that a lot nowadays. Used to hang around with some dogs I knew, and hanged out a but too much I sometimes forget whether I'm a cat or dog," Oliver laughed.

"Well, can you bark like a dog?"

He demostrated and Shane looked half impresses and half freaked out.

"Wow, first time to see a cat bark and it's cool."

"Thank you, and By the way, a friend of mine wants you off the pillow. I'll just get you a new one."

"Spoiled rich girl?" Shane asked.

"Yup. How'd a know?"

"Judging by the place, the furniture, the quality, the-."

"I get the picture," Oliver cut her off with a chuckle.

"You know, you're not so bad...for a cat."

"Same to you, but for a dog," he smirked.

"Now shoo, before your Miss Prissy gets bossy and comes down here," Shane shooed him with her free

paw.

"Just stay comfy until I get back."

"Yeah, yeah."

He left, and Shane just laid there looking up at the ceiling. She didn'f forget her mission here, but in this condition, she'd have to stay put for a while, a long while.