The ambiance in the Horseland house was everything except enjoyable at the moment. Every human was irritated and they infected the horses and other animals with it. Angora had felt the frustration in every bone of her little body. She had enough of it. Stables it was.

But after a week with Aztec, Schmidt, Annie, Dorrestein, Renate, Beckman and Thea, oh, and not to forget: the newbie Jimber Angora couldn't stand any more horse related things. Deep in the night she went back to the house, hoping to find the reason for all the irritation and some cat food. She was also sick of the rats and mousses.

No high heels in the hallway? That was different. Also no dishes in the sink and a slight smell of cleanser. Well, praise the milk. Had John and Ava argued that bad that John had cleaned the house from top till bottom? Wouldn't be the first time with those two hotheads and for sure not the last time either, but still there felt something wrong in the house. Angora found her food at the usual place and the usual amount. It was not much. They didn't want her to loose her appetite for the mice. The animal could still remember her sister who had been adopted by a nice family and had became a house cat. Would be a nice life. The grey feline had to work for her food or otherwise Ava kicked her out.

After a few sips of the tap water Angora decided to look around to find some clues. Everywhere she looked there were lacking things. Where were the papers on John's desk? What happened with the broom in the kitchen? She couldn't find it. Why were there no toys in the living room?

That must have been a hell of a fight. A passive aggressive fight that is, because her two owners never argued when Bailey was around. It made the seven year old boy really upset, so Ava and John fought each other with deadly stares, silences and sarcasm as long as he was in the neighbourhood.

Not so long ago Shep had mentioned to Angora that he feared that Horseland would come to an end if they kept arguing that much. Angora had only laughed. Like her owners she appreciated a good fight and saw the importance of letting your frustrations go, instead of keeping it all in. The collie should stop worrying that much.

Angora took the stairs and saw that the doors to the bedroom were all slightly open. She walked into Baileys room first, because this one was the closest to her. In between the stuffed animals Angora spotted the Handler boy who had taken not only his, but also Angora's, favourite animal in his arms. It was a really soft, big sheep. The back of the boy was covered by a bear, a tiger and a dog. Nearby his pillow was another bear and at Bailey's feet lay a crocodile. To complete this bunch of animals the whole wall was covered with pictures of horses, mainly Aztec's. Angora had yet to see what would became of this young stallion. John couldn't get him under the saddle as well as he would have liked to and had asked his brother Jim for help.

Nothing special here. Angora went to the room of John and Ava, expecting them to lay on the edge of their part of the bed, but instead they were spooning. What was going on in this household? Usually they were mad at each other for days. Angora had enough of it. She had searched the whole house and still no answer. Tomorrow she would come back, hide herself and see what the humans were all worked up for so she could find some peace and take her eighteen hours of sleep. Wait. What day was it tomorrow? Friday wasn't it? Today had been Ava's laundry day, so that would mean that there were waving blouses and sheets in the night breeze at the attic. That sounded like a plan to Angora even if she knew that Ava would yell at her for hunting sleeves, but the cat couldn't care less for all the trouble the humans caused Horseland the last few days. Sleeve hunting it was.

With her soft paws she run upstairs without making a sound, climbed the ladder and pushed the hatch, which was not that heavy, to enter the highest floor of the house. Ava had left the light on again. In the weak gleam of the light bulb the cat saw the many blouses of John waving kindly in the breeze. Oh, there was his favourite blue one. She would get it. Angora lowered her body, measured the distance and jumped to get her prey. With a bump she landed on the floor, the blouse between her paws.

'Ah!' The cat fled under the iron bed. Ava. Bitch. Scarring the hell out of her.

'Angora, is that you?' squeaked a voice. After that came a sob. Oh, yeah, Angora forgot that Jimber

had arrived with the boy of Alice and Mark. So Will had been the cause of all the trouble. John hated it when visit came unnoticed and even more so when they were going to stay for a while. Will and Jimber had been here since Saturday.

'Angora?' That nearly sounded like a cry for distress. No, it was a sound of distress. Angora left the safety of the bed and walked towards the source of the sound. She found Will in the corner of the attic where he was sitting against the washing machine with a face stained by tears. When he saw her his mood seemed to lift a bit.

'Were you hunting sleeves again?' the ten year old boy asked. The distress had left his voice, but still Angora could smell the fear. Yup, this must have been the reason for all the trouble. Although Angora was a drama lover, she wasn't a fan of this kind of drama. This, as she could sense, was serious.

The cat looked at Will. The boy looked at Angora. Angora swished her tail. The boy rubbed his face. Then Angora fled from the attic. This was completely wrong. Where were Alice, Mark and the old Harold? She hadn't seen them when Will and Jimber came to Horseland. Usually they came with the whole family. Oh, whatever was going on with the humans it made Angora feel sick.

Standing on the floor with the bedrooms Angora checked if she wasn't being followed, which wasn't the case. The whole house was silent. Good. Back to the barn with Shep and the others. It wasn't the company Angora was waiting for at the moment, but at least it was company. She wouldn't have to sit next to a washing machine. What was wrong with the bed anyway? At this time he should sleep, not weep. Maybe he would go to bed if he wouldn't feel so alone on the attic Angora thought while she walked past Baileys room. She sighted. Why did she even care?

Angora stepped into the boys room and took the crocodile from the bed. Then she went to the attic again.

'Angora, are you there again?' Will squeezed. Yes, yes, she was coming. With the stuffed reptile as a prey between her fangs Angora manoeuvred between the waving sheets, blouses and other laundry. She found the boy on the same place, sitting against the washing machine. He seemed a bit surprised when he saw her with the crocodile. Good change he recognised it as Bailey's.

Angora put the stuffed animal at his feet. Well, that was it. In all her strange moods she had done a good deed and now it was up to the boy to do what's left. To encourage him to go to sleep she marked him quickly. Than she wanted to leave, but Will picked her up, put her on his lap and hugged her in a way she couldn't escape. The cat started protesting. This was not the plan! In all her goodness she had brought that crocodile upstairs, but the cat herself wasn't a stuffed animal. She was a farm cat who woke up with morning dew in her fur, slept in the hay and hunted on rats and mice. Her sister was the lazy house cat, but Angora was not. She was strong, she was independent, she was clever and the boy…the boy was warm and soft and kind and with every beat of his heart Angora felt the boy became calmer. Maybe it was better if she would stay this night. And maybe tomorrow too. Just to be sure.