There was a bit of a routine at the Terrier's household.

Each morning, Saoirse would wake just after dawn. She'd make her simple bed, shower, dress, and go downstairs to help Sheila with breakfast. Really, she'd make the food while Sheila made the tea. From there, after setting the table, eating, and washing the dishes, Saoirse would help Oliver with any outdoors tasks and chores.

Lunch would roll around and Saoirse would make everyone a light meal before helping Sheila with the garden. By the time the hottest part of the day came along, Saoirse was done with her chores and often was found lounging on the porch with a book or a mess of papers – some to write on, some to draw on. Usually she'd have a glass of sweet iced tea in her hand or a piece of fruit. It was her 'free time' to do as she pleased.

Dinner was made usually by Sheila, although Saoirse set the table and washed dishes afterwards. In the evenings, they'd either play a game, talk about a certain book, or, sometimes, just watch television. Those were the times that Saoirse would drift off into a light slumber on the couch.

But since the return from Katz Store, the routine was disrupted.

That man, Katz, plagued her dreams frequently since then. Even during her free time, Saoirse found her thoughts drifting back to that cat. Not only the cat, but the city as well.

She had asked Oliver on the drive back why they went to a new city. He growled but said nothing. She had taken to looking out the window for the rest of the ride. No matter, she thought, she wouldn't be seeing Katz' anytime soon. They so rarely went to the grocery store, often growing, canning, and baking their own food, that she doubted they would return to the same place next time.

And yet…those cold, yellow eyes came up in her dreams, in her naps, in her thoughts.

Weirdo.

A week went by. Oliver's side kept hurting more and more. Sheila was tired far more often than normal. They were both being worn out, though Saoirse refused to accept it. She hardly dared to wonder what was the cause of it all, and if there were treatments besides aspirin for either of them. They refused to comment on it either. That worked out well for the human; she'd rather pick up the extra work around the farm than discuss it out loud.

If they did, the question of 'what happens after' would come up. Saoirse hadn't a clue what might happen afterwards…and she didn't want to know. As far as she knew, they weren't great friends with many others – they knew one other dog, Courage, but that was really the extent. So what would happen to her, a human, in this world after? Who would she go to? Be owned by?

…No. It was better to not think on any of that.

One day, Saoirse went to get the paper from the mailbox since Oliver's side ached too much to make the walk. She saw a few letters as well, but her eyes immediately went to the front page of Nowhere News. "New Leash Laws – Effective Today". Huh?

Placing the letters underneath her arm, she opened the paper and skimmed it. It was a new law in the old city they often went to, stating that all humans must be collared and leashed. The reason? They were apt to try and escape otherwise.

She made a face. So then…how long had the debates been going on? Or did the Terrier's think she would try to run as well? Somehow she knew that this was the reason why they had tried the new store, the new city.

She just wasn't sure why.

As she walked up the driveway to the house, she glanced at the letters underneath her arm. Bills, bills, a letter from Courage…and a suspiciously blank envelope. Saoirse blinked and paused, looking it over. It…had no return address. It just said 'Terriers'. Was there a way to look into it without them knowing?

Whoa. Such a thought was…dangerous. She bit her bottom lip and ran her fingertips over her collar. No, she thought, best to behave. She glanced around though, wondering how the letter was delivered without a stamp. A chill traveled down her spine despite the summer sun. She quickly went inside.

It was best to stick her nose in a book rather than someone else's business.

Hm, that was upsetting. They ran out of bread. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, as Sheila made bread from scratch, but given the woman's ill state…well, they wouldn't be making anything anytime soon. Saoirse had offered to make the bread, but Sheila scoffed weakly in her chair and said it would just be a waste of resources.

Not that the human could disagree. She was horrible at making bread. The kneading part was what undid her efforts ever time. For whatever reason, she just sucked at it. When, at one point, she had commented to her owner about her ability, Sheila smiled and said that her mentor and friend of baking had been a cat.

It made sense.

So they would have to go to the store, an idea that turned Saoirse's stomach. Ever since she had brought back the newspaper the other day, she had been thinking about her owners' reactions. They shared a look, a slight growl, and went oddly silent for the rest of the day. That night, however, she could hear them talking through the walls. It was muffled, but it didn't stop until midnight.

Naturally that meant going to Katz' city. Ha, as if that implied that Katz owned the city…still. It made Saoirse uneasy. Tense. Nervous. She hoped her owner would get the bread this time instead of her so she could hide in the truck.

Luckily, or unluckily, Oliver wasn't feeling up to driving today. His side had rendered him stuck in bed – something that proved to be alarming and a blessing. So for the rest of the day, Saoirse spent her time divided between their bedroom upstairs and the living room downstairs. Oh, and the kitchen of course.

She wanted to call a doctor, but they protested. She obeyed – for now. If it got any worse…well. Tomorrow they might not go to the store either, but to a doctor's office, if she had anything to say about it. By the evening, the pair of them were in bed after some soup, crackers, tea, and medicine. Given that it was still four hours before she went to sleep, Saoirse decided to use it as free time – after she washed dishes, of course.

Her gaze flickered to the window several times as she washed the bowls. There was something…off. She felt off. As to why or to what, she had no idea. Brushing it off, she hummed a song and finished her chore.

With that done, she glanced around the living room, which she had cleaned up during dinner. Well, it was too dark – even with the nearly full moon outside – to read on the porch. The light would just attract bugs. Still, it was a lovely, cool summer night…why not spend it outside instead of before the television, alone?

Brushing her long hair into a bun, careful not to get it tangled in her collar, Saoirse quietly stepped outside. She'd stay nearby just in case someone needed her. Oh, the warm breeze that drifted over her legs, rustled her frilly dress…she smiled. It felt amazing!

Tilting her chin up to face the moon, she held her hands up and sighed in pleasure. It was so dark…it was so quiet…so calm. She took a few steps away from the house and laid on her back. Then she counted the stars. There were oh so many. She always lost track after seventy-eight. Then she would start again…and again…and once more before…

Saoirse fell asleep.

The night was just so calm, the breeze so soft, the stars too kind. She fell asleep, oblivious to the monsters that lurked in the shadows with her.

So when she woke just at dawn, the sun gently caressing her as it rose, she was startled. Was everyone okay? How could she have fallen asleep? Oh, Sheila would be displeased with her dirty dress.

But the dress would be the least of her concerns, for when she checked in on the elderly dogs, they were nowhere to be found.