William had gone to sleep in a patch of moonlight on his favourite windowsill. Now he’s in the back window of a taxi.
He’d lived in the apartment ever since he was carried home in Doreen’s coat pocket. He liked the apartment; there were lots of warm places to nap. It was up so high he could look into the trees and watch birds and squirrels.
Doreen and Harold called him Binky and he came when he was called by that ridiculous name, providing it was meal-time or he felt like moving anyway. But his true name was William.
Tonight there had been raised voices from Doreen and Harold but he’d let the noise swirl over him. If he’d let the loud sounds keep him awake, he’d never sleep; they were always arguing. It had started soon after Harold had brought home somebody different when Doreen was away. William had been frightened by the woman’s laugh and had hidden under the bed. That had turned out to be a big mistake. His next hiding spot had been under Harold’s green recliner. He'd had to coaxed out with tuna long after the woman left.
And now here he is out at night heading away from the cozy apartment, listening to Doreen cry. William hopes Doreen has put some of his canned food in the big bag she’s holding on her lap. It’s probably too much to ask that she’s remembered to grab his bowl, too.