I woke up the next morning groggy and grumpy.

Scooter, on the other hand, had shifted onto my belly.

Now I know why I was dreaming of suffocation and fur. I laughed softly and shook him awake.

“Hey, Scoots! Time for breakfast,” I said, swinging my feet out of bed.

Scooter mewed his agreement and hopped off the bed, trotting at my heels, almost like a dog.

I picked him up as we finished the stairs. The wonderful smell of pancakes hit my nose.

“Mrs. McCarthy?”

“Oh, g’morning, Aidan! I hope you like pancakes,” Mrs. McCarthy said, flourishing a pancake in its frying pan.

“I love them,” I told her, sitting down at the table.

“Good, good!”

“Where’s Seamus?”

“Poor thing – he left for work in the mornin’ – early, much too early for a person who likes his sleep,” Mrs. McCarthy told me, placing my breakfast in front of me.

“I see. Where does he work?”

“We’ve opened a brewery, deary, since you left fer…Arizona, was it?”

“Yeah, my house is in Arizona. Sounds like your mead picked up.”