Near his hip there's a cage with an unblinking cat sitting upright and still. Its neck twists up and around and lets loose with a cry from far back on the tongue, the opening of a rose in time-lapse. She hears him rifle through the fridge. Something falls and plops open on the floor. He doesn't bother to pick it up.
Birds are squawking, it's like being in a jungle den.
She tries to bring her hands forward to latch onto Jack's tail. She wants to knee him, bite him and she does, tearing loose a shank of shoulder. He yelps and the rest of the dogs join in. She doesn't hear him climb the steps, nor the slamming of his door. She hears nothing but the glandular want of dogs, the nearest panting heavily in her ear.