\n With a grunt, I heaved the unconscious bundle of fur and bones onto a makeshift pallet in the middle of my living room. It was eerily reminiscent of when I brought Sally home, except for the fact that Sally herself, instead of reposing uneasily on the pallet, was lying on the floor next to my couch, and staring at the comatose Feline. I sat on the couch myself, and sat down. I'd already prepared the chickens I'd bought earlier, so that as soon as the Feline woke up, I could get to work treating his malnutrition.

\n           For whatever reason, the Feline took longer to come around than Sally. Perhaps it was because he'd been rendered unconscious via extreme prostration rather than a tranq dart. After perhaps an hour (I amused myself and Sally by watching the evening news), he groaned and put a paw over his face. I switched off the television sharpish, and waited for his next move. After a second or so, he moved his paw and blinked blearily at the ceiling. Then, he spoke.

\n           Any competent psychologist will tell you that affected speech mannerisms are learned during development, rather than known genetically. However, it still surprised me when the Feline spoke with a pronounced Irish accent. "By the Emerald Isles, I made it. Hah! They said I'd never make it into heaven, but I showed them!"

\n           Sally, mystified by our new guest, slowly walked over to the Feline. For whatever reason, when I had gotten her clothes, she shifted from going on four legs most of the time to two legs. She knelt next to him, and sniffed him a few times.

\n           The Feline laughed softly, and reached up to stroke her face. "And how about that, an angel, right on time. Tell me, lass, what's your name?"

\n Sally blinked and looked sweetly down at him. I smiled; In the right light, Sally probably did look angelic. "I'm Sally."

\n           The Feline smiled. "Lovely. Just... Lovely. My name is Falin, but you can call me anything you want. Tell me, are there any more like you around?"

\n Sally didn't say anything, but instead looked up towards me. Falin followed her gaze, and froze, staring upside-down at me. I saw his mouth move faintly, but I didn't hear anything.

\n           "Say again?" I said.

\n           Falin just stared, but Sally cheerfully added "He said 'This can't be Heaven; they don't let humans in.'" Then, looking pensive, she said "What's Heaven?"

\n I said "Tell you later, puppy." I got up, and started walking towards Falin. As I approached, he rolled from his back over to his stomach, just like Sally had. It was probably the animal part of their brain; the stomach is one of the most vulnerable parts of the body, and leaving it exposed isn't a wise idea around something you don't trust. His hackles stood up, and I could tell that he was a hairsbreadth from hissing at me. This, if you haven't heard it yourself, is quite a sound coming from a cat as big as a human.

\n           I stopped before I got too close, and knelt down, so we were  more or less at the same level. I looked him over for a second, to let him settle.

\n Falin was thin even by Feline standards, and anorexic by human ones. It was obvious he'd been starved; and not oh-god-I'm-so-hungry starved, but stomach-bloated-it's-time-to-die starved. In addition to that, his veins and lymph nodes were swollen; classic symptoms of electrolyte imbalance, caused by advanced prostration; he was, to the point of expiring, over-worked and under-fed. His fur was a tawny orange that folded into itself in spots on his emaciated frame, and surprisingly blue eyes glinted out at me.

\n After a moment, I spoke. "Uh, Falin, right?"

\n He nodded.

\n "Alright," I said "That's cool; uncommon name. Look, Falin; you look like you expect me to hit you, or something, so let me clear this up. I don't know what's happened to you, and I suspect I don't want to, but believe you me, it's not going to happen again. Under my roof, you're going to be treated right. I took a look at you earlier; you're malnourished, and been worked half to death. You're hungry, right?"

\n He nodded, staring at me as if I'd sprouted a second head when I wasn't looking.

\n "I thought so. Come on; we need to get you outside of some food. Do you like chicken, or would steak be better?"

\n Falin blinked a few times, and pinched himself "Eh... Chicken's fine."

\n I smiled; his accent was interesting to listen to. He pronounced 'fine' 'foin'. I stood up. "Alright, this way."

\n           I led the way to the kitchen. Falin followed me, on all fours. Sally held back to walk with him, and she reverted to all fours as well, perhaps in an attempt to make him more comfortable. I got out the plate of diced chicken, and since I'm a responsible host, I laid out silverware for him. He, unlike Sally, sat right down in the chair. Also unlike Sally, he actually picked up his silverware, and used. I watched. His table manners were impeccable; he would cut off a small piece of chicken, spear it with his fork, and eat it, chewing with his mouth closed. No elbows on the table, no using fingers; it was better than a lot of actual humans I know. I watched this for about a minute, and then said "Falin, you know no one's expecting you to be civilized when you're starving to death. Go ahead and have at."    

\n He stared at me for a few seconds curiously, and then turned back to his food. I'm not exactly sure what happened just then, but next thing I know, the plate's empty and Falin was sitting back with a glazed expression on his face. I did a double take, and whistled. "Ever considered taking that act on the road?"

\n He looked at me, and raised an eyebrow. He said nothing.

\n I snapped my fingers. "Right, almost forget." I got up and opened the fridge. As I was rustling inside, I said "Your electrolyte balance isn't looking good, so I figure we might as well fix that as soon as possible. Here," I said, tossing him a bottle of red fluid. "This is specially formulated to restore electrolytes. Drink up."

\n Falin, instead of doing so, glared at me. I froze. I didn't know what I'd done, but I knew that if he so chose, he could rip me apart. He said "Alright, pal, what's your angle? Humans don't do naught for anything else unless they think they can get something in return. So, what do you want? Your floors waxed? Your shoes shined? Get on with it."

\n           His words pierced to that lump of coal that lived in my heart. I sat down with a heavy sigh, and rested my head in my hands. After a moment, I spoke. I sounded muffled. "You're right. You're absolutely right. We don't do anything for anyone else. I guess my angle is that I'm trying to repay a debt that can't be repaid. Long story short, I made Wildlians possible. That's my albatross, my millstone, the reason I'm going to burn someday."

\n Sally could hear the self-hatred in my voice, and whined, rubbing against my legs. I continued. "A couple of years ago, I fixed the Hand-Paw problem. Maybe you've heard about. First generation Wildlians could have hands, or paws; not both. Those with paws could run on all fours, and suffered very little bone stress, but couldn't manipulate things without thumbs. Those with hands had opposable thumbs, but had weaker bone structure, and were prone to injury. I spliced up the solution; take a look at your hand."

\n           In confusion, Falin examined his hand. A Wildlian hand looks a lot like a human hand; four fingers and a thumb. The difference is, Wildlians have pads on the undersides of their fingers and palms. Also, although their finger joints are longer, they have fewer. While humans have triple-jointed fingers, Wildlians have two. But the most amazing part about them was my contribution. Wildlian have a sort of calcified gear in their thumbs. When they shift their spines to run on all fours, their thumbs shift too. They turn a little to fall on their pads, and scoot in a little closer to the hand. It was this little splice that allowed Wildlians to have both hands and paws. It also overcame the last barrier to commercial production of Wildlians.

\n "I invented that," I said, "and I'll be damned because of it. If I had had the faintest inkling of the storm on the horizon, I'd never have done it. But I did, and now, Wildlians are everywhere. They do all our manual labor, all the farming, all the jobs we didn't like or found distasteful. The lowest job a human can have is a foreman. We're all just riding off the labor of Wildlians. I mean, why employ humans when you can just make a few Wildlians do it without pay? That's it," I said helplessly, "the world is officially a dystopian science-fiction story. A hellhole of genetic engineering, ruled by a corporation with an iron fist. Except, in this story, the one who began it, instead of taking down the organization in a blaze of glory, gets to stew in his own guilt until his end, knowing that, if there's any justice in the world, he'll be cast into a lake of fire. I mean, look at this!"

\n In disgust, I tossed Falin a pamphlet I kept on my table to remind myself. He flipped it open, and began to read. I went on. "Look at it! They're not even pretending you're sentient. They're specializing you. Look; 'Felines for domestic service, Canines and Lupines for security and home defense, Mussines for manual labor, Leonines for child care, and Vulpines for 'companionship'!' I don't think I need to tell you what that last one stands for. And I can't do anything about it. I considered appealing on a civil rights case, but my lawyer advised against it. Wildlians now form the backbone of our workforce. Hell, even the Vatican took back their stance against genetic engineering. Last time I checked, the Pope employed over 50 Wildlians, 20 of which are Vulpines. It's a disease, one that's spreading like wildfire. And it's all my fault."

\n By the end of my tirade, I was actively fighting to hold back tears of shame. Sally whined piteously at my feet, and put her paws on my lap so she could lean up and lick my face. I stroked her head absent-mindedly as I clenched and unclenched my other hand to calm myself.

\n After I got myself under control, I looked back up at Falin, who was staring at the ceiling. He murmured "Well, I never thought I'd live to see the day I met a human who gives a shite. You know, Boss, you're alright." He looked at me and grinned. "A 'course that could just be because you fed and watered me, and introduced me to the lovely Ms. Sally. And the fact that you live in the lap of luxury, but let's just say it's because you're a great guy."

\n I smiled wryly; I liked him already. "Agreed."

\n           He twisted open the top of the bottle I'd given him, but before he drank, he motioned to Sally, who was still rubbing against my legs. "So... What's her story?"

\n I got out of my chair, and picked Sally up by the midriff, set her on her feet, and said "Come on, Sally, it's just not dignified." She draped her arms around me from behind, and started purring and nibbling on my ear. I sighed, and looked back to Falin, who was smirking. "Affectionate, isn't she?" he said.

\n           I rolled my eyes. "You might say that. As for her, well, just click here and here; that'll give you the gist of it." (What? A guy can't break the fourth wall every once in a while?)

\n "Ah," he said, after reading, "if that just isn't an after-school special."

\n           "That reminds me," I said. "I'll be right back."

\n           I went and got the box of clothes that were meant for him. Hefting it into the kitchen, I set it down on the table and slit the seals with a pair of scissors. I flipped open the top, and pushed the box towards him. "Here," I said, "compliments of management."

\n           He tore into the box with ravenous delight. While Wildlians weren't prohibited from having clothes, unless they worked in public, they weren't expected to wear them. I felt that an important step in getting them seen as human would be to clothe them. Also, more to the point, I wouldn't have to be weirded out over having a naked male and female living with me. Eventually, Falin settled on a pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt, white with blue stripes. As he snapped his collar smartly, he grinned. "Aye, this is the stuff. I always wondered if these were as comfortable as they looked."

\n I raised an eyebrow. "Are they?"

\n He adjusted himself. "Well, my boys aren't that happy about it, but overall I can't complain."

\n I smirked at his frankness. "Thanks for sharing."

\n He shrugged, and took a few steps back to admire himself. "Well, Boss, you asked. If you asked me..."

\n I didn't to find out what he thought, because just then, he grabbed his head, and his eyes unfocused. He tilted at awkward angle, and he breathed "Whoo! The world's twisting on me."

\n           I was on my feet in a second, supporting him on his feet. "Alright, mister, that's it. You're getting into bed now."

\n He leaned on me heavily. "Aye, there's the rub, the red, red, rose, that's newly sprung in June..."

\n I frowned as I helped him upstairs. He's quoting Shakespeare and Burns... Of course. I helped him roll onto my guest bed, and turned to Sally, who was following us. "Sally, stay here, would you? He'd probably be more comfortable with you watching than with me."

\n She nodded, and jumped into the bed as well, rubbing her muzzle on Falin's limp arms. I rolled my eyes, and left them to it. I got dressed for bed, and after brushing my teeth, slid beneath the sheets. I kind of missed Sally's warm weight against me,  but I figured it was rather inappropriate; she would be better off staying with Falin. I rolled over onto my side, and began to doze off.

\n           I'm not sure how much time passed, but sometime during the night, I blinked awake sleepily. There was something warm snuggled against me. I rolled over, and saw Sally burying her nose against my shoulder. Sleepily, I said "Sally, aren't you supposed to be with Falin?"

\n She gazed at me with those soulful eyes. "But I wanted to sleep in here, Master."

\n I heard another voice from the foot of the bed. "Let not your heart be troubled, Boss. I'll just curl up here."

\n I felt Falin jump onto the bed, and curl into a ball at its foot. He kicked a few times, and then settled down. Sally, apparently emboldened by his presence, didn't even wait until I was asleep to sneak beneath the sheets. As she buried her muzzle into the hollow of my neck, I smiled, sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. Ah, what the heck. What's the harm, right?

\n (I bet you expect me to say something ominous about what the harm could be. Well, hahaha! You are now hearing this in your head, spoken in my voice!)