Similarly to Beth, surprisingly, Arthur was so much a cat person that he hated dogs, even though he dug bones like them. He’d never openly state it, but if you ask him, he’d nod and pout about it. Dogs are really scary! I’ve told you about that time when I was little! When Arthur was little, he pulled a dog’s tail out of excitement and the dog tugged his arm like rope out of excitement. Arthur also recalled that during his expedition into Egypt, whenever he tried playing with dogs, they were always too aggressive—they had mistook Arthur for a dog—nipping his rear end. Arthur pointed to his bum.

“I had bandages alllll over it! No dogs!”

Beth did her famous face-palm and walked away, keeping her hot and bitter coffee on the table. 

A few weeks later, Bastet grew a tad taller, began to explore and roam the carpet floor, be independent—yet still was a baby. Her feet raised up and down, marched from one side of the house and raced to the other. From the tall stairsteps, Beth watched—looked down upon—the cat’s demeanor.

“God, that cat’s going to start chewing on stuff and scratch the crap out of the couches.” Beth told Arthur.

“Don’t say that or else you’ll jinx it!”

“It’s not jinxing when it’s an obvious fact.”

“It is!”

“It is not.”

“It is too!” Again, Beth’s palm showed her irritation. 

In the words of Arthur, Beth had indeed jinxed it and Bastet chewed the crap out of socks. I told you not to jinx it! Now my socks are ruined and they don’t have partners! Luckily due to Arthur’s imagination, he made a few of the single socks into puppets and arranged the rest of the lonely socks for mixed-marriages. Clearly the havoc Bastet made was seen by Beth to be unfitting of a supposed “deity of protection.”

One day after Beth came back from work while Arthur stayed at home during break, Arthur excitingly obsessed over the words Babe look! Look what I taught Bastet! when an exhausted Beth barely returned home.

Bastet learned how to climb the kitchen counter, which was a field day for Arthur. As if Bastet were a wind-up toy, Arthur set the cat on the floor and encouraged Bastet with treats on top then kept repeating this. This led Bastet to always perch on the kitchen counter, waiting for Arthur’s treats.

“Arthur, can you not teach the cat dumb stuff like that?”

“I’m teaching Bastet to be more athletic, she’s supposed to be a deity y’know.”

“Arthur, you go on and on about deities and what not, can’t you take raising the cat more seriously?”

“But I do take care of Bastet, I take care of her seriously. She’s my little baby.”

“Well. . .” Beth was about to speak but a lack of uncertainty troubled her mind about how to reply or get through to Arthur so she decided to scoff. 

Bastet was again on the floor ready to leap onto the counter again. Thankfully, the cat wasn’t a dog or else Beth wouldn’t be as receptive. 

Why can’t have it been a dog? Beth thought to herself.

Arthur was a cat person and Beth was a dog person: Arthur liked cats and Beth liked dogs. How the two came together was like a sitcom. A young Arthur worked at a local café—not a barista, but a cashier—and had stumbled across a young Beth, a tired college student. One Americano, please. However, not only did Arthur ask for Beth’s name, but also her number with an ugly smug face. Beth sighed, rolled her eyes, and grabbed a latte, though the order was wrong. Eventually Beth became a regular and Arthur got her her usual, but instead of asking for her name, her number, a cat call. She’d eventually obliged to just a date, which became a few more after Arthur’s picnic skills in a grassy park. 

“God, you’re immature! How do you live without a parental guardian?”

“But I do!”

Arthur had lived with his parents because college dorms were much too expensive and Arthur had separation issues. Of course, his parents still expected to pay for some rent as he was no longer a child. 

“I bet you think I’m a bit childish,” Arthur began.

“Not even a bit, you are childish.”

Arthur paused, “You don’t have to go on picnics with me as dates, we can have picnics just as friends. Is that okay?”

“But I do.”

The two married at the same park, it was a small, nice wedding. Rice was thrown onto the catwalk by Arthur’s little cousin as she skipped towards the pedestal. Arthur stood wearing a sharp suit with a yellow bow tie. And lo and behold, was his silky black-haired bride in her graceful gown. Her steps were nimble—like a cat, Arthur thought—and she eyed Arthur’s giggly face. The two stood at the pedestal, sharing their vows, their I do’s.

Later, the couple would settle in a large house, and a bit later, Arthur would go on an Egyptian expedition and rescue Bastet. Then five more years, Arthur was no longer an archaeologist since he treated it like playing in a sandbox and instead became a witty professor at a community college.