"Famous Last Words"

The Yankees Play Ball, Southwest Bronx, 1990

The wooden bat cracked against the ball, sending it flying across the field. The crowd went wild. Men and women cheered for the star players, children leaned precariously far over the stands, and strangest of all, a number of dogs in the audience barked at the uproar.

Dodger was one of those baseball-loving pets. He was in the front row, sitting beside Mr. Foxworth, who for once had abandoned his business clothes, wearing khaki shorts and a nice shirt instead. Dodger, of course, wore his navy blue bandana and matching Yankees ball cap. They had the best seats in the stadium, but this wasn't any old baseball stadium. This was the New York Yankees' home field in the Bronx.

"What a game, eh boy?" Mr. Foxworth laughed, waving his Yankees banner. Normally, he was a loyal Dodgers fan, but he was supporting the Yankees on his dog's behalf. "Looks like I'm not the only one who brought my dog today."

He was right. There were several canines in the crowd. Mr. Foxworth knew the team manager, so he'd paid to host a "bark at the park" day where people brought their furry friends. A portion of the proceeds went to city animal shelters, including Foxworth Home.

"There's nothing like seeing a ballgame in real life, right Dodger?" He knew his dog loved watching games on TV, so when he heard the Yankees were playing at their home field, Mr. Foxworth snatched up tickets. "Hey, look! That's a home run!"

Dodger barked excitedly. The baseball soared over the stadium, falling into the outstretched glove of a little boy, held high by his father. The crowd roared, and the father hugged his son. Mr. Foxworth picked Dodger up and gave him a hug, too.

He didn't care that they were in the Bronx. It didn't matter what he'd endured here—that was a long time ago, and he'd put it to rest. He was a different dog now.

It was a close game. To Dodger's dismay, the Yankees lost by the slimmest possible margin. Half the crowd sank into their seats, disappointed cries everywhere, even as the Yankees shook hands with the other team. "Well, that's life, boy. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose." Mr. Foxworth scratched his ears.

Dodger had been so into the game that he didn't know what to do. He was in shock. What broke him out of it was a rival fan about three rows down, laughing at a Yankees fan about their loss. Dodger felt blood flushing through his head. He growled.

The rival fan jumped in fright as Dodger began barking at him ferociously. He quickly shut up and sat back down, but Dodger kept barking. He was too angry to stop.

It wasn't until Mr. Foxworth yanked off his ball cap and whacked him with it that Dodger quieted down. "Bad dog, Dodger! You can't behave like that!" He whimpered, and Mr. Foxworth melted. "Aww, don't be sad. I know that guy was obnoxious, but you can't let people like him get to you. You can't be so angry."

Mr. Foxworth returned his ball cap, but Dodger felt horrible. He'd let his temper get the best of him, like so many times before. He thought he was a different dog now.

With the game over, they left the stadium. Mr. Foxworth walked him back to their limousine on his leash, as good a father as he could ask for. But on the way to the limo, Dodger couldn't help thinking of his real father. Duke had the same anger problems he did, only his dad embraced his bad temper, not caring who he hurt.

As Mr. Foxworth drove them out of the Bronx and back home, Dodger swore he'd bury his anger issues for good. He'd prove Duke wrong. He was nothing like his old man.

All Well with the Gangs, Central Park, 1990

He and Mr. Foxworth were back in their mansion after the afternoon ballgame, so they spent some time eating and relaxing in the mansion. The ever-busy David Foxworth was now CEO of his company, since Mr. Pierce had retired, in addition to working his adoption shelter. But today, he'd taken off work to see a game with his dog.

"Ya should've seen them, kid! They hit a home run, knocked it out of tha park!" Dodger was eagerly recounting the game on the sofa. Oliver listened with open ears. "Yankees lost, but it was so close. Never seen a baseball game in person before."

"I'm glad you had fun." Oliver nuzzled his big brother, then hopped on the armrest. "I've been here with Adena all day. Our kittens will be born in a week or so."

"I still can't believe it. My little brother is gonna be a dad? No way."

"Honestly, I can't believe it either. I don't even know how it happened."

"I've told ya how it happens, kid. We've been over this."

Oliver blushed beneath his fur. "Not what I meant!" He was poised on the edge of the armrest, cleaning his face with his paw. "I just never expected to be a father at my age. I know I'm not a kitten anymore, but still… life happens so fast."

"It sure does." Dodger touched a paw to the golden nametag on his collar.

Their conversation came to an end when Mr. Foxworth and Jenny came into the living room, him holding two leashes. Mr. Foxworth attached one to Dodger's collar. "Come on, boy. Time to walk you and Nancy." Dodger was eager to go, unlike his Nancy babe.

They found her in a downstairs closet, curled up on some towels. Mr. Foxworth tried to put her leash on and bring her out, but Nancy resisted. "Won't you come with us, Goldie? Golden girl?" She whimpered. "Perhaps you can convince her, boy."

Dodger peeked in the closet. "This can't go on, babe. Ya gotta try to be happy."

"I'm sorry." Nancy's voice quivered. "I'm sorry I've been so depressing… but you don't understand. I carried them for two months. They were a part of me, and now… they're gone." She crawled out of the closet but made for the staircase. "Please go without me."

Nancy disappeared up the stairs before they could stop her. "I guess she just needs more time." Mr. Foxworth took his leash and led him out the front door.

The warm light of evening shone over the skyscrapers. Couples and shoppers, tourists and joggers filled Fifth Avenue. All around him, the city was alive. Dodger breathed in the fresh city air—a mix of engine exhaust and the scent of vendor food. The mansion was his home now, but Dodger would always love walking in New York City.

Mr. Foxworth led him across the street—using a walkway, not leaping across car tops—and through the entrance of Central Park. "I love living by the park, don't you, boy? Beautiful in the spring, summer, fall, and winter. Why, I'd say it's the nicest part of the city."

He sat down on a park bench and scratched Dodger's ears pleasantly.

Dodger had been to Central Park many times. He'd run here after the gang tried to rob them, and he was dognapped by the same mobsters threatening Fagin. He'd escaped his troubles with Nancy here on their romantic getaway. Mere months ago, he'd met with all the gangs in the North Woods. They agreed to work towards peace so another gang war would never happen.

"Don't go too far, okay?" Mr. Foxworth called. "I'll keep an eye on you."

He reclined on the bench, enjoying the park air while Dodger wandered off a little, his leash trailing behind him. Dodger didn't want to go too far from Mr. Foxworth, but at the same time, his ever-reliable nose had picked up some familiar scents.

Never one to ignore his sniffer, Dodger tracked the scents to a small clearing behind some bushes. He looked up and laughed. "Hey! What are ya guys doing here?"

Three gang leaders—Diablo the large black Labrador, Colt the brown Boxer, and Vance the shaggy St. Bernard—stood before him under the trees. He ran forward and bumped heads with all three of them. "I was just thinking about all of ya. Crazy, huh?"

"Sure is. We were just now heading to Fifth Avenue to chat with you, but then one of the Park Pack spotted you with your human," Vance explained, his tongue dripping with slobber, his white-and-brown coat messy, "so we met you here instead."

"What's tha problem, fellas? Not more trouble between gangs, is it?"

"No, no, todo esta bien. Everything is good." Diablo smiled wide, his black fur scruffy and caked with dirt. "Better than good, even. The gangs are all working together."

"It's like you said." Colt nodded respectfully, bowing his brown head. "If we don't start taking care of each other, we're all gonna die. When you said that, everyone listened."

"My Villagers will give shelter to any dog in Greenwich Village."

"The Hellhounds are protecting any perrito who needs help on the streets."

"And Central Park has enough vendor food and leftovers to feed a hundred and one Dalmatians." Colt stretched out, kicking up his hind leg to scratch his ear. Dodger cringed to see a scar on that leg, a souvenir of the war. Dodger had a few souvenirs of his own. "Not to mention more and more dogs are being taken to animal shelters," Colt continued, "and that's great. Any smart dog wants to be adopted. I'm sure you understand."

"I didn't always," Dodger admitted, suddenly very proud of his collar, "but now I wouldn't trade my family for anything." Feeling energetic, he playfully chased Diablo through the trees. Colt and Vance joined in, laughing, and tackled the others to the ground.

Dodger rolled free, grinning ear to ear. "Sounds like tha gangs are doing good. But what about tha Kings? They're not causing trouble for anyone, are they?"

"Actually, they're helping. They allow other dogs in the lower city with no fuss." Vance shrugged his massive shoulders. "Perhaps they want to make up for their wrongdoing."

"Then tha threat really is over. It sounds like they're finally peace."

"We wouldn't have it so good without you, Dodger." Diablo bumped heads with him, rubbing against him kindly. "You led the Refugees when their leader died. And if you hadn't united our gangs, we might've lost the war. What I'm trying to say, mi amigo… we're grateful. You saved all the street dogs in the city." Colt and Vance nodded in agreement.

"Nah, man. Ya helped saved yourselves by helping each other." Dodger touched noses with the three gang leaders, then explained that he had to return to his human. They understood. Diablo, Colt, and Vance disappeared into the woods.

"There you are, boy! I was getting worried." Mr. Foxworth put his book away and picked up Dodger's leash. "Look at you, all covered in grass and dirt. I suppose it can't be helped."

Mr. Foxworth walked Dodger back along the park trail, taking a shortcut through the grass, and out of Central Park. Dodger glanced behind him, thinking of what he'd just learned. The many gangs of the city were at peace, and that meant his work was truly done.

They returned to Fifth Avenue, the sun nearly gone behind the line of steel skyscrapers.

Nancy's Smile Comes Back, Fifth Avenue, 1990

Nancy was curled up in an armchair in the library. The chair was comfortable, and directly in the sunlight beneath an open window, so why couldn't she fall asleep? She tried for what felt like an hour, then Jenny came in the library for her piano lesson.

"Do you mind if I play for a little?" Jenny rubbed her back, and Nancy licked her hand. "Thanks! You can listen if you like." The girl sat down, opened her sheet music, and began.

In her ten years, Jennifer Foxworth had nearly mastered the piano, learned to use pastel, watercolor, and oil paints, and attended their Catholic Church regularly. She also read books well above her grade level, though she occasionally needed help with the longer words.

But it wasn't the horseback riding lessons in upstate New York or the cooking lessons with the famous French chef that ended Jenny's nightmares. Those hadn't stopped the flashes of Bill Sykes grabbing her, tying her to a chair, his Dobermans snapping their jaws.

Nancy knew it was having her parents in her life again that brought her smile back.

"Did you like it?" Jenny smiled wide at her. Nancy barked her applause. "Thank you!"

Jenny hopped off the piano bench and sat on the windowsill beside her. Nancy rested her head in the girl's lap. She was glad Jenny was happy again. Nancy wished she could be, too.

The library door swung open, and in walked Mr. Foxworth, beaming. "I knew that was you, Jen. Your mother plays piano, too, but between you and me, you play it better."

He scratched Nancy behind her long golden ears. "I'm sorry you've been so sad, girl. I know it's been hard." Mr. Foxworth picked her up from Jenny's lap and cradled her in his arms. "But we have a surprise that might cheer you up. Would you like to see?"

He set her down, and Nancy followed him out of the library and down the stairs, Jenny trailing behind them. When they came into the living room, she felt her heart stop.

"Mom! We've missed you!" and "Mother! Mother!" met her ears. Her four puppies were playing in the living room, as if they'd never left, only they'd grown in size. Boxer was the biggest and the brownest, Barbie had her father's white and brown fur, sweet Cass was golden like her, and the smallest pup, Annie, was grey, black, and brown-spotted.

"I've missed you, too! My goodness, what are you doing here?" Nancy gave them all a tight hug and licked their heads, then looked up. There were four different families in the Foxworth living room, most with kids, chatting with Mrs. Foxworth.

"Our new families brought us!" Barbie said, running back to a girl about Jenny's age.

"I live in Queens," Cass told her, smiling bashfully. "It's a nice neighborhood."

"My home is in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn! It's awesome!" Boxer barked.

Dodger hopped off the sofa, where he'd been sitting with Oliver, to lie down beside their littlest puppy. "What about ya, Annie? Where are ya living these days?"

"Oh, it's kind of far away. Way out on Long Island." Annie cuddled up in her father's arms. "But it's a nice place to live. It's this small town called Hicksville."

Nancy watched Dodger's eyes go wide at that name. He was quiet for a second, then smiled and shook his head. Dodger wrapped a paw around little Annie and licked the top of her head. "Well then, you definitely have tha right name."

Nancy and Dodger played with their pups for another hour. She was relieved to hear that they liked their new homes, and they were all loved. Everyone was in the living room—Jenny and her parents were with the pups' owners, Oliver and a very pregnant Adena on the sofa. Winston even brought Georgette out of her room, though she didn't seem happy about it.

They all played with the puppies, except Georgette, but none more than Nancy. "I can't believe how big you are!" She chased them her pups, suddenly full of energy. "I'm so glad to see you. But I know you have to leave soon, so I want you to promise me something."

The pups gathered round, open ears. Even Dodger was listening. "Promise you'll always find happiness in life. I've been lonely for so long. Your dad made it better, but still… I was sad. That's why I want you to look on the bright side of life no matter what, okay?"

They thought about her words and nodded. Nancy and Dodger played with them for a bit longer, then Winston prepared food for all the pets in the house—seven dogs and two cats, not counting the goldfish—and an afternoon meal for the pups' families.

And all too soon, their humans were putting her puppies back on leashes and leading them to the door. Dodger and Nancy nuzzled them all again, then they were gone.

"We know you've been sad ever since they left, golden girl," Mr. Foxworth said, kneeling down to pet Nancy's head, "so we arranged for their families to spend the afternoon here. Everyone was more than happy to come over."

Nancy licked his hand. Her smile had come back to her. That may well have been the last time she'd ever see her pups, but at least Nancy knew they had loving owners. And they'd promised to be happy. "I'm going to be happier from now on, too."

"Glad to hear it. Glad we got to see them again." Dodger's grin was disarming. They wandered down the hallway and snuck into Mr. Foxworth's private study. The door was left open a crack. Dodger hopped in his black leather chair, spun around, and put his paws on the desk. He suddenly frowned. "Do ya think I've got anger problems, babe?"

She had to pause for a moment. "I think you grew up in an angry city. You had it rough, and that gave you a bad temper. But you decided to take it easy, right? Why should you worry?"

Dodger leaned down and touched his black nose to hers. "You're why I worry."

She put her head underneath his muzzle. "You're not like your father. Duke is a terrible dog who was abusive to your mother. You've never hurt anyone like that."

"Except when I fought with Rita. An' when I tortured dogs to find Oliver. Oh yeah, an' when I ripped Razor's ear." He hung his head. "An' when I yelled at Oliver."

Nancy looked at the tear in Dodger's own ear. "So you were mean once. A lot has changed in a short time, and you're not angry like you used to be. I know you, love."

"I'd still be that mean, angry dog if it weren't for ya. I love ya, babe."

She didn't have to respond. Dodger already knew how she felt about him. The dogs sat in the private study for a few minutes longer, undisturbed, until the door creaked open again and Oliver rushed inside. He was frantic and completely out of breath.

"Dodger! Nancy! I've—I've been looking all over for you! You have to come at once, we didn't expect it, but—" Oliver paused mid-sentence, looking at them curiously. "You aren't supposed to be in here. None of us are allowed in his study."

"Yeah, yeah, he'll get over it. What are ya in such a hurry about, kid?"

"Oh, right!" Oliver mewed, suddenly remembering. "We didn't think it'd be today, but Adena was in the living room when she said—she said our kittens are coming!"

Nancy and Dodger exchanged a startled look and hurried out of the study.

Streets of Gold, Inner Brooklyn, 1990

Spring was coming to an end, and before long it'd be summertime. Though he'd wavered in the past, Fagin had put his drinking and gambling—and borrowing money from the Mafia—habits behind him. Now he never missed a mortgage payment.

Rita was currently relaxing in their new house. Stud and Kitten were play fighting in the backyard, and Francis and Tito were cuddled up together by the TV. She'd never expected them to bond over Bob Ross's paintings, but they were cute together.

Charl, of course, was stretched out on the couch. "What's on your mind, darling?"

"Not much." Rita walked over and licked his muzzle. "Just how far we've come."

"They owe it all to ya. You're an awesome leader—or president, rather."

"I mean you too, honey. Think of yourself now and where you used to be."

"Me? Ah, I'm nothing." Charl sat up, scratching his ear. "Never thought I'd have a home or a girl like ya. Thought I'd die alone in that subway station. A jerk like me deserved it."

"You, a jerk? I don't believe it." Rita ran to the closet, dug through a box, and came back with Charl's golden hip hop chain. She slid it around his neck. "No jerk looks this good."

They rubbed their muzzles together, ignoring everyone else in the room. Fagin coming in the front door startled them. From all the different scents on him, he'd just come from Foxworth Home. "Hey there, fellas! Boy, you wouldn't believe how the shelter looks. Mr. Foxworth did a total renovation! Says our grand opening will be on the Fourth of July."

Fagin checked their food and water, then looked at his watch—now he only had the one with Mickey Mouse. It was his favorite. "I think it's time to walk you sorry lot!"

He grabbed six leashes from his bedroom. "Let's see… Rita, Bates, Tito, Francis, now where are… Stud and Kitten! There you are! That's everyone. Let's get this show on the road."

Fagin led them out the door, which took a bit of maneuvering, but soon all six were outside. He walked them to the sidewalk, and they started around the block. They lived in a modest part of Brooklyn, and the other houses were similar to Fagin's. There were a few trees, and all the local dogs were nice—except for that awful Chow Chow three houses down.

"Fine day for a walk, right?" Fagin waved at a couple on the other side of the street. They were walking one dog, a dachshund, and giving him a funny look. It might've been the six leashes he was struggling to hold onto. They hesitantly waved back and hurried away.

"You can stop looking, sis." Stud was smiling smugly. "He's not out today."

"Who's not outside today?" Rita immediately whipped around. Kitten looked two seconds away from biting her brother, but Stud just laughed. "Oh, no one special. Just this boy named Finn she's completely in love with! He's a Bernese mountain dog. Very fancy."

Tito and Charl laughed, Francis looked intrigued, and Rita was fighting a smile off her face. "Is that right, Kitten? You'll have to bring this Finn to the house sometime."

Kitten looked like she'd rather jump off the Empire State Building. She turned on her brother, seething. "Oh yeah? Well, Stud has been sneaking out of the backyard to visit girls in the neighborhood!" Her brother suddenly became very small.

"Stud! That's very irresponsible of you!" Rita chastised him, not seeing that Charl was grinning at Stud behind her back. "We will talk about this when we get home."

The siblings glared at each other the rest of the walk. They were passing more affluent homes now, two-stories with fancier cars. Eventually, Tito got tired of walking and climbed on Francis's head. "You know, you don't actually get exercise that way," Rita laughed.

"Exercise is overrated. Frankie will still love me when I'm a fat Chihuahua."

"I should think it a tad hypocritical of me not to," Francis chuckled.

Tito slid down his back and rested his head on Francis's neck, humming "Buscando Guayaba." Fagin let him stay where he was. "Almost back to the house, fellas."

On the last leg of their walk, Rita and Charl drifted off to the side. They walked on the pavement, alone enough. "What are ya thinking about, baby? C'mon, you've got that look."

"Just this neighborhood. These homes and cars and lawns. It's so… nice. Everything is nice. And very different from the city streets." Rita saw a mother playing with her son across the street. An elderly couple was sitting on their porch. "But you know what? I love it."

It wasn't exactly busy Manhattan, but her gang was happy here. Fagin had turned his life around, Francis and Tito were happier than she'd ever seen them, and Stud and Kitten were looking for love. As for Rita, she had her stupidly cheesy, wisecracking, hip-hop-loving Charl. True, they'd never have pups, but that didn't stop Rita from having a family.

These streets were different, but in their own way, they were still streets of gold.

Why Should I Worry? Lower East Side, 1987

The night was warm for a change, proof that winter was finally ending. Dodger had never seen stars in the city, but the moon was always there. He used to howl to it growing up.

"Just look at ya. Big an' beautiful." Except Dodger wasn't talking to the moon. His eyes were fixed on the Manhattan skyline. From sitting on the splintery roof of Fagin's houseboat, Dodger had a perfect view of the cityscape above him. There was the Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State, the Twin Towers, the Chrysler, and so much more.

"I beat ya, New York." Dodger grinned proudly, head raised. "I survived everything ya threw at me. This pup ain't starving for a meal or sleeping in tha cold no more."

And it was true. Ever since the night that she had abandoned him, nearly a year and a half ago, he'd been fighting to survive. Dodger had fled from bigger dogs and scared off smaller ones, he'd stolen food and slept in cardboard, and he'd been so lonely. Angry and lonely.

But then he'd made a friend. "Oh, Charl… my brother. Hope you're okay, wherever ya are." Dodger was still angry, but he missed him, too. He wondered which he felt more strongly.

His time with the Scoundrels had been the best days of his young life. Dodger yearned to run the streets with his brothers, to flirt with girls, and to steal for the fun of it. To cause trouble for no good reason. Dodger hung his head, and his tears fell on the wooden roof. "I forgive ya, Charl. I hope we'll be friends again someday."

Everything had happened so fast after he left the Scoundrels. Going home with Fagin, meeting Rita, weathering the storm—it was all a blur. But here he was now, wearing the bandana Fagin gave him, wearing the name Fagin gave him. He had grown fond of the pitiful man.

But he was still crying. "C'mon, get it together… this is embarrassing." Dodger wiped at his eyes, but it didn't help how he felt. His mother, Charl, his whole life, it was too much.

"I hate this. I absitively posolutely hate this." Thinking of all he'd been through was the worst feeling in the world. Dodger never wanted to feel this way ever again. He never wanted to worry or care ever again. "Worrying has never helped. Neither has caring for anyone."

His ears perked up, and he stopped crying. "Why should I worry? Why should I care?" Dodger grinned, tail wagging. "I may not have a dime…" He looked at the New York skyline. "…but I've got street savoir faire! Ooh, that's catchy. Gotta make a song out of that."

Dodger curled up on the roof, not caring that the sun would be up soon. For now, he was content to watch the cars driving over the Brooklyn Bridge. Each car was one of his worries speeding away. A new chapter of his life, a new song, was coming with the dawn.

He hadn't slept all night, but Dodger decided to stay up to watch the sunrise.

Once Upon a Time in New York City, Fifth Avenue, 1990

The island of Manhattan was golden that morning, the skyscrapers of the lower city reflecting the sunlight. Through the fog in the air, one could make out the display of billboards above—everything from Coca-Cola to USA Today—and the traffic-filled streets below.

Further up the city, away from congested Downtown, were the fine shops and penthouses of Uptown. Bordering Central Park on the east was a fancy street known as Fifth Avenue.

Now, there were an awful lot of people walking up and down the avenue, but in front of the Foxworth mansion, people were stopping. "Go ahead, have a look at them!"

Mr. David Foxworth was standing by his front steps, his daughter Jenny beside him. Dodger was at his feet, and Oliver and Adena were on the steps. They stood around a large cardboard box with a sign, in Jenny's handwriting, reading "Kittens need homes."

Three small kittens were rolling around inside, mewing and pouncing on each other. The only boy was a ginger tom, orange all over with tabby stripes. The two girls were a calico with white, black, and orange, and a tortoiseshell with the same colors but muddied together.

"He looks just like you, Ollie," Adena said, nuzzling him and purring.

Oliver licked her cheek. "But our two girls have your colors."

A man with a little girl, who looked younger than Jenny, began talking with Mr. Foxworth. Once he'd learned the kittens had received all their shots already, he agreed to take one for his daughter. She chose the tortoiseshell girl.

Adena looked away as her kitten was adopted. Oliver nuzzled her. "Hey, it's okay. We wanted this for them, remember? They'll have the home we had to wait for."

"I know… but it's hard to say goodbye. I know I'll miss them." She'd spent twelve short weeks with them. Though they no longer drank her milk and were old enough to go home with a family, they were still her babies. She understood Nancy's sadness now.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a pampered poodle scoffing from the open window. Georgette was rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't be so sentimental. You can't get attached to people who won't stick around. Why, I've never regretted dumping a single boyfriend!"

Dodger whipped around. "That so, Champ? Then how come ya got pictures of your many, many boyfriends in that shrine ya call a bedroom?"

"She even has a picture of Tito now," Oliver chimed in. "Sometimes after Rex leaves, I'll peek inside and see her hugging his photo and crying, "Alonzo, I miss you. Alonzo, come back to me." It's honestly kind of disturbing."

"Lies! All of it, lies!" Georgette stormed off and they didn't see her again that day.

Another family had paused in front of the mansion, and while they were chatting with Mr. Foxworth, their son and daughter were playing with the kittens. After hearing they were free, the family walked away with the calico kitten.

Oliver and Adena watched their son chase his tail around the cardboard box. Looking at his little bro, Dodger knew exactly what was on his mind. He sat beside him on the steps. Dodger held out his paw for a high-five, but Oliver didn't play along.

"He's gonna get a home. Mr. Foxworth ain't leaving till he's adopted, too."

Oliver nodded. They stayed outside for what felt like an hour. Two hours. People came and went, some kids begging their parents for a kitty but were hurried along. Dodger could feel Oliver becoming more nervous with each passerby. Finally, someone stopped.

It was a Chinese woman in business attire with a young son. The boy happily picked up the orange kitten, shouting, "Tiger! Tiger!" until his mother made him be quiet. She explained that years ago, he'd wanted to take home a stray orange cat, but she hadn't let him.

"Then he's all yours." Mr. Foxworth shook her hand, gave her a card for Foxworth Home and the neutering services they offered, and the mother and son left with the last kitten.

Jenny and her dad brought the box inside, and Adena went in after them. Oliver started to follow her through the door, but noticed Dodger was still on the steps. He saw with him. Dodger was looking at the sky. "Is this really our lives now? Still can't believe it, kid."

"I'm a father to three kittens, and you're still calling me kid?"

"I'll call ya kid till my dying breath." Dodger laid back on the steps, and Oliver came over and curled up against him. "It's true though, ain't it? Everything has changed."

"You mean you and Nancy living with us now?" Oliver mewed.

"An' tha Company in a cozy house in Brooklyn. Rita an' Charl together, even Tito an' Frankie are a happy pair. Tha gang has come a long way since tha day I joined them."

"We've come a long way, too. Both of us fathers with a family who loves us."

"That's life though, things always changing. But ya know what, kid?" Dodger closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of the city, the music of taxi tires spinning and cars honking and people cursing and vendor food steaming. He heard his city most every day. He'd heard her since his puppy days, and he'd hear her till he was gone. "I'm happy they did."

Oliver nuzzled him, purring, and from the front steps, Dodger watched the city he loved living and breathing before his eyes. This was his happily ever after in New York City.