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Coconut was in the living room. He was at his water bowl in the kitchen. He was on the sofa. The top of the pet stairs next to the toilet. The kitchen again. His bed.

His bed. So soft, yet so resilient against his needy thrusting, its satisfying plushness reminded him of his mistress—her ample chest, her soft belly, her elusive inner thigh...

Coconut orgasmed quickly and explosively. Slumping forward in ecstatic shock, he felt his soul ejecting from his body in a billion pearly fragments.

He lay there for several hours, drifting in and out of disoriented sleep, until stirred by the sound of Lise screaming.