Myka's story- part4

Morgan was out walking through the shopping kiosks. He was getting dinner for Myka who lay resting at home; at least, that was what he hoped. As he walked, women would glance at him and would blush or giggle among friends. Morgan was a handsome man in general. He had a strong build and a broad jaw line. He looked about in his thirty’s and what the women liked the most was that he wore no engagement ring. Of course, Morgan was more than thirty years; he lost count after one hundred.

The women constantly pestered him.  They asked what his name was, what was his number- this he actually had no idea what it meant, where he lived, etc. He was a nice and gentle man. Morgan would just tell them nicely that he had no time and that he needed to get to his daughter. When he would say daughter, most of the women backed up and excused themselves for bothering him. Technically, he never had a daughter but he loved his little Myka like one and no one would take his attention from her.

He made his way to the apartment that he rented a couple days ago. The apartments were decent. Nothing too grand and nothing too rundown; everything was just right in this apartment complex, not to mention it was right in his price range. Morgan pulled out the keys to the apartment door and opened it. He looked inside and sees Myka limping over excitedly, her tail wagging. She wore a little cute cast on her paw where she was injured a week ago.

“Mogan!” Myka barked excitedly. “Food? Food??”

Morgan chuckled and swooped up the little pup in his arms. “Yes, I brought food,” he smiled, walking over to the kitchen. He placed Myka down on the counter and let her scamper around for a bit. “We’re having chicken.”

“Chickun~” Myka wagged her little tail as Morgan opened the meat package. She wanted to eat the meat but Morgan tapped her nose to say no. She pouted and sat her butt down on the counter and watched Morgan season the meat.

“See, Myka,” Morgan started as he finished preparing the meat. “Meat could have many, many diseases in it.” He placed the meat in the frying pan and started cooking. “When one is human, you have a higher risk of contracting these diseases so we have to cook them thoroughly…”

“Oooh,” Myka mumbled, gnawing at her little cast. “So Mogan has to be extra cahful with meat.”

“Exactly,” he smiled and scratched her head. “Maybe you might have a human form as well some day.”

A little toot resonated through the counter top and Morgan looked over at Myka. “Myka… Not on the table.”

“I sorry,” Myka said, fanning the smell with her little tail.

“Don’t fan it!” Morgan exclaimed, fanning his own face to try and ward off the stench. “I don’t want to smell it!” Myka only giggled and covered her face with her paws. Morgan sighed and shook his head. What was he going to do with his little tooting Myka?