Furever Friends

by Patricia Fry

  Savannah stopped to catch a glimpse of what he was chasing. She was taken aback when she saw an orange streak run past her and dart under a sofa in the lobby. “It’s just a kitten,” she said. “He’s under that couch.”

  “I told you that thing wouldn’t fit him,” the woman said from across the room.

  Ignoring her, and with Michael’s and Andrew’s help, Savannah caught the frightened kitten, held it to her, and glanced around, hoping to see someone who was looking for it. “Where’d this little guy come from?” she asked. No one in the vicinity seemed to recognize the kitten, although a few women walked up and petted the little thing. Savannah asked, “Eileen, is this the one someone reported missing?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find out.” She faced Savannah. “So your cat is still at large? A big cat, right—not a baby one?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes large, and grey and white.”

  “Marmalade!” someone shouted from across the room. Savannah looked up and saw a young woman approaching. She ran her hand over the kitten. “That’s Marmalade; where was she?”

  “In the kitchen helping the chef,” Savannah explained. “Is she yours?”

  “She’s here with a rescue shelter. They’re hoping to find a home for her and a bunch of other kittens and cats this weekend. Marmalade keeps escaping from the little pen.”

  “Well, she sure is a cutie.” While handing her over to the woman, Savannah read her name tag. “Say, Kelsey, you haven’t seen a large grey-and-white cat roaming around, have you?”

  Kelsey’s eyes widened. “Yes!” she said. “Is he yours?” When she saw Savannah’s face light up, she pointed. “He’s in there with the kittens. They love him. They think he’s their grandpa or something.”

  “What?” Savannah asked. “Oh, that doesn’t sound like Rags.”

  “Well,” Kelsey said, “he’s big, and he’s grey and white. Sounds like your cat, right? How’d he get away?”

  Savannah glanced at Andrew and Michael. “Long story. Where is this cat you’re talking about?”

  The young woman motioned to the left, saying, “Come on, you’ve gotta see this.” She giggled. “Get your camera ready.”

  Savannah followed Kelsey and so did Michael, Andrew, and Eileen.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Michael muttered upon entering another lobby area, where several shelter cats and kittens were on display in a collection of portable enclosures.

  “That’s your cat?” Andrew asked. “What is he, a therapy cat for orphaned kittens?” He chuckled. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve seen all week.”

  “Rags, I can’t believe you,” Savannah crooned. She pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures, then she recorded a video. “Rob will get a kick out of this, and Adam, and Auntie, and Lily. Oh my gosh, it just might go viral.”

  “You mean he’s never done this before?” another woman asked. “Why, he’s a natural.”

  A man wearing a polo shirt with a cat-shelter logo called out, “Hey, did you call him Rags? That isn’t the Rags that works with the police department and all, is it?”

  “One and the same,” Michael said, grinning down at Rags, who lay in a pen allowing six kittens to climb and tumble all over him. When a fluffy cream-and-buff kitten batted at Rags’s ear, he gently pushed the kitten down with a paw and licked him a couple of times.

  Savannah approached the pen and petted some of the kittens. “Gads, they’re adorable,” she squealed. She put her hand under Rags’s chin and looked into his eyes. “I’m afraid your play time’s over, buddy. Come on, Rags, let’s take you back to your pen. We’re going out to eat.”

  “Can’t he stay?” Kelsey asked.

  “Yeah,” another woman said, “we’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Savannah surveyed the situation. “I really don’t believe it would be a good idea. You think little Marmalade’s an escape artist—well, Rags is the worst. You can’t imagine some of the places we’ve found him.”

  “And some of the places he’s escaped from,” Michael added.

  “At least you always find him,” one woman said. When the others looked at her, she explained, “Sometimes you don’t get your cat back.”

  “True,” Savannah said. “And I don’t want to chance that happening with Rags.” She smiled at the sea of eager faces. “How about if I bring him down later to play with the kittens. I can do that.”

  “Okay, that would be great,” the woman in charge said. “Thank you.”

  Savannah lifted him from the little pen and strapped his harness on him. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him this afternoon.”

  “He’s a beautiful cat,” Eileen said. “Is he a special breed?”

  Savannah shook her head. “Well, we do know that he’s part ragdoll, but beyond that we don’t have a clue.”

  “Hey,” one of the shelter women said, “there’s a DNA test now that you can use to find out your cat’s heritage. You ought to send away for it.”

  “That could be interesting,” Savannah said. She tugged on the leash. When Rags began walking along with her, she led the others back into the main lobby. “Shall I meet you in the restaurant?” she asked before walking toward the elevator.

  “That would be fine,” Andrew said. He pointed. “It’s over in the south corner. See the sign there?”

  ****

  “The books haven’t arrived,” Savannah said when she caught up with the others in the restaurant. “I checked at the desk and they’re not here.”

  “Books?” Eileen inquired.

  “My publisher was supposed to ship copies of Rags’s books here for the book signing tomorrow.”

  Andrew burst out laughing. “He’s a therapy cat for kittens and he’s an author? What else does he do, archery, barrel racing, pole dancing?”

  The others laughed at the visions and Savannah said, “Well, he does ride a horse occasionally and he autographs his books.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Andrew asked suspiciously.

  “No, if we get the books by tomorrow, you can come to the cat show and see him do it.”

  “Are the books in bookstores?” Eileen asked.

  Savannah nodded.

  “If they don’t get here in time,” she suggested, “maybe I can gather some up from local bookstores for you to sell here. A friend of mine is manager at one of the larger bookstores downtown. When your shipment arrives, we can distribute them to the bookstores to replenish their stock.”

  Savannah looked stunned for a moment. “Gosh, that’s a lot to ask.”

  Ignoring her, Eileen suggested, “Call your publisher and see if they sent them. Ask him to track the shipment and find out where the hold-up is. We’ll go from there.”

  “Okay,” Savannah agreed. She placed a call to Rob. “Hey, did you get the video I sent?”

  “Yes, that’s hysterical. I sent it to the author for the children’s books and put it on Rags’s Facebook page. Was it for real?”

  “Absolutely for real. He escaped and we found him having the most delightful time with that litter of adorable kittens.”

  “Amazing. So what’s up, are you having a good time?” Rob asked.

  “Yes, are you coming out here?” She glanced around. “It’s a beautiful place and there are lots of cats.”

  “I’ll probably fly over tomorrow. What time’s your speech?”

  “Just after lunch. Listen, Rob, I wanted to let you know the books aren’t here. Did they get shipped?”

  Eileen suddenly had a thought. “Maybe they’re here, but were put in the wrong place.” She jumped up from her chair. “I’ll go check on that.”

  Meanwhile, Rob shouted, “What? They aren’t there? They should have arrived two days ago.”

  “Well, the manager just went to check another area where they might have been stored. But yeah, as far as we know they’re not here.”

  “Dang. Well, let me track them.”

 
“Okay. Hey, also, if the publisher can tell you which bookstores in this area carry the books, and if the shipment doesn’t arrive, we might have another solution.” When Rob remained silent, she explained, “We can get books from local bookstores to sell tomorrow and repay them with the books from the shipment whenever it arrives.”

  Rob paused. “Yes. That sounds like a possible solution. I do like industrious people. Hey, let me see what I can find out on this end. I’ll call you.” And he did about ten minutes later, saying, “The books are stuck in Tucson; why, we do not know. But we hired a driver to bring them to you. You’ll have them by morning. So the signing’s tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Yes, I speak at one. I have books for that—you know, to display. I’m scheduled to sign books at the cat show at two thirty.”

  “Okay.”

  “How’d you get the US Postal service—or was it UPS to release a package midstream?” she asked.

  “It’s called string-pulling. Someone knows someone who knows someone, I guess. And they screwed up. So we actually hired one of their couriers, and we’ll put a claim in to have the postal service pay for it.” He chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry your little head about the behind-the-scenes stuff. You go have a good time and make us proud, will ya?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Rob.” When she ended the call, the others were looking at her anxiously. “I guess the package is stuck in Tucson, so the publisher hired a private courier. The books will arrive here in the morning.”

  By then Eileen had returned. Upon hearing this, she said, “Good. I’ll talk to the mail-room personnel and have them watch for your package. Where do you want it delivered?”

  Savannah smiled. “Oh, how nice. To our room, I guess. We can take them down to the cat show.”

  “Where will the cat be?” Eileen asked.

  “With me at the talk, then with me at the signing,” Savannah said.

  Eileen relaxed. “Oh good, so no worries about him sneaking out when the books are delivered.”

  “With Rags, there’s always something to worry about,” Michael said under his breath.

  “Oh, don’t exaggerate.” Andrew said.

  “That’s not an exaggeration, is it, Savannah?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she agreed.

  Andrew bumped Eileen with his shoulder. “And you’re allowing him to stay in your hotel? Do you have enough liability insurance?”

  Eileen looked cautiously at Savannah, then Michael.

  ****

  “What do you want to do now?” Michael asked when the couple returned to their room after dinner. “We have an hour before the drinking party.”

  She huffed, “It’s not a drinking party. It’s the kickoff for the event—a social hour.” She tilted her head. “Didn’t Andrew want to go with us?”

  “No. I think he and Eileen have plans.” He asked, “So what’s the deal with this party tonight?”

  “Kat told me they’ll have a display of photos from past conferences. I want to see those. It’s mainly an opportunity to meet some of the other members—a get-acquainted gathering. I notice that a lot of the people already know each other. I saw groups of women and a few men huddled together and talking down in the lobby. I feel like kind of the odd woman out.” She thought of something. “Hey, I told the shelter gals I’d try to bring Rags back down after dinner to entertain the kittens. Why don’t we do that? He can play for a while, then we can bring him up to the room and go to the party.”

  “Sounds good,” he said. He picked up Rags’s harness and unlatched his pen. “Come on, Rags, let’s go play with the kittens.”

  As they walked through the lobby toward the kittens, they heard, “Michael? Michael Ivey?”

  Michael turned and found himself looking into the eyes of a stranger. “Yes,” he said, “I’m Michael Ivey.” He studied the man’s smiling face and asked, “Do I know you?”

  “Well you should,” he said, “I’m the one who helped you ace your last semester in high school.” When Michael still appeared bewildered, the man took out his wallet and said, “Here, maybe this will help. I carry this picture to remind me of where I don’t ever want to go again.”

  “Doug!” Michael said upon seeing the photo. “Doug Smith.” Michael looked at the picture again, then at Doug. “Wow! What a transformation. What did you do, join one of those weight-loss programs?”

  Doug nodded. “That, and I joined a gym, I started biking, I do triathlons. Can you believe it?”

  Michael shook his head. He offered his hand, “Well, congratulations, man. You look great…and healthy.”

  “I know. It’s a whole new me and that goes for the inside too.” He pointed at himself. “You can’t make this much of a change and continue to be the same person.”

  Michael chuckled. “So who are you now, Doug?”

  “Well, I can tell you I lead a very different life than when we were in high school and college.” Doug smiled provocatively at Savannah. “And who is this lovely lady, Michael? Tell me she’s your sister, will you?”

  “Not a chance, Dougie boy,” Michael said with pride. “This is my wife, Savannah—the mother of my children.”

  Doug grimaced. “Awww Mikey, you dog, you. And I suppose you’re a successful veterinarian by now, right?”

  Michael grinned. “Right!”

  Doug glanced around the lobby. “So what are you doing here? Do you live in Arizona?”

  “No, just visiting. Savannah is speaking tomorrow at the cat conference,” Michael explained. “And you? Which of your top three dream professions did you pick—let’s see, it was travel guide to exotic places, racquetball star, or…”

  Before Michael could finish, something caught Doug’s eye. “Hello, Cynthia,” he greeted graciously. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, ran his eyes up and down her sinewy body, and said, “This is my date, Cynthia.” He nodded toward the Iveys. “Cynthia, meet an old friend of mine, Michael, and his wife, Savannah.” He turned to her. “Michael’s a doctor.”

  “A veterinarian,” Michael said, shaking the woman’s limp hand.

  Savannah smiled and nodded. “Nice to meet you.” When she became aware that Rags was tugging on the leash, she reached down and lifted him into her arms.

  “Oh, it’s a cat!” Cynthia exclaimed. “I saw a bunch of cats in here last night. Why is that? Someone said it’s a cat convention.” She tilted her head. “I still don’t get it. What do cats have to discuss with each other?” she asked innocently.

  Doug quickly took Cynthia’s arm. “Hey, we’d better go. Charles is holding our table for us.” He grinned widely. “Good to see you.” He patted Michael’s upper arm. “Looking good, guy.” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Savannah.” He started to walk away, but turned and said quietly to Michael, “I actually got my first wish. I’m a professional escort.”

  “Yeah, that’s about right,” Michael muttered after watching Doug and Cynthia walk away. When Savannah seemed interested in hearing more, he added, “He always was infatuated with plastic women.”

  “Plastic women?” Savannah repeated.

  “Yeah, you know, the Barbie dolls, glamour babes, overly made-up women.” He shrugged. “Must have been a self-esteem thing. He was obese back in the day. He sort of stuck out in a crowd, but not in the way he wanted to. Now, with his new physique and a flashy woman on his arm…” Michael shook his head and muttered, “Lordy, lordy.”

  Savannah thought about Doug and Cynthia and Michael’s revelation for a moment, then said, “Hey, let’s go get some kitten-love, shall we, Ragsie?”

  As if he understood, the cat trotted off in the direction of the kitten area, but there wasn’t a kitten in sight. “Uh-oh,” Savannah said. She asked a man who was restocking a nearby exhibit. “Where are the kittens?”

  He nodded to the right. “In the playroom. They stay in the room at night and when we think they need a break.” He glanced at Rags. “Oh, he’s the cat that was playing with them earlier, isn’t h
e? Yeah, they’re right around the corner there—room one twelve.”

  “Thanks,” Savannah said. She tugged on Rags’s leash. “Come on. The kittens have moved. Let’s go see their playroom, shall we?”

  When they arrived at the door, Rags leaped over the temporary baby gate. Savannah let go of the leash and he trotted to where a group of kittens played in a plush kitty condo.

  “Look,” Kelsey said, “Rags is back. Oh, the little ones will love seeing him.” She addressed Savannah and Michael. “Thank you for bringing him.”

  Savannah caught up to Rags and removed the harness.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Michael warned.

  “Yes. I don’t want the harness to frighten the kittens. Anyway, he’ll be more comfortable playing without it.”

  After a while, almost all of the volunteers had their phone cameras out and were snapping pictures of Rags frolicking with the kittens. In fact, the laughter had attracted many others, who stood at the door chuckling at the antics of the clumsy kittens using Rags as a furry jungle gym.

  “He has the patience of a…a…well, a doting grandfather,” an elderly man said.

  “Molasses on a cold day,” a woman said chuckling.

  “Is he always this calm and patient?” one of the volunteers asked.

  Michael couldn’t contain himself. He blurted, “I’m afraid patience is not one of his virtues.” When the others looked at him quizzically, he shook his head. “I don’t know who that cat is, but that’s not the Rags I know.”

  Savannah grinned at him. “Rags is multifaceted, Michael. He has many layers. Today he’s revealing his feminine side.” She winked at the elderly gentleman. “Or maybe that is his wannabe grandfather side.”

  Just then Kat stepped into the room and started taking pictures. “Oh…oh…oh,” she said, excitedly, “that is just too cute.” Without thinking, she blurted, “This will surely go viral on the Internet.” When she realized that Savannah was staring at her, she backpedaled. “Oh…well, I mean…” She pocketed her phone and smiled. “Hey, I came in to tell you all that the buffet has been set up in the meeting room. Come mingle and have a glass of wine. I’ll show these pictures of the kittens around and maybe generate some interest in them.” She looked at Savannah. “Are you coming? Bring Rags, if you want to.”