The ImPAWssible Mission

by Patricia Fry

  Sharon nodded. “I’ll leave my sweater on the chair to save it while we get our beverages.”

  “Good idea,” Savannah agreed.

  “So you’ve recently moved here to Hammond?” Savannah asked, once they were seated at the table. “From where?”

  “Oh…um…Utah,” Sharon said. “I left a bad relationship and decided to make a big change, so I came here.”

  Savannah cocked her head. “Why here? How did you end up in this small, hole-in-the-wall town?” When Sharon hesitated, Savannah added, “I think the only residents are those who grew up here or who broke down on their way to someplace else and decided to stay.”

  Sharon laughed. “Well, it was one of those deals where I just laid out a map and tossed a pebble. It landed pretty much here. So I came, liked it, and decided to stay, at least for a while.”

  “How long have you been here?” Savannah asked.

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “Well, you’re practically an old-timer, then,” Savannah joked. “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a writer and I love books and related curios—you know, those related to writing and reading…oh, and cats.”

  “Cats?” Savannah repeated brightly.

  “Yes. Don’t you think books and cats go together? Do you have cats? I think I saw a couple at your house when I used your phone that day, didn’t I?”

  “Most likely,” Savannah said. “We have three of them and a dog and a horse.” She smiled. “Do you have pets?”

  Sharon shook her head. “Not at this time. But…”

  Savannah leaned forward. “Well, I have just the recommendation for you.” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “In fact two…and maybe more.”

  “I’m listening,” Sharon said, smiling.

  “When you’re ready to adopt, my aunt and uncle run a cat shelter. They rescue, rehabilitate, and place cats and kittens. Also, my husband and I run a veterinary practice.” She winced. “Well, I’m a mommy now, but he’s the town’s top veterinarian.” She sat up straight when she said, “He was voted top vet five years in a row by the community. So when you need veterinary services, you’ll want to visit Ivey Veterinary Clinic.”

  “Thanks for the recommendations.”

  Savannah nodded and took a sip of her latte, then asked, “So what are you thinking, then? Will you open a bookstore?”

  “Probably not,” Sharon said. “I believe I’ll do better as a writer and I can’t fathom running a business and doing freelance writing at the same time. Maybe eventually, but not right away.”

  “What do you write about?” Savannah asked.

  Sharon smiled. “My favorite subject is cats. And, as you know, they seem to be taking over the Internet in their cuteness. Cozy mystery books featuring cats are skyrocketing in popularity. But I do more nonfiction writing—you know, the mundane, such as pieces introducing and reviewing new products, exploring what to feed your pet, identifying the different breeds, investigating health issues, reporting on unusual things cats do, and so forth. I also enjoy exploring scientific studies related to the similarities and differences between domestic and wild cats. Topics related to cats are infinite, don’t you think so?”

  “Absolutely,” Savannah agreed. She chuckled. “In fact, my aunt would make a good story for you, as would my friend Iris, who runs a bed-and-breakfast inn and has cuddle cats for the pleasure of her guests. I can also put you in touch with people who’ve been involved in some wild and crazy cat-rescue operations.”

  Sharon shuddered. “I’m getting goose bumps.”

  “Why?” Savannah asked. “Is there a draft where you’re sitting?”

  “No,” Sharon said. “It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve connected with in this town and already you’ve been a terrific resource.”

  “And we have something in common,” Savannah said. “I mean besides cats.”

  Sharon cocked her head. “Oh?”

  Appearing a little embarrassed, Savannah explained, “I’m doing some writing myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I’m writing my cat’s memoirs.”

  Sharon stared at Savannah for a moment, disbelieving, then asked, “You’re serious? Your cat’s memoirs?”

  Savannah nodded.

  “That’s just…” Sharon started. “Well, what a coincidence.” She leaned forward. “Do you have an agent or a publisher?”

  “Yes. I guess you might say I have an agent.” She chuckled. “He’s more my cat’s agent, though.”

  “So what makes your cat so unique?” She laughed. “I mean it seems that each cat is unique. What’s your cat’s exceptional quality or story? Does he—or is it a she—actually have an interesting life?”

  “Oh yes,” Savannah assured her. “He’s male. He’s been featured in a documentary and he stars in a series of children’s books. His…um…agent, Rob, is the one who suggested I write the book. He has a publisher who’s waiting for it.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing. Good for you. Do you know how hard it is to get an agent or a publisher these days? I mean a legitimate publisher?”

  Savannah thought for a moment before saying, “I guess I really don’t. I was kind of nudged into this situation.”

  “Well, you’re lucky.” Sharon took a sip of her frappè. “Most authors struggle to get published and many never make it or they go with one of those pay-to-publish outfits.” She looked at Savannah. “Are you enjoying the process—I mean the writing?”

  Savannah smiled. “I sure am. It was a little scary at first. I wasn’t sure I could write a cohesive book. But once I relaxed, I discovered that I really enjoy the work.” As if confiding in Sharon, she said, “However, I don’t know if I’d be able to do it if it weren’t for my mother. She lives with us now and helps a lot with the children.”

  “You have children?” Sharon asked.

  Savannah nodded. “Yes, our daughter will be three soon and our son is almost four months.”

  “Oh yes, I saw them when they came in with their art project the day my car broke down in your neighborhood. They’d been with your aunt and I think you introduced the other lady as your mother.”

  Savannah nodded. “That’s right.” She smiled. “Do you have children?”

  Sharon shook her head. “Never did get married. I was always too busy trying to make a living so I could afford to travel and go adventuring.”

  “Adventuring?”

  “Yes—you know, climbing mountains, skydiving, riding the rapids…” Sharon shivered again. “I love the thrill of it all.” She grimaced. “Well, I did until last year.”

  “What happened last year?” Savannah asked.

  “I had one accident too many and that put a little fear in me.” She chuckled. “It could also be that age played a role in my deciding to curb that side of myself. I’ll turn fifty-seven in December. Plus, I’m tired of working so hard, which means I’ll have to scale back a little on the fun. At least the expensive fun.” She smiled across the table at Savannah. “My plan is to live the quiet life here in this small town and support myself with my freelance writing.”

  “So you’re ready to settle down, are you?” Savannah asked. “Sounds like you’ve led a very active life.”

  “It appears so. And I’m sort of starting over now that I’ve broken it off with Christos.”

  “Christos?” Savannah questioned. “Is he Greek? That’s a Greek name, isn’t it?”

  Sharon nodded. “Yes, I met him in Greece, back in the nineties. I’d gone there to heal from another rough breakup.” She winced. “I probably shouldn’t have become involved so soon after Larry dumped me.” Sharon sat up straight and took a deep breath. “Enough about me. Tell me about you, Savannah. Have you always lived in Hammond?”

  “I was born here and went to grammar school here. My family moved to Los Angeles when I was a child. A few years ago—well, I guess it’s been five years now—I’d just finished veterinary schoo
l…”

  “So you’re a veterinarian, too? How cool.”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. Well, my aunt had broken her foot and I came here to help her out. One thing led to another and I met the local veterinarian, who swept me off my feet. We were married, have two children, as you know, and we’re living happily ever after.”

  “Storybook fairytale, huh? Good for you.” When there was a lull in the conversation, Sharon pulled out her phone. “Okay, I told you I needed a little help finding my way around the area.” She winked. “I know where to get a pet and veterinary care.”

  Savannah smiled and nodded. Her smile widened when Sharon asked, “What local doctor would you recommend?”

  “My sister, would you believe? She just took over a practice here in town. I’ll probably transfer to her this year, myself. I hear she’s very good at what she does. Her name’s Brianna Jordan and she’s on Crane Street—in the two-hundred block.”

  “Good. Where do you get your groceries?”

  “I like the market closest to our home, in the strip mall on the highway. Do you know where that is?”

  Sharon nodded. “I believe that’s the store closest to me, as well. Any other tips about the community?” She grinned. “What’s the best way to meet new people?”

  Savannah studied her tablemate for a moment. “Well, maybe you’d like to come to our next Hammond Cat Alliance meeting, since you like cats and you’ll be writing about them.”

  “Cat alliance?” Sharon repeated. “Sounds interesting. Tell me about it.”

  “Well, we take on projects that help cats—you know, for the betterment of feral and domestic cats—in hoarding situations and cat colonies, for example. We try to educate the public about the care of cats. It’s all about helping cats. The meeting’s at my house Thursday afternoon. Oh, that’s tomorrow, isn’t it? Can you make it?”

  “I’ll find a way to make it. Your members should be just the people I want to meet. What time is it? You say it’s at your house—where I stopped by to use the phone that day?”

  Savannah nodded. “It’s at two.” She looked at her watch. “Hey, I’d better get back. My mom has a meeting this afternoon and I want to give her time to get ready and all.”

  “Sure,” Sharon said. She stood up and reached her hand out to Savannah. “Thank you for being so welcoming. I really appreciate it. I hope we can become good friends.”

  “Oh,” Savannah said, feeling a little off kilter, “sure. Sounds good. Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She picked up her purse and walked out the door with Sharon when she noticed her friend Edie approaching with her daughter. “Hi, Edie,” she called out. She hugged her and acknowledged Gina. “How are you two?”

  “Good,” Edie said. “I’m just getting Gina out for a little break. It’s her birthday.”

  Gina leaned toward Savannah, as if sharing a secret. “At seven forty-three this evening, I’ll be thirty-five years old.”

  Savannah smiled. “Happy birthday! Yeah, a break from the daily grind with the kids is a nice gift.”

  “Yes it is,” Gina said, smiling.

  When she saw Gina and Edie looking at Sharon, Savannah, said, “Oh, excuse me. This is Sharon Summers. She writes about cats.” She addressed Edie, “She may be joining us tomorrow at the meeting.”

  “Sharon, this is Edie and her daughter Gina. Edie has the most beautiful cat.” She looked at Edie and asked, “How is Sally? She’s still doing okay, isn’t she?”

  Edie smiled broadly and nodded. “She’s wonderful.”

  More seriously, Savannah said to Sharon, “Poor little thing was catnapped and almost didn’t make it through the nasty ordeal.”

  Sharon frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. But she’s okay now?”

  “Yes,” Edie said, “thanks to people like Savannah and her husband, Doctor Mike.”

  Sharon smiled, then said, “Hey, I’d better go.” She acknowledged each of the women and walked away.

  “See you tomorrow,” Edie called out.

  Savannah quickly ended her visit with Edie and Gina and walked to her car. She had just settled into the driver’s seat when she heard a horn honk. She looked up and saw Sharon waving as she drove past in her small silver sedan.

  “Hmmm,” Savannah muttered. That’s like the car I saw stopped near the park last week when shots were fired. And I’m pretty sure a woman was driving it. She willed herself to stop being so paranoid, started her car, and drove off toward home.

  Chapter 2

  Thursday afternoon, Lily had just gone down for a nap and Teddy was content in his rocking swing when members of the Hammond Cat Alliance began to gather for the monthly meeting at the Ivey home. Margaret was among the first to arrive. She immediately picked up little Teddy and sat down with him. Others gravitated toward Margaret and the infant as they stepped into the house. In fact, Teddy was the center of attention. Members remarked, “Look how much he’s grown.”

  “He’s so cute.”

  “What a doll.”

  “Look at that smile.”

  “He sure resembles his big sister.”

  “Love those curls. I don’t know why parents cut off the baby curls.”

  “Seems like a happy baby. I adore happy babies.”

  Savannah felt her heart swell with pride and delight as she took in each comment. When she noticed that Sharon Summers had arrived, she approached her. “Hello. Come in. I’m glad you could make it. Would you like something to drink before the meeting starts?” When Sharon hesitated, Savannah coaxed, “Come on. I’ll show you to the refreshment table.”

  Before they could make their way into the dining room, Ida Stone, president of the alliance, approached them. She put one hand on Savannah’s arm and chuckled. “Do you…I mean, does your cat still have the original Meowster? I forgot to bring Meowster Two.”

  Savannah glanced at Sharon, who looked puzzled. “It’s a stuffed cat toy that meows,” she explained. “Ida uses it in place of a gavel.” She then said, “Oh, excuse me. Ida, this is Sharon. She’s interested in writing about cats and I invited her to join us today. Sharon, this is our president, Ida.”

  The two women shook hands. When Ida asked Sharon something about her writing, Savannah excused herself. “I’ll go see if I can find Meowster One.” When she returned from Rags’s stash upstairs with the slightly tattered chenille cat, she noticed that Ida and Sharon were deep in conversation. She handed the stuffed cat to Ida and walked into the living room to greet Nola, who had just arrived.

  “Hi, Nola. So glad you could make it. June didn’t come with you?” she asked.

  “No,” the twenty-seven-year-old said. “She really has to pick and choose her activities these days. She just doesn’t have the energy to do it all.” Nola leaned forward and said confidentially, “And boy, does that make her mad.”

  Savannah chuckled. “How old is she now?”

  “She’ll be ninety-two next month.”

  “Wow! She’s in good shape for someone that age.” She asked, “How are things at the Ragsdale Cat Ranch?”

  “Great!” Nola said. “Luke and I have more help these days. We have some wonderful employees and volunteers. Things are running smoothly.” She grinned. “The best thing is that we’re saving so many cats. Did you know that we’re working with a small company to make heated shelters for feral cats? Once we’ve covered this county, we’ll reach out to humane groups in other counties. And if that’s successful, we’d like to introduce this program to organizations and individuals in the East and Midwest where they experience really harsh winters.”

  Savannah swooned. “You and June are quite a team. I’m so glad you found each other. You’re doing wonderful work and saving so many cats. I’m just…well, I’m proud of you.”

  “It’s my passion, Savannah. I feel so fortunate to be able to do what I’m doing.”

  Just then, they heard a mechanical meow. Ida said, “Will the meeting come to order? Everyone please find a seat.”
>
  It didn’t take long for most of the members and guests to be seated. Sharon slipped into a wooden chair between Savannah and Iris. While the others were getting settled, Iris turned to Sharon and introduced herself.

  “Oh, Iris,” she said, “you run the bed-and-breakfast with cats in the rooms, right?”

  “Yes, cuddle cats for those guests who want them.” Iris tilted her head. “Has someone been talking about me?”

  “All good,” Sharon said. “In fact, I’d love to visit your inn and meet the cats.” She paused, then explained, “I’m a writer. I think your…um…cuddle cats would make a great story.”

  “Oh, okay,” Iris said, smiling.

  Upon hearing this, Janice Tuttle, who had just sat down on the other side of Iris peered around at Sharon and asked, “You’re a writer?”

  Sharon nodded and smiled. “I’ve been commissioned by a couple of bloggers to write a series of articles of interest to cat lovers. Are you a cat person?” she asked. Then, appearing slightly embarrassed, she reasoned, “I guess you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

  “Janice helped us with a difficult colony a couple of years ago,” Savannah explained. “She has some of the most beautiful Angora cats.”

  “Persian?” Sharon asked.

  “No,” Janice said. “Angora. They’re a whole different breed than the Persian.”

  Sharon tilted her head. “Now that sounds like a story in itself.”

  “More so than you know,” Janice responded. “There’s a lot of debate and mystery around the beginnings of these two breeds and their relationship to each other. Since the Persian seems to have lost its phylogeographical signature over the ages, the speculations have gone wild.” When Ida squeezed the toy cat again, Janice said quietly, “I’ll explain later—that is, if you’re interested.”

  Savannah, having overheard the conversation thought, Wow, I’d like to hear about that. Phylogeographical signature, huh? Fascinating. I wonder if I could be in on that interview. She stared at Sharon for a moment. Although she doesn’t seem very interested in the topic.