Whiskerful Thinking

by Patricia Fry

  "Why?" Selene asked, staring down at Rags. "How?"

  Savannah shrugged. "We don't know. What Rags does might not actually be unique. It could be that cats have abilities they display every day, but that go unnoticed. Maybe we're unaware of the meaning behind some of our cats' actions, or we just don't pay attention when they're trying to tell us something. Maybe Rags is just more in-your-face than most cats, and he gets noticed. He has certainly taught us to pay closer attention to him. I believe it takes an aware handler to recognize when a cat is trying to relay a message. Know what I mean? Most cats are treated like…well, like ordinary cats, because their person doesn't expect or recognize anything beyond that." She glanced at Selene, then Greg. "I've had cats all my life and, as I said, I graduated from veterinary school and practiced for a few years. Like most, I'm programmed to think of a cat as a cat. So even I am often astounded by the things Rags does and the trouble he gets into."

  "He gets into trouble?" Greg asked, amused.

  "Oh yes," Michael said.

  "But I think it comes with the territory," Savannah suggested. When the others waited for more she explained, "A precocious cat that has some sort of insight and crazy instincts like he seems to have is bound to find himself in trouble sometimes."

  "Sometimes?" Michael repeated. "Like every time we turn around."

  Selene stared at Michael, then down at Rags, who was lying on his back; with his paws in the air, watching Teddy play from upside down. She laughed, then asked, "How's the injured cat?"

  "She has a broken leg," Savannah said. She gestured toward her husband. "Michael treated her."

  He frowned. "Yeah. I think she was attacked by a coyote or a dog maybe…"

  "Rags got an owey," Lily chimed in, wide-eyed.

  "He did?" Selene asked.

  Michael smiled at his daughter, then explained, "There was evidence that Rags may have dug his claws into the attacker. One of his claws had been ripped pretty badly."

  "Oh my gosh," Selene said. "So you think that's how the injured cat escaped with her life?"

  "Could be," Michael said. He looked at Greg. "I see you're recording. I'd like to ask that you don't air anything that shows the children."

  "I'll edit carefully. I can also block their faces. No problem," Greg said.

  Savannah stood up. "I'll ask my mother to entertain the kids for a while, then you won't have to worry about working around them."

  Once the children were out of the room, Greg continued filming and Selene asked more questions until Greg shouted, "Oh!"

  The others looked at him and everyone began to laugh when they saw Rags standing on the back of a chair staring into the lens of Greg's camera.

  "That was startling," Greg said, laughing. "I scrunched back into this corner to do some panning and all of a sudden I see a big cat eye looking back at me. Freaky," he said. He lowered the camera and looked at Rags. "I'd like to get some shots of him in action."

  "What would you like him to do?" Michael asked. "I can tell you he doesn't take stage direction very well."

  Savannah laughed. "Yeah, he and I were in a play a few months ago and Michael's right; he didn't always do what he was supposed to. One night he leaped into the audience and crawled over the seats and the people until he reached where Michael and the kids were sitting."

  Selene and Greg laughed. He said, "Man, you could make a fortune on YouTube if you just followed him around with a camera." He stared down at Rags and asked, "What would make for an interesting human-interest shot—something most people have never seen before or they never thought a cat would do? Maybe have your little boy pull him in the wagon?"

  Michael looked at Savannah. "How about a picture of him with Peaches?"

  "He eats peaches?" Selene asked.

  Savannah chuckled. "Peaches is my mare."

  Michael tilted his head. "Did Bonnie bring the horses back?"

  Savannah nodded. "Is there enough daylight to film outside?"

  "Yeah," Greg said. "So what does he do with the horse, hang out in the feed bin while she eats hay? That would be a cute shot. Or does he sit on the fence railing looking at her?"

  "He rides her around sometimes," Savannah said.

  "What?" Selene squealed. "The cat rides the horse and the horse lets him?"

  Savannah nodded. "Sometimes he rides with me. He'll sit in the saddle with me, but usually I ride with him in a backpack or in a duffle-bag-type carrier."

  Greg grinned. "This I gotta see. Do you mind?"

  "Let me get his harness," Savannah said, walking toward the kitchen.

  "He wears a harness?" Selene asked, shaking her head.

  "Now remember he's a cat," Savannah said, as the four of them walked out to the corrals with Rags. "He may or may not be willing to do what we want him to do."

  "Thanks for the warning," Greg said. As they approached Peaches's corral, he declared, "Nice looking mare."

  Savannah smiled. "She was a wedding gift from Michael." She faced him. "Now, what do you want Rags to do?"

  Before Greg could respond, Rags leaped up onto the top railing of the corral. Peaches nickered and trotted up to him, snorting and nodding her head up and down. Rags walked back and forth on the railing, butting Peaches with his head whenever she'd give him the chance.

  "This is great stuff," Greg said, filming. He became even more excited when Peaches seemed to be sniffing Rags, who put his paws on each side of her face, stood up, and began licking her forelock.

  When Rags climbed up onto the horse's head and lay between her ears Michael shouted, "Whoa! Now that, I've never seen." He laughed. "Rags, you look like a helmet."

  Selene laughed uncontrollably. "It doesn't get much better than this. Look at that! Oops," she yelped when Peaches nodded a couple of times. "He has good balance, doesn't he?"

  "He seems to," Savannah agreed. She cringed. "Peaches, you'd better be careful; remember he has claws."

  Rags suddenly became more alert. He slid down Peaches's neck onto her back and stood up, staring down at something on the ground.

  "What's got him riled?" Michael asked, looking around.

  "I don't know," Savannah said.

  Rags leaped to the ground, stood on his back feet in front of Peaches, and began growling at her. Peaches looked down at him and tossed her head a few times.

  "She thinks he's playing," Savannah said, "but I don't think he is." She frowned. "Michael, something's wrong." When Rags leaped toward Peaches and snagged her with his claws, she reared a little and stepped back. Then Rags ran to the other side of the corral and stared down at something in the grass. He looked at Michael, then back at the ground.

  "Go see what he's worried about, hon," Savannah insisted.

  Michael glanced at her, then slipped into the corral and walked to where Rags stood. "Good lord," he said, quickly picking up the cat. He handed Rags to Savannah and grabbed a shovel. "It's a rattler. I didn't even hear it, did you?"

  Savannah shook her head. "I don't think it rattled." She looked to the others for verification and saw them both backing away from the corral, wide-eyed. Greg continued to film.

  Moments later, when Michael caught up to the others, he said, "I hated to do that, but we can't allow our animals or our kids to be in danger."

  Selene stared at Rags. "Oh my gosh, that cat was trying to protect the horse from a rattlesnake?"

  "It seems so," Michael said.

  "You're so nonchalant about it," she said, "like this happens all the time."

  Michael looked at Savannah. "Well, I can't say that, but as Savannah told you, we are accustomed to him doing some pretty bizarre and unexpected things." He gestured toward Gypsy. "A while back he stood up to the other horse there when he seemed to think she might step on our son, who had gone into the corral to retrieve a toy."

  Savannah winced. "Yeah, that was a heart-stopper, for sure."

  "I imagine," Selene said. "As I said, I don't have a cat, but I do have small children. What happened, exactly?"

>   "Like Michael said, our son evidently dropped or threw his shovel into the corral with Gypsy, and Rags seemed to think the mare was going to hurt Teddy. By the time we got out here, Rags was between Teddy and Gypsy standing as tall as he could make himself, attempting to keep the mare at bay. Gypsy didn't seem to know what was going on and she was upset, so it was a pretty frightening moment until both Teddy and Rags were safely outside the corral."

  Greg patted Gypsy on the neck, then walked away with the others. He said, "Well, Selene, this turned out to be a bigger story than we expected, don't you think so?"

  She nodded, looked in the direction of the snake, and shuddered. "Yeah. Are you sure this cat's not part dog or something?"

  Michael and Savannah laughed. He asked, "So you think dogs are smarter than cats?"

  Appearing a little sheepish, Selene admitted, "Some dogs, maybe."

  "Will you be using some of what you got?" Savannah asked. "When will it air?"

  "Oh, I'm certain our production manager will want to use quite a bit of this material," Greg said. "It's rich…really rich." He thought for a moment and said more seriously, "I'd like to create a documentary featuring that cat. Just what we saw today is a darn good start."

  "Been there, done that," Michael quipped.

  "Huh? There's a documentary on him?"

  "Yes, Rob Willoughby brought a film crew out here a few years ago," Savannah explained. "There are also some children's books featuring Rags."

  "Rob Willoughby?" Greg repeated. "I know him. He lives in LA, right? I worked with him on a couple of films years ago, but they weren't about animals. When did he start doing stuff about animals?"

  "I guess when he met Rags," Savannah said. She faced him. "It was his kitten that Rags saved yesterday."

  "No kidding?" Greg said.

  "Yes, he and his fiancé were here with their cats to meet another author who wants to write about his adventuring cat." She added, "You might be familiar with the story about the young men who were trapped underground last week. You know, Rags is the one who found them."

  "What?" Greg said. He petted Rags's head as the cat rode quietly in Savannah's arms. "Unbelievable." He thought for a moment and said, "Well, I might just contact Rob and see if he wants to do another documentary. It would be awesome to work with him on another one." He grinned. "I can see it would be a real trip hanging around this cat for a while."

  "Oh, he can be quite dull at times," Michael said. "Right, Savannah?"

  "Yes, thank heavens," she joked. "I think I enjoy his down time as much or maybe more than when he's being all uncat-like. It can get crazy."

  "Well, this has been interesting," Selene said, looking at her watch. "We really should get back and see what we have. I believe they'll want this for the morning show."

  "Yeah, but I bet they'll run it in prime time, too. It's just too juicy," Greg said. He held out his hand. "Thank you so much for letting us intrude on your family."

  "Nice to have you. Rags always appreciates an audience," Michael said, shaking Greg's hand.

  Greg bowed slightly toward Savannah, then ruffled the fur on Rags's head. "Very nice meeting all of you."

  "Yes," Selene said, shaking Savannah's hand, then Michael's. She held up the book Savannah had given her. "I imagine sales will soar once we air his story."

  "And a few people might come out of the woodwork," Greg said.

  "Why?" she asked.

  "To exploit him, get a glimpse of him, video him for their YouTube account—things like that."

  "Let's hope not," Savannah said. "We have enough excitement around here without adding to it."

  Chapter Four

  The following morning Savannah and the children were working on a craft project in the kitchen when Gladys joined them. "What're you making?" she asked.

  "Do you mean besides a mess?" Savannah quipped.

  Gladys smiled. "Well, Lilliana, that looks like a card. It's beautiful with all those sparkles and hearts."

  Lily looked up at her. "Grammy, why do you call me Lilliana? My name's Lily."

  "Lily's your nickname," Gladys said. "Your real name is Lilliana. You were named after your great-grandmother."

  The child sat silent for a few moments, then said, "Mommy, Grammy said Lily isn't my real name?"

  "Yes it is, honey-bun. Grammy's right. Your given name is Lilliana Grace Ivey."

  "Grace?" the child repeated.

  Savannah nodded. "Yes. And Lily is your nickname. That's what most of your family and friends call you. Both are your real names."

  Lily finished coloring a blue heart, then asked, "What's your givey name, Mommy?"

  "My given name?" she corrected.

  Lily nodded.

  Savannah tickled her daughter's tummy and said, "Mommy."

  "No, Mommy," Lily insisted. "What's your—you know, big name?"

  "Savannah," she said. "I was named Savannah, but I have a nickname, too. Grammy, Auntie Maggie, and Auntie Bri call me Vannie, right? My nickname is Vannie."

  Lily thought for a moment before saying, "Daddy calls you hon."

  Savannah grinned briefly at her mother. "Yes he does. That's my pet name. Like we call you punkin and…"

  "Honey-bun?" Lily added.

  Savannah nodded. "Yes, those are pet names."

  Lily looked across the room at Lexie, who was sleeping in her bed and Buffy, who sat nearby watching them. "Pet names?" she questioned.

  Savannah chuckled. "Well, I guess you'd say more like names of endearment—names we use to show love and affection."

  "'Fection?" Lily repeated.

  "Yes." Savannah kissed her daughter's cheek. "A pet name, my little pet, is a way of saying I love you to pieces, and you're adorable and precious."

  "Oh," Lily said. She colored for a few more moments, then said, "At school, Bronson called Jacob stinky. Is that a pet name?"

  Gladys and Savannah both attempted to stifle a laugh. Gladys said, "No, that's a naughty name. We don't call people naughty names."

  "Like poo-poo head?" Lily said, giggling.

  Savannah looked wide-eyed at her daughter, then frowned. "Right. That is not a nice name, and we don't use names like that when we're talking to our friends or family or anyone."

  "Poo-poo head," Teddy said, giggling.

  Savannah gave him a stern look. "That's not nice, Teddy. We don't talk that way."

  The toddler grinned, an impish glint in his eye. "I say doo-doo?"

  Savannah shook her head. "No, Teddy. I don't want to hear those words coming out of that sweet little mouth."

  Gladys leaned toward the youngster. "Use words like sweet, nice, pretty, love…"

  "That's right," Savannah agreed. She looked into Teddy's face. "I love you. You're a sweet, sweet boy."

  "Love you, Mommy," he chirped.

  Savannah smiled and kissed him.

  Lexie lifted her head and barked softly. She stood up and stared at the side kitchen door.

  "What is it, Lexie?" Savannah asked, trying to see out the window. She stood up just as the door opened. "Oh, hi, Auntie."

  "Hi, everyone," Margaret greeted. "Looks like craft time. What are you making?"

  "A birthday card for Daddy," Lily said. She ran to her great-aunt with her card. "See, I put hearts on it and fish and…" she pointed, "…there's Lexie and Glori."

  "Well, that's really nice," Margaret said. "He's going to love it."

  Lily nodded. "And one for Uncle Keith. His birthday's the same day as Daddy's. We're going to have a party in our tent."

  Margaret thought for a moment, then said, "Oh, that's right, they're twins."

  "It'll be the first time they've ever spent their birthday together," Savannah said, "except for the day they were born."

  Margaret shook her head. "That's sad."

  "Want to see Daddy's card?" Lily asked, handing it to her.

  "I sure do," Margaret said, taking it. "You wrote in here too?"

  Lily nodded.

  "Can I read it?"
Margaret asked.

  "Yes." Lily grabbed the card from her and said, "I'll read it. "Daddy." She pointed. "See that's where I wrote Daddy." She continued, "Happy birthday. I love you, Lily." The child turned and asked, "Grammy, should I write…what's my big name?"

  "Lilliana," Gladys said, grinning. "Yes, you can add your big name to the card if you'd like." She offered. "Here, let me help you. I'll give you the letters."

  Savannah smiled at her child, then said, "What brings you out?" Before Margaret could respond, she invited, "Come sit with us. Want to make a card?"

  "Sure," Margaret said.

  "See my card?" Teddy squealed. "Auntie, see my card?"

  "Yes, it's pretty," Margaret said, hugging the boy. "And you wrote inside too, didn't you? What does it say?"

  He frowned and said quietly, "No poo-poo head. No stinky."

  Surprised, Margaret looked at the others. When they chose to remain quiet, she said to the toddler, "Well, that's nice. You don't want to use language like that, especially on your daddy's birthday card."

  He shook his head, a serious look on his face while the others stifled giggles.

  Margaret shimmied and hugged Teddy again. "They are so stinkin' cute."

  "Auntie!" Lily shouted.

  "No-no," Teddy said.

  "What did I say?" Margaret asked, covering her mouth.

  "S-T-I-N-K-I-N-G," Savannah spelled out. "The children don't know that it's okay for adults to use certain words colloquially."

  "Oh, my faux-pas," she said. "Sorry."

  "Fo-paw?" Lily questioned, scrunching up her face. "What's that?" Just then she screeched, "No! No, Rags. Stop it. That's Daddy's card!"

  Realizing what had happened, Savannah stood and picked up the cat, but Lily continued to squeal. "He has my card, Mommy. Make him give it back. He's going to break it."

  "Give me that," Savannah demanded, taking the card from Rags's mouth. He grabbed it with his claws, pulling off a paper fish.

  "He broke it, Mommy. No Rags!" Lily shouted.

  "It's okay, Savannah said in a calm voice." She removed the card from the cat's grip and lowered him to the floor. "Lily, we have plenty of glue and sparkles. I'll help you fix it." She scowled at her aunt. "You're a big help—sitting there laughing like that."